“She had a stomach ache,” Mom said, looking up. “She wanted to come home early.”
I stood in the kitchen wearing nothing but boxers, hair a mess, two glasses of water in my hands. My mother looked at me. Then down the hall toward my bedroom. Then back at me. Her eyes narrowed. Behind me, my bedroom door was open. And Catherine was in my bed.
CHAPTER 21
Hunter
“Dad?” Isla called from the front hall, sounding small and tired.
That snapped me out of whatever temporary death state my body had entered. I set the glasses down on the counter before I dropped them. “Hey, Bug.”
She stood beside my mother in leggings, sneakers, and a zoo sweatshirt, one hand pressed to her stomach. Her face was pale, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail, and that alone should have had my full attention. My mother, however, was staring at me like she had just found out I’d robbed a bank. Her eyes moved from my bare chest to my boxers. Then toward the hallway. Then back to me. Her mouth opened. I shook my head once. Hard. Do not.
Isla made a face. “My stomach hurts.”
The guilt hit immediately.
I crossed the kitchen fast and crouched in front of her. “How bad?”
“Not throwing-up bad. Just weird bad.”
“Grandma let me have ice cream, a pretzel, and lemonade,” Isla said.
Mom lifted a hand. “She was home from camp. We were celebrating.”
Isla leaned into me. “I need my bathroom.”
“Go ahead,” I said, brushing her hair back. “I’ll come check on you in a minute.”
She nodded and shuffled down the hall toward her room, which was right next to my bedroom. Where Catherine was gloriously naked in my bed. My heart stopped.
“Isla,” I said too loudly.
She froze and looked back. “What?”
“Use your bathroom.”
She frowned. “That’s what I said.”
“Right. Good.”
Her frown deepened because I sounded like an idiot. Then she went into her room and shut the door. The second the latch clicked, my mother crossed the kitchen like a woman heading into battle.
“Hunter Russell,” she whispered.
I closed my eyes. “Mom, keep your voice down.”
Her eyes widened. “There’s a woman in your room.”
“I’m aware.”
“You’re aware?” Her voice hit one octave too high.
“Yes, I’m very aware.” I was half a second away from panicking, but I couldn’t lose my shit. I needed to get back to Catherine, not explain myself to my mother.
“Your daughter is home,” Mom said.
“I did not know she was coming home early,” I whispered.
