Page 167 of Lucky 14

Holli’s voice comes out quietly, “It doesn’t feel over. The game.”

I stand there, frozen.

“It feels like I’m living it again and again every day.” I feel her move her shoulders, and I squeeze her tighter. She pulls in a breath, and I feel like the worst person in the world.

Holli keeps talking. “But I’m trying to act like it doesn’t feel like that. Because the game is over.” She looks up at me with those stunning blue eyes, tightened with pain. Then, she moves to get out of my hold, and reluctantly, I let her.

“It’s over, Oakley.”

I swallow, my chest tight. What is she talking about? Is this a breakup talk? Not that we were ever together together, but… Suddenly, I feel nauseous, and I just want her back in my arms.

“The game is over, Oakley, but we’re still here.” She swallows. “So why don’t you pretend with me?”

I stare at her. Pretend with her? She looks both unsure and very sure at the same time. She raises her chin. “Pretend like it’s over until it feels like it.”

“I…” My gut twists. Pretend like it’s over. Like we’re over.

“You’re still playing the game, Oakley. You don’t have to save me anymore, including from my own feelings.”

“I’m not—” I start to protest, but she cuts me off.

“What you did won’t go away, and I’m not advocating we just forget it. But I…I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

Wait. She doesn’t think I’m a bad person?

“So let’s see where this new chapter brings us, huh?”

I stare at her, my mind turning slowly. New chapter? She’s not breaking up with me? She wants to see where the future brings us?

Holli turns to the bathroom, then turns back to me. “Oh, and Oakley?”

“Huh?” My mind is swirling with the new information, but with the confusion is also hope. Fucking hope, it always kicks my ass, and yet I can’t help but lean into the sparkle it brings.

“I’m starving. Could you maybe make us something to eat?” She gives me a small smile. It looks pained, but it’s still a smile.

Food? Yes, I can make food. “Of course.” The words come out choked. I clear my throat, “Yeah, I can make us something.”

That hope sparkles so bright it fills my chest. Maybe we can start over. I can’t promise I won’t hurt her, but it’ll never be on purpose. Visions of Holli, Kyan, Wyatt, and me sharing time together as a family fill my mind. Us waking up together in the mornings, sharing kisses and morning breath. Us cooking meals together, or rather, me cooking for them every Saturday morning. Sausage and waffles.

Wait. I break out of my reverie. I can do that now.

As soon as the idea hits me, I know it’s right.

I rush downstairs, looking in the fridge for what I might need. I find sausages in the freezer and flour and baking powder in the cabinet. Anxiety filled with something light fills my chest as I cook. I make pancake after pancake, getting the edges a perfect amount of crispy, and I fry up frozen sausage. I tell myself over and over again that I’m good enough. That I can be excited about Holli and Wyatt without making them my identity.

Fuck, I want to make them my identity. I want to blend myself into everything that they are, so they can’t tell the difference between them and me. Therefore, if they try to leave, it’ll be like leaving a piece of themselves behind.

Instead, I keep making food. I’m not sure if the others in the house will want some too, so I keep making them until I have a mountain of pancakes and sausage, complete with powdered juice mix.

“Smells good.”

I turn to see Ky striding into the kitchen carrying dirty laundry. I frown. The washer is in the mud room, not the kitchen.

Ky stands there, looking a bit lost, and when his eyes meet mine, they soften in a weird smile. No…not weird. Maternal? Immediately, I know this isn’t Ky.

For a second, I freak out. Who is this? I’ve met Huxley, Wyatt, and Ky, but no one else. Awkwardly, I shuffle my pan of sausage. What the hell am I supposed to do?

“Where’s the washer?”