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“Yes, it was from him,” I replied, and she smiled.
“You have so many books in here. I can’t believe you like reading,” Molly interrupted.
“It’s fun. You might like it too if you gave it a chance.”
“I do it when I have to.”
We stayed there as long as possible. Mom got to explore every corner of the room before we decided to head out.
My arm brushed against Harrison’s as we went out the door, and…I missed him. How could I miss him when he was right there? I was so used to touching him whenever I wanted, and now I couldn’t.
We went back to the house. Mom was hurting, so she took a pain pill and a nap. Molly, Harrison, and I played board games that Harrison had dug out. When Mom woke up, we refused to let her help make dinner. She and Molly sat at the bar, talking to Harrison and me as we made chicken and fried rice.
He was so open, talking to her about his childhood, and his partying parents, and being left alone. He told her about foster care and having Ross, and I could tell she thought like me, that maybe Harrison McCoy was the greatest man alive.
Mom told him about her injury and the doctors who’d rushed her out the door, about the surgery that scared her and that she likely couldn’t afford anyway. How the other driver’s insurance gave her the runaround and stopped paying.
“Did you ever consider a lawsuit? Against the insurance company?” he asked.
“No, I couldn’t afford that, and I doubt we’d win anyway.”
“My friend George is an attorney. He doesn’t handle that kind of law, but I can definitely pick his brain about it. He might be able to help steer us in the right direction.”
Mom stared at him for a moment as if she didn’t know how to think about him, as if maybe he wasn’t real. Me too, Mama. Me too. But then she shook her head and said, “I couldn’t ask that.”
“You didn’t, but the offer is there. Always, no matter when.”
I knew what he meant—no matter what happened with us. When whatever this was between us ended, he would help my mom if he could. I hated taking things for myself, but I would do anything to help her. I watched him, studied him as he talked to her with such care, but not in a condescending way. As they laughed and told each other stories.
He looked at me and winked, and it hit me then, this force that slammed into my chest and stole my breath.
I was in love with him. I was in love with Harrison.
How could I have let this happen? He might like me now, might enjoy spending time with me and fucking me, but at some point, he’d get tired of it. At some point, he’d leave. In my experience, they always left, and…oh God, it would break me. It would shatter my heart to lose him. And I would. Why would he stay with someone like me? Someone whose own dad couldn’t be bothered to do it.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, cupping my face.
My gaze darted to Mom, and I jerked away. “Yeah, fine. Just…not feeling great, is all. It’s fine. Everything is fine.”
But it wasn’t. Not at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Harrison
Thanksgiving morning, the house was quiet when I got up. It had been strange trying to sleep in the same house as Zander without having him in bed with me. I’d gotten used to how he sometimes pulled away when I tried to hold him, only to plaster himself on me in his sleep. The way he sometimes flailed, his long legs over me or kicking me, like his body couldn’t find peace, and then it would, in my arms.
It was fucked up because it wasn’t as if we slept together every night—he still stayed at the condo—but I’d known he was close, which meant I’d wanted him with me.
I really needed to get my shit together and stop acting like a lovesick child.
I got the coffee going before walking over to the window to look out. Ross, Trina, Warren, and George would be here in a few hours, the kitchen overrun with too many people and too many hands, which just made it even better.
I’d warned everyone ahead of time that there were to be no jokes about Zander and me doing this thing we were doing, whatever it was. That his family thought we were only friends, and Zander wanted to keep it that way. Both Warren and Ross had looked at me with eyes filled with pity, which didn’t feel all that good. They felt sorry for me, and that sucked because it maybe meant they thought I had no chance with Zander, which was fucking devastating.
I didn’t see her at first, but then I noticed Ashley on the porch swing out back. It looked chilly out, and while she had on a sweatshirt, I could see her trembling. I put my slippers on and grabbed a blanket before going out. “You look like you could use this,” I said as I approached. Her eyes were ringed red as if she’d been crying.
