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Scrubbing a hand over my face, I look behind me again.
“I don’t get how those two like you both enough to fly home for an emergency family thing and fly all the way back in two days, when they live all the way on the other side of the country,” Krysta points out with all seriousness, eyeing me in particular. “Surely Piper has seen the real you by now.”
My eyes narrow.
Ma dabs her eyes with a napkin, sniffling, and I lose interest in Krysta long enough to roll my eyes.
“I’m never gonna get babies,” Ma says through another sniffle.
“You were never going to get them from her, Ma. I told you that from the beginning. You’re mourning something that was never going to happen. She’s got a life somewhere else,” I grumble, annoyed that I check over my shoulder again.
One time. I had her under me one damn time, and I immediately knew it’d be a bad idea to do that again. I talked a big game, but I enjoyed it too much to put myself through that again.
It’s all I can do to keep the physical contact chaste now by wearing her out with tons of physical activity. Every single time I touch her, all I want to do is carry her off and keep her to myself.
I really thought it wouldn’t be that big of a deal to have a casual fling with a fancy girl, who clearly doesn’t belong in Tomahawk or on my side of the lake. There’s no way she can belong here.
She’s not like Liam or Benson or any of the other outsiders. They were sick of their lives. They were desperate for something new.
She has family and a life that she’s planning to return to.
“The two of you have your guards so high that neither of you see what beautiful babies you’re robbing the world of,” Ma prattles on.
Pocketing my hands in my coat, I glance around once again. Even though my sister is in the finals of the axe-throwing showdown against Killian, my head can’t seem to get out of the fog. It’s the rematch we’ve all waited to see all year, but Hale and I are both spending more time looking behind us than in front of us.
“Did you ever find out what the emergency was?” I ask him.
“Something business related. Reese is deep in the family business,” he answers absently.
“Why did Piper have to go too? She’s not all that involved in this vaguely described family business of theirs,” I gripe.
“The business is currently just the platform for their dad’s political campaign and stuff. They had to make some sort of public appearance as a family somewhere or something. It sounded like some sort of scandal cover up.”
He gets way more details than I do. I guess that’s what happens when you don’t spend all your time exhausting your girl so you can avoid getting another taste of what life could be like, just in time to have to give it up and watch her go.
Groaning, I slouch in my chair, watching as my sister hurdles her axe for a direct hit in the center of the wooden target.
Cheers ring out, because more people are pulling for Nila than Killian. Killian smirks as he readies his own axe, but I look behind me again instead of watching his throw.
“What’s that look?” Ma asks me, grabbing my chin and thoroughly examining my face.
Arching an eyebrow, I mutter, “Utter fucking confusion.”
She nods as she releases my chin. “I don’t miss those days. These days I know exactly what I’m looking for. When you’re young, it’s all confusing, and you don’t realize what you even want.”
When I glance back this time, a pressure lifts from my chest, and the knots in my stomach unfurl. I didn’t even realize how much it was worrying me that she wouldn’t come back until this second.
I spot her bundled up in a lot of pale blues, as she and her sister shuffle their feet through the snow, hurrying toward us.
I slap Hale on the arm, and he practically leaps straight up and takes off running toward them. He has Reese in his arms and swinging her around before I can even get halfway there.
Piper smiles at me as she blows heat into her gloved hands, her matching pale blue knitted thing coming down almost to her eyes.
I start to worry about them when they both seem to stagger…
Why do their eyes look so glossy?
“Sorry. We had a flat and there wasn’t any signal to ask Google how to change it or to contact roadside assistance,” Piper tells me, making very little sense. “And when we couldn’t change it, we were left with the dangerous task of flagging someone down. Fortunately, we caught a ride with Tate and Porter Nickels. Unfortunately, they made us drink some moonshine and sing karaoke as payment.”
