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“For the last time, I didn’t know he was your dad when we started seeing each other,” I seethe, my head pounding. “But even if I did, your father’s a grown-ass adult, and so am I.”
“Yeah, well, I guess you won’t mind being a grown-ass adult who does her job.” She flicks her fingers toward her mom and sister, who are waiting in a booth a few yards away. “You should probably get to it.”
My teeth grind together, but I don’t move a muscle as I try to find the words to fix this. Words to make Summer and her youngest daughter go away. Words to remove the chip clearly on Hazel’s shoulder. Words to ease the haze in my vision and the tingling in my limbs.
Oh, shit. Not now.
I clench my hands and blink slowly, letting out a soft, slow breath in hopes of grounding myself.
“He chose you, ya know,” I whisper, ignoring the way my legs feel weak and how fast my heart is racing. “So, if you could…let me work in peace…that’d be…”
It’s coming. I can feel it.
Sometimes they hit out of nowhere. Other times, it builds. Mocking me. Torturing me. Prickling beneath my skin. Like a weird, agonizing sixth sense.
I need to sit down.
My palm slaps against the hostess table as I try to steady myself, preparing for the inevitable when everything goes black.
45
MACKLIN
After Kate walked away from me at the arena last night, I'd confirmed with Theo that she’d caught a ride home with him and Blake, and I drove to my house––alone.
After sending my nightly text to Miley and Hazel, I turned off my cell and climbed into bed. I slept like shit. I’m not surprised. My sheets smell like her, and it’s messing with my head.
I take another whiff of the pillow, Kate’s scent clinging to it. Turning onto my back, I stare up at the wood beams strewn across my ceiling.
I should’ve slept on the couch. Maybe I would’ve been able to get my head out of my ass for two minutes, though I doubt it.
After a hot shower, I tug on some clothes, shove my phone into my back pocket, and head to the kitchen in search of coffee. I pause when a little orange bottle sitting on the counter grabs my attention.
Kate’s medicine.
She must’ve left it yesterday morning since we’d been planning on her staying the night after the game. This means she didn’t take it before bed or this morning. Unless she has some more stashed at her house. It’s possible. My molars grind together, the little orange bottle taunting me for another thirty seconds. I pull out my phone and turn it back on. Like always, Miley’s response is scrawled across the screen, wishing me goodnight. Only this time, there’s a second message.
From Hazel.
Hazel
Goodnight, Dad.
I close my eyes, unable to appreciate the momentous text. Because it’s corrupted. Ruined by her selfishness.
I screwed up last night. Kate was right. I shouldn’t have had to choose. It was an impossible situation Hazel assumed she could put me in without repercussions. I shouldn’t have given her so much power. Not because I don’t love her, but rather because I do.
The plastic is slightly cool against my palm as I grab the bottle from the counter and dial Kate’s number. The call goes straight to voicemail. Checking the time, I try again. When it immediately goes to voicemail again, I pull up Blake’s contact info.
She answers on the first ring. “Hey, Jerkface.”
“Hey.”
“I shouldn’t be talking to you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re a jerkface,” she tells me. “Don’t get me wrong. I still love you and all since you’re going to be my brother-in-law at some point, but––”
