AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His mouth is the only part of him that says yes.
I wonder if this is rock bottom; my child bailing me out in front of virtual strangers, in front of a man probably luxuriating in my embarrassment. I wonder what I did in a past life to deserve this. I wonder if I can make it out of the room without crying—doubtful but I’m determined.
It takes two seconds to snatch up my phone and keys, another to flash Luna a genuine smile. “Thank you for today.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” the love of my life echoes, directing a, “Thank you, sir,” at Jackson before turning back to me. “Ready?”
I nod my confirmation, curling a hand over his shoulder and letting him lead me from the room, keeping my head down on the way out because I’m barely keeping embarrassed tears at bay as it is. If I have to see the pity on anyone’s faces, or perhaps the pure glee lighting up Cass’, they’re bound to spill over.
As hard as I try, I don’t make it from the house scot-free. The burning sensation tickling the back of my neck makes me turn at the last moment, finding Cass as the culprit.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear the emotion flickering in his dark gaze was regret.
8
CASS
“I don’t knowwhat the fuck you’re doing, Luna, but you need to stop.”
A foot collides with my shin at the same time Mrs. Jackson-Evans pointedly jerks her head towards the giggling little kids seated at the other end of the table. Eyeing her warningly-poised cutlery, I scoff; as if they haven’t heard worse from her own hypocritical mouth.
But uninterested in getting a butter knife thrown at my head as I am—and knowing damn well she’s just taking every opportunity to bitch because she’s still pissed at me—I lower my voice to a dramatic whisper. “C’mon, Luna. Give me a break.”
Blue eyes blink innocently, as if their owner is capable of being that. “What was I supposed to do?”
What was I supposed to do?she says. Like her only option was inviting Sunday into her life, her home. Like she couldn’t just, you know,not.
“Befriend her,” I answer, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Obviously.”
An indignant noise leaves Luna. “She’s a single mom, she doesn’t know anyone, and you want me to ignore her?”
The man sitting beside me snickers. Covering the ears of the little boy on his lap, my brother-in-law drawls, “If we ignored everyone you’ve ever banged, we’d never speak to anyone.”
I blink at the man who once fucked his way through an entire sorority. “I’m sorry, did Nicolas Silva really just say that to me?Seriously?”
Unfazed, Nick grins lazily as he slips an arm around his wife’s shoulders, kissing her temple and gazing at her in that dopey, sickening way he always does. “I’m reformed.”
When Amelia moons back, I avert my gaze, stabbing at the cold mashed potatoes on my plate and spitting a lazy, half-hearted quip. “You’re boring.”
Knuckles that, once upon a time, liked to knock people out connect with my temple gently. “You should be sitting at the kiddie end of the table.”
I’m starting to wish I was. In fact, I wish there wasn’t a table at all, that I’d never invested in one big enough for everyone to fit around. It only encourages family dinners, and they might seem like a great idea but in practice? They never work in my favor. Tonight certainly isn’t.
There’s been no gratitude for my wonderful hosting. No marveling over the meal I painstakingly prepared, even after I spent the entire day wrangling future MLB legends. No, there’s only been chastising. Gossiping. Mockery. Even the little ones are working against me, Winnie waxing poetic about ‘Gus’ pretty mommy’ and Isaac never missing an opportunity to bring up his favorite teacher. The kid’s too smart, too perceptive, for his own good; I swear, every time he mentionsMs. Lane, he looks right at me with a damn glint in his eyes. Just like his mother, that boy.
“You know,” I try not to whine, “you guys could try being on my side for once.”
“This isn’t about sides.” Amelia leans around her husband and son to shake her head at me, red curls flying. “And if it was, you’re not exactly making it easy to be on yours.”
“For the record,” Oscar Jackson-Evans joins the party, slipping into the seat beside his wife and handing over a freshly changed baby, “I’m definitely Team Sunday.”
No, he’s Team Luna. Jackson is always Team Luna. Sunday could burn down his fucking house but if Luna still liked her, he would too.
“Me too.”
I slide Nick a scowl. “You’ve never met her.”
“Don’t have to.”
