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I nod, but my mind is a cacophony of noise again.Move on. It just takes time.If I never hear those two sayings again it will be too soon.
When I leave the bathroom after washing my hands, I hear hushed voices coming from inside. But it’s the mention of Conrad’s name that has me sneaking along the hall to listen in on what Ellie was saying.
“I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have just rocked up here unannounced. I shouldn’t have come. Things were just really bad at home with Dad and Granddad ragging on Conrad. They were laying it on thick and I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m only making your family uncomfortable. I should go.”
“Hey,don’t say that. You’re my girlfriend. You don’t need permission to be here.I’mglad you’re here,” Harley assures her. “And Tom’s fine with it. He knows you’re not responsible for what happened to him.”
Their conversation only solidifies my decision to stay away from Conrad. He’s the common denominator here, and I’m the worst friend for even talking to the guy, let alone fucking him.
“But your dad–”
“Dad will come around. He hasn’t had time to process it, is all. Him being here is actually a bit of a shock for everyone. There’s a lot going on. I want you to stay.”
Ellie sniffs, and I feel a twinge of guilt. She’s just a bystander in her brother’s bullshit. I’m about to sneak back outside to join everyone else when I hear something that makes me pause.
“It wasn’t Conrad who dobbed Tom into the police, it was–”
The back door slides open, and Harley’s dad calls out. “Harley, son? Where’d you disappear to?” His footsteps come closer, and I sneak back into the bathroom, closing the door softly.
I’m dying to know what Ellie was about to tell Harley. Why didn’t Conrad deny it when I brought it up? And if it wasn’t him, then who was it?
“Dad! That’s enough!” Harley’s raised voice has me opening the bathroom door and rushing into the living room.
Sam Breed has his hands crossed over his chest and he’s scowling at Ellie, who’s standing under Harley’s arm and shrinking into his side. “With all due respect, you can’t come back here after two years and start telling me who I can and can’t date.”
“She doesn’t belong here, son. Not after what her brother did to us.”
I open my mouth, but I’m interrupted by a voice behind me. “Harley, take Ellie back to the yard,” Tom says through gritted teeth. “Dad and I need to have a little talk.”
Harley looks warily between the two men. “Shouldn’t I–”
“Now, Harley.”
I catch Harley’s eye and silently indicate for them to follow me. For a moment, I think he’s going to argue, but he only sighs and pulls Ellie along with us.
“I–I’m sorry,” Ellie whispers. “I should…”
“It’s not your fault,” Harley tells her. “It looks like this has been brewing for a while. Tom never went to visit Dad in prison, and I never questioned why. I thought it was because he’d just gotten out of the place himself, but now I think there are some things I don’t know about.”
“Do you want us to go?” I ask.
Harley shakes his head. “Nah. It’s Christmas. Christmas is about family, and you guys are my family.”
Everyone else in the backyard is none the wiser to what is going down inside, and the three of us try to pretend like nothing happened. Harley doesn’t let go of Ellie’s hand as he engages in conversation with Jordan and Brady, but she just sits there, quiet as a mouse, her eyes darting back towards the back door.
Wren passes me a bowl filled with my favourite Christmas dessert–pavlova topped with berries–but my appetite is gone. Merry fucking Christmas.
* * *
I STARE AT my tired eyes in Wren’s bathroom mirror before splashing my face with cold water. I’m still barely sleeping, but now it’s less because of Lachy and more to do with a certain bright eyed football player. More than once, I’ve woken sweaty, horny, and frustrated. My vibrator has had an epic work out this week.
Wren gushes as she grabs her toothbrush. “That dress looks freaking hot on you! The guys are going to be lining up.”
I pull a face as I fiddle with the top of the strapless dress I’ve borrowed from her wardrobe. I’m not in the mood to go to Robbo’s New Year’s Eve party, but Wren and Brady aren’t having a bar of it.
“Just what I want to hear,” Brady says sarcastically, slapping Wren’s butt as she bends over the sink to rinse her mouth.
“Don’t worry, B,” I reassure my brother as I lean forward to apply my concealer. “You have nothing to worry about. My vibrator and I are having plenty of fun on my own.”
