“We made breakfast!”
Harrison’s face drains of color. “You did?”
I’m immediately dragged into the kitchen, Ollie clutching one hand, Snooki the other.
A blender sits in the middle of the counter, filled with something beige and lumpy. I spot cereal. Orange juice. Peanut butter. And what looks suspiciously like beef.
The smell is… bleh.
Harrison finds a smile and pats Connor’s shoulder. “Buddy,” he says carefully, “I admire the initiative.”
A phone buzzes. Harrison pulls it from his back pocket, and I hate how badly I want to know if it’s her. Or maybe it’s just another member of his ever-growing fan club.
“Emergency?” I ask, annoyed.
“Yeah. Sorry.” His gaze flicks to the blender, then back to the kids, and something settles in him. A decision. “Okay. Quick goodbyes. I have to get to work, and Princess Luna has to take off.”
“What?” I stare at him, alarmed. “Who’s going to watch the kids?”
“I texted my sister. Auntie Hannah’s on her way,” he says excitedly.
The kids all cheer like this is the best news they’ve heard all day. I smile, because that’s what you do when your heart is breaking a little, and everyone goes on with their day.
Harrison’s already moving down the hall. “I’ll grab your things.”
I guess I’m leaving now.
Leaving him is one thing. But I would’ve liked a little more time with the kids.
Apparently, the welcome mat had an expiration date.
I bend down and pull each of them into a hug, careful not to let the tears slip. “Don’t forget me,” I tease.
“Not on your life,” Connor says solemnly.
Ollie tugs a plastic pirate sword from his pajama pants. “Say the word, milady, and I will be at your disposal.”
I ruffle his hair. “I may take you up on that.”
I open my arms, and Snooki immediately pops into them. “Can we FaceTime?”
“I’d love that.”
CHAPTER 31
Ava
“Travis will take you to where you’ll be staying,” Harrison says, scrolling his phone with one hand, inhaling a Starbucks breakfast sandwich with the other.
Manhattan traffic crawls as I stare out the window and sip my cappuccino. “Is Travis kidnapping me? Because unless he is, I’m staying at The Barrington.”
Travis’s eyes flick to the rearview mirror. To me, then Harrison. Then straight back to the road, like he wants no part of this.
Before I can fire back, he adds, “Don’t make me call your brother.”
I scoff. “You’re calling my brother on me? What are you, eight?”
“No,” he says coolly. “I’m definitely the grown-up, Miss triple-shot oat milk cappuccino with one pump of vanilla, one pump brown sugar, extra dry, and dusted with cinnamon.”
