“You never said how this happened.” I shift from one foot to the other as I bite my lip, wishing I hadn’t opened my big mouth.
He doesn’t bother to meet my gaze. “Nope, I didn’t.”
The finality of his words rubs me the wrong way. As irritation floods through my system, desire dissipates. Not only is there a physical distance between us, but an emotional one as well. And that’s exactly the way it needs to stay.
I fold my arms across my chest and glare. “So, you’re not going to tell me?” I pause for a beat. “What did you do? Hit on someone’s girlfriend?”
He lifts his head and opens his uncovered eye, focusing intently on me. “Nailed it. That’s exactly what happened.”
There’s a deadened look in his gray gaze.
One that sends shivers down my spine.
Needing to keep him at arm’s length, I sigh and head back to my bedroom.
13
DAISY
It’s been a tradition since first semester of freshman year that Aunt Marnie hosts family dinners twice a month. There are times when we’re able to get together more than that. And there are others when we’re lucky to get together once a month. Football season is always a challenge because Noah’s schedule is packed tight with practices, film review, study sessions, and games. We never go longer than that without carving out some time.
And I love that.
Love that I’m a part of their close-knit family.
Being that Carter has been Noah’s roommate for just as long, he’s been invited from the beginning. My aunt and uncle took an instant liking to Carter, bringing him into the fold and treating him like family.
It used to aggravate the hell out of me. Now, I’m not sure how I feel. Our relationship has changed over the last two weeks. We’re no longer at each other’s throats.
Just as Noah, Carter, and I walk through the front door of the house, my cell vibrates. I pull it from my purse only to see that it’s a text from my aunt. Instead of opening the message, I pocket the phone. Now that I’m here, I can speak with her in person.
The laughing, chattering voice doesn’t penetrate my mental fog until I’ve entered the kitchen and it’s too late. My gaze lands on her and I stumble to a halt, trying to make sense of the woman sitting in Aunt Marnie’s house.
What the?—
“Baby girl!” Mom shrieks as if I’m hard of hearing and we haven’t seen one another in years. She flies from her chair, rushing forward and swallowing me up in her arms. I nearly suffocate on the heavy cloud of Chanel perfume she’s cloaked in. Subtlety has never been my mother’s strong suit.
Still in a state of shock, I stare at my aunt over Mom’s shoulder in bewilderment. I’m desperate for her to tell me that this is a bad dream. The sympathetic expression painted across her face says that it’s not. Only now do I realize that the text she’d recently fired off was a warning to prepare myself.
With her hands on my shoulders, Mom leans back so she can look me over. A delighted grin stretches across her Botox injected face. “Are you surprised?”
Surprised?
Surprised is an understatement.
“Shocked.” Like I’ve just been punched in the face for no reason. I love my mother, I really do, but she’s a lot to deal with. To say that she’s high maintenance is putting it mildly. I need to mentally prepare whenever I’m going to be around her for any length of time. If I don’t, our visits end up going sideways and that’s not fun for either of us.
She claps her hands together like a child on Christmas morning. “Oh good! You know how much I enjoy a good surprise.”
“Mission accomplished,” I say wryly, still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that she’s standing in Aunt Marnie’s kitchen. She belongs in Europe. Not here. It’s like stumbling upon an exotic animal on a city street. Unexpected and not entirely welcome.
Oblivious to my inner turmoil, she loops her arm through mine and drags me to the table to sit down. Her hands immediately go to my face as she takes a long hard look at me. Her expression transforms into one of seriousness.
“Oh, my poor baby,” she coos dramatically.
I’m tempted to roll my eyes, but don’t. I know what’s coming next. Mom tends to keep to the script, which makes it easier for all of us to play our parts.
She turns my face from one side to the other, studying my complexion with a critical eye. “You look tired, Daisy. Are you getting enough rest?”
