And that’s when I know I’ve got her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Hailey
I should just lie.I should say yes, I’m going to go live with my parents. But honestly, the thought of moving back into that house feels like willingly deciding to suffocate.
Since I can’t bring myself to lie, I choose not to answer, merely sighing instead of saying anything.
I don’t have to, though. Jason knows.
“So, that’s not a real option.”
“It’s better than being homeless,” I mutter. That’s what I tell myself, at least. And it’s true. I know it. But living with my parents again would still be terrible.
And I’m confident they’d make me come work for them, doing grunt work for Mom’s accounting business, which would cut into my teaching and practicing time dramatically. I’d probably have to give up my studio space in town, too. Because how would I get from Poynette to Sun Prairie several times a week to teach?
They’d let me use their car to get to rehearsal. Since it’s a paying orchestra, even if it doesn’t pay a lot, and rehearsalswouldn’t interfere with normal work hours, they’d let me keep that. Music is a nice hobby, after all. That’s what they’ve always told me.
And they’re not wrong.
It’s just … it was supposed to be my career. My life. My ticket out.
And instead, I’m stuck here. The only way out is through Jason.
“I thought we were going to talk about something else,” I say, not wanting to dwell on the shitshow my life has become.
He smiles. “You’re right. You asked for time. I said you could have as much as you need, and I meant it. What would you like to talk about?”
I consider that for a long moment, chewing another bite of dinner. “Tell me stories about Hunter,” I ask at last. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to talk about him with anyone.” Spending time with Jason has brought back memories I’d nearly forgotten. And it’s awakened a hunger in me for more. To reconnect with the brother that I lost. I know I can’t do it with my parents. But with Jason, I think I can.
His fork screeches against his plate as he startles at my question, but he recovers quickly, setting down his fork and reaching for his glass of water. “Uh … what do you want to know?”
“Anything. Everything. Do you remember when you met?”
A smile spreads across his face. “It was the first day of Kindergarten.” His focus goes a little soft as he remembers. “The teacher sat us next to each other. I didn’t want my mom to leave, and I was really sad when she gave me a hug and said goodbye. Hunter immediately asked me to build something with him—the teacher had set out those magnetic tiles on our table—and after that, we were best friends.”
I have to blink away the moisture that immediately springs to my eyes. I asked for the story. I don’t want me getting weepy to put him off sharing more. “That’s”—I pause to clear my throat—“I hadn’t heard that story before.”
He shrugs. “You were just a baby, then. No reason you would’ve. It’s not much as far as stories go.”
“Still, though.” I shake my head. “That’s Hunter. He was always like that, looking out for his friends and teammates. Me too, though it wasn’t quite the same since I was the annoying little sister.”
Jason’s smile is soft. “He loved you, though. Yeah, sure, he got annoyed when you were constantly trying to join in on whatever we were doing. But could you blame him? When you were eight, we were already teenagers. He played with you a ton, but it was never enough for you. So sometimes he got annoyed when you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Wrinkling my nose, I shake my head again. “I guess I never really thought about it from his perspective. He did play with me a lot, didn’t he?” Flashes of tea parties and board games and puzzles and video games over the years flip through my mind as I think back. “He was a good big brother. The best.” The last words come out as little more than a whisper. Clearing my throat, I look up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly to keep my tears from falling.
“He was,” Jason confirms. “He wanted me to fill that role since he wouldn’t be around anymore. I’m sorry that I failed you so badly.”
“God, Jason.” I let out a choked laugh, meeting his eyes. “You have to quit beating yourself up. Youaren’tmy big brother. And while you might’ve spent a ton of time at my house when we were kids, it’s unreasonable for anyone to expect you to basically become Hunter. Including you.”
“Still, though …” he starts, and when I shake my head, he presses his lips closed.
It’s a good thing he’s not my brother. And I’ve never really thought of him as a brother. He’s Jason. Hunter’s friend, who started making my insides feel a little squirmy when I was a preteen. I always loved it when he paid attention to me. And when I got old enough to recognize it as a crush, I also knew it wouldn’t come to anything. Even now, he’s doing his best to look out for me. But he doesn’t see me as a woman. As an independent adult. As someone he’d want to marry for real. “Besides,” I continue, “if youweremy brother, your whole proposal wouldn’t work at all.”
That makes him laugh, which successfully dispels the heaviness that’s settled over us. “True.”
Cocking my head to the side, I study him through narrowed eyes. “What do you think Hunter would have to say about that?”
