Holly
Ifeel like I’m pulling petals off a metaphorical flower—he wants me,he doesn’t want anyone to know about it;he said it’s more than just a one-time thing, he especially doesn’t want Jane to know. There’s this weird push-pull of hope and fear inside me, and if this is being in love, then it’s horrible.
I mean. I’m not inlovewith Cole, obviously, it’s just…
Well, I don’t actually know what it is or what it means. If I did, I probably wouldn’t be doing this weird flower-in-my-head thing.
Heaving a sigh, I pull into my driveway.
When I open the door, I do a double take. Harry’s inside with Tina, looking much better than he did last night. Then again, when I first met him, he was passed out on my grandmother’s couch, so even hungover and conscious is an improvement.
I didn’t notice a car parked at the curb, but then again, it’s entirely possible a UFO could have landed in front of me, and I wouldn’t have noticed that either.
Rowan’s with them, and he gives me a withering look. “Nice of you to join us, Holly.” He nods slightly, the way you might if someone has a flake of red pepper lodged in their tooth or snot hanging out their nose.
“What is it,” I ask, stepping inside and closing the door behind me. “Do I have something on my face?”
Tina laughs a little, and even though I don’t know her well, I know her enough to assume her mind conjured up something dirty, a pretty compelling argument for getting to know her better.
“No,” Rowan says, his tone sulky. “It’s just…” He can’t seem to decide what “it’s just,” but then he nods to Harry and Tina. “They came to look at the spare rooms.”
“Yes, Rowan,” I say slowly, as if he were one of the eight-year-olds in my class. “I can see that. Did you show it to him?”
Harry nods, trying to look upbeat. “He did, yes,” he says. I’m not sure if he realizes he’s doing it, but he’s rubbing at a smudge spot on the wall. “It’s…spacious.”
“Well, like I said, if you move in, you canfeng shuithe shit out of it. Move furniture around, knock down walls, the works.”
“Really?” he asks in surprise. “Rowan says this is your childhood home. Aren’t you attached to keeping things the way they are?” He looks almost pained as he says it—as if he knows that doing so would be the worst possible thing for everyone involved, especially the house.
“Nope,” Rowan says.
“Bulldoze away,” I add. “We didn’t exactly have the kind of childhood you want to build a temple for.”
Harry gives a couple of nods, running a hand over his head. “I can understand that.”
“So, what do you think?” I say, gesturing to the room. It’s pretty crappy, to be honest, although I think Rowan actually did make a half-hearted attempted to clean up. I didn’t help him. I was too busy plotting.
“It’s a bit of a fixer upper,” he says, then lifts a hand to his lips as if he feared he said too much. “I mean. The location is really fabulous, and the rooms are large. They have floors. They—”
“You’re right,” I say, choking out a laugh as I put him out of his misery. “And we’re fixer uppers too.”
“Oh, thank God,” he says. “I was worried I’d offended you.”
“You’ll find we have very thick skins,” I say, although from the way Rowan is looking at me, I’m wondering if that’s true. What crawled up his ass and died? Is he trying to silently communicate to me that he doesn’t want Harry to move in? I can’t make that square, though. Harry is clean, respectful, and if Rowan truly wants to sabotage Nana’s show, what better way than having a primary source live with him?
To be honest, I have my doubts Rowan will go through with the whole sabotage scheme—he’s noble in his own way and not underhanded, even if he believes his cause is just. But I won’t try to dissuade him. It’s the kind of thing you should let your little brother learn for himself…unless he does something that’ll get him arrested. Mr. Herb, the sheriff, has an all-too-natural dislike of our family, which has everything to do with our mother’s attempts to make him husband number four, despite the fact that he’s at least twenty years too young for her, before she met the man who currently holds that title.
“I feel like I should warn you, Harry,” I start. My brother shoots daggers at me, but again, I don’t plan on ratting him out. “Our grandmother isn’t going to take it easy on you because you’re living with us. She takes pride in her inability to feel familial affection.”
The look of slight disappointment on his face says he’d been hoping otherwise.
“Do you guys want some tea?” I ask. Maybe it’s like putting a Band-Aid on a gusher, but it’s better than nothing, right?
“Should you ask her that?” Rowan asks, giving me a shifty look. I’m assuminghermeans Tina.
“Um. Yes. Why not? You like tea, don’t you, Tina? I mean, no judgment, but if you didn’t, your life would kind of be a lie.”
She laughs. Harry looks kind of nervous, like he’s worried he might be missing some subtext. Or maybe he’s just concerned this is alike grandmother, like granddaughtersituation, and I might slip something into his tea.
