“Need you to hold up your commitment and help me in the garage.”’
“Now?”
“Now,” is the firm answer, Hal’s voice just as menacing.“And this door had better be unlocked in the next ten seconds.”
I’m off the bed, taming my hair, nearly falling on the floor when I attempt to sit on the desk chair and it begins to roll away.
Jonathan is at the door, shirt still off.What the hell is he thinking?
He opens the door.“I’ll be down in a minute.”I study all the images on the desk, unable to meet Hal’s gaze.
“Keep the door open,” Hal demands, short and curt.He leaves us, his boots stomping down the stairs.
Jonathan slams the door.My heart about jumps out of my chest.I remain frozen on the seat.
When Jonathan faces me, his eyes are dark.I mean, darker than usual, and I didn’t think that was possible.I reach for my jacket and slowly rise.“I’m gonna go.”
“You don’t—”
“Yeah, I should.”I shove my arms into my sleeves, slipping past him toward the door.“I’ll… um… I’ll call… talk… to you later.”I motion toward the door.
“Sadie.”He’s pulling a shirt over his head, following me down the staircase.“Don’t.”
But I’m already outside.My feet carry me at a pace set by my pulse.This is that moment my dad warned me about.The uncomfortable feeling.It’s loud and scary.And I need to get away from this, whatever this is.
“Hey.”Jonathan catches up to me, gently tugging at my elbow.“You okay?”
“Uh, yep.I just… it’s best if I go.”I try to smile, but it’s so fake, I give up on it.What do I tell him?That I don’t want to be here for this?That the building tension between him and his father is scaring the crap out of me?
Does that make me a horrible friend?An even worse girlfriend?
Or does it make me smart for listening to my dad?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Idon’t look back when I walk to my car.And he doesn’t try to make me stay.He dropped his hand from my arm as soon as he saw my face.
I deliberately turn in my seat to reverse, not wanting to find Jonathan looking at me like I’m betraying him.Because the electric current in my stomach knows that’s exactly what I’m doing.
Running away.
As I begin to reverse, I spot the basket my mother made me promise to give to Samantha.The basket of towels and linens from her new collection that I complained was too embarrassing to give my boyfriend’s mother.I stop the car and stare at it.Can I leave it at the end of the driveway?
I can’t.
I put the car in park and brace myself.But when I open my door, Jonathan isn’t still there, looking at me like I stepped on his heart.He’s not anywhere.
I heft the monstrosity of a basket out of the back seat and walk toward the house.As I get closer, I hear raised voices coming from the garage.My steps slow.
The words are indistinguishable; the anger is not.So much anger.The hairs on the back of my neck prickle in warning when I take another step.
“Want me to take that?”
I jump and nearly drop the basket.
Ryan is in front of me.My attention was focused on the garage; I never saw him approaching.“I can bring that to my mom if you want?”
I nod and force a smile, handing it over.“Thanks.”A booming thud causes us both to turn toward the garage.
