“Love the name-calling.Real mature,” I quip.
This time, she flips me off.
Amused, I ask, “So, did you have fun last night?”I almost forgot it was her first Harden event.From a clinical perspective, it would be good to get her thoughts on everything.What she liked.What she didn’t.If we have any hope of capitalizing on our strengths, she’s a solid resource, even if we did keep her sidelined for the majority of it.
“Did I have fun last night?”she asks, repeating my question.
“Yeah.”
She pauses, studying me and sizing me up all at once.The expression is so familiar and barely takes a millisecond for me to place.Maybe she’s notallmom after all.Because that look?That look is all Harden.Scooping up another bite of ice cream, she steals a taste and finally answers, “Maybe.”
“Just maybe?”
Her lips purse.“Okay, it was pretty epic.”I fight the urge to pat myself on the back as my mouth spreads into a grin.“Is every night like that?”she asks.
“Like what?”
She smiles.“Epic.”
“Depends,” I answer, while resisting the urge to puff out my chest and strut around like a damn peacock.Why yes, last night was pretty fucking epic, now wasn’t it?
“Some are more low-key, but we want to hold more like the one from last night,” I tell her.
“Smart.”Cobie finishes the ice cream on her spoon.“What was the haul?”
I pull back, surprised.“You want to know how much money we made?”
Her gaze flicks to mine.“Is that surprising?”
“A little, yeah.”
Scooping another bite of ice cream into her mouth, she watches me closely.“You know, that’s not an answer.”
Why is she pushing this?And why do I care?“We made enough,” I reply.
“Not going to tell me?”
“Depends.Are you going to run back to Daddy Dearest and tell him?”
Something sparks in her eyes, though I can’t place what it is.Hurt, maybe?“You really think I’d spy on you guys for Dad?”
The old Cobie wouldn’t have.She was our ride or die.But the old Cobie learned the hard way what it meant to cross our father.Now that she’s back, and now that he has something to hold over her head, does it change anything?Has it enticed her to switch sides?I’m not sure, and I hate that I don’t know, but I also refuse to lie to my own flesh and blood, even if it means enduring an uncomfortable conversation or two.“You want the truth?”
She nods.
“I haven’t decided what I think yet.”
With a gasp, she swats at my arm.“Don’t be a dick.”
“Okay, okay,” I concede.“You want therealtruth, Cobes?”
Sobering, her head bobs.
“No, I don’t think you’re spying on us.”
“You sure?”The vulnerability in her tone reminds me of when we were younger, and she’d sneak into my room in the middle of the night after a bad dream.It made me feel like a king.Like I was capable of protecting someone instead of needing protection for once in my life.I didn’t know until we were older that she’d do it with all my brothers.Yeah, when I found that shit out, it stung a bit, but I refuse to believe I’m not her favorite even after all this time.
“If I thought you were spying for Daddy Dearest, I wouldn’t have let you come last night,” I explain.
