Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Audrey
The persistent buzzing on the nightstand wakes me up. I groan, fumbling blindly for my phone with one hand while the other attempts to shield my eyes from the light.
“Can’t a girl get some peace and quiet around here?” I grumble, my voice thick with sleep. “Would it kill them to let me nap for a little longer?”
I let out another groan, burying my face in the pillow. Whoever decided that a phone should buzz like an angry bee at the crack of dawn must’ve hated humanity.
“Alright, alright, I’m up,” I mumble to the stupid device as if it can hear my protest. “Who is calling?”
My fingers finally grasp the torture device, and I bring it close to my face, squinting against the brightness. The screen is a flurry of notifications, little text bubbles clustered like balloons at some kind of celebration. Except this doesn’t look like a party, but a family interrogation, and apparently, I’m the guest of honor.
I start reading them, my brow furrowing deeper with each message. What the everloving fuck? Did someone seriously tell my mother that I’m engaged?
“Liam Cohen, you’re a dead man,” I mutter under my breath after every message I read.
Why didn’t she mention it when she arrived?
Are you sure it’s Liam Cohen?
Yes, Susie just told me.
Where is Audrey?
I saw her leaving with Liam .
I swipe through the messages, each one filled with more exclamation points and question marks than the last. Aunt Linda’s text screams in all caps, while cousin Jamie’s string of emojis is barely understandable . . . Why did he add a pregnant woman emoji?
“I’m not pregnant.” I screech, bolting upright in bed. My heart is pounding, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. This can’t be happening. This wasn’t part of the plan.
Then there’s another text. “Grandma Cohen is doing what?” I mutter, thumb flicking over the screen as if speed-reading could somehow make sense of this big mess. My eyes widen with each new revelation, my jaw dropping in disbelief.
Text after text, emoji parade after gif fiesta—it’s like my family’s group chat has turned into Times Square on New Year’s Eve. And smack in the middle of it all, there’s me, well, and Liam too.
Didn’t I tell Liam this was a bad idea? Or to fucking wait until I knew how to handle it?
But now it seems like the family even wants an engagement party. I scoff, tossing the word around my mouth like a piece of gum gone stale.
“Has everyone gone insane?” I throw my hands up in exasperation, my voice echoing in the empty room.
That’s when the door bursts open with the subtlety of a wrecking ball. Maximilian stands there, all six-foot-two of brotherly disregard for privacy, his eyes wide and his chest heaving as if he’s just run a marathon.
“Ever heard of knocking, Max?” I grumble, narrowing my eyes at him. I cross my arms over my chest, a defensive posture that does little to hide my annoyance.
“Not the time. I’m here to save you.” He strides into the room, his movements urgent and purposeful.
“I’m pretty sure I don’t need saving. Leave me alone.”
“Are you even listening to me? Audrey Elizabeth McCallister, I’m here to save you from our meddling family.” He claps his hands like a coach rallying the troops, the sound sharp and jarring in the quiet of the room. “No time for chitchat. We’ve got a Code Red situation.”
“Code Red? Is that above or below your ‘end of the world’ smoothie disaster?” I grumble.
“There’s no time for nonsense.” He throws a hoodie at me. “Put that on, grab your purse, and step into a pair of shoes. We’re going to try to leave the place without anyone noticing you.”
I catch the hoodie, my reflexes still sluggish from sleep. I raise an eyebrow at him, my lips twisting into a wry smile. “Because it’s so easy to get past all that extended family scattered around, and our mother.”
“Just do as I say.”
Once I do what he instructed, I let him pull me along, his grip firm and insistent on my arm. My feet stumble across the worn carpet, still half-stuck in dreamland and wholly unprepared for whatever disaster awaits.
Max leads me down the hallway, his strides long and hurried. I have to jog to keep up with him. What is it with men and always walking like something is chasing them? “Max, slow down. What’s going on?”
He doesn’t answer and just tugs me down the hallway with the kind of grim determination usually reserved for action heroes or people who run marathons for fun. We pass by framed photos of us as kids, memories of a simpler time before we come to a stop outside his childhood room—the place where he and his friends planned most of their infamous pranks.
I yawn, stretching my arms above my head. “Whatever this is, it better be good,” I warn, rubbing at the sleep still clinging to my eyelids. But the playful tone falls flat against the gravity in Max’s steps, the tension radiating off him in waves.
“Trust me, you’re gonna want to sit down for this one.” His hand rests on the doorknob. I can see the muscles in his jaw working. It’s like he’s in the middle of a mission, and I’m in serious need of rescue. “No, actually. You’ll be begging me to save you from this one.”
Max’s grip on the doorknob tightens, his knuckles blanching a shade paler than the walls. Before I can protest, he thrusts the door open, and we spill into his room. The space is cramped with trophies, posters, and other junk he’s never going to take to his place. It’s a time capsule of his childhood. Everything, including the mess is still here.
“We’re heading outside through the window,” he says, his voice low and urgent. He strides over, pushing it open with a grunt.
I balk, my eyes widening in disbelief. “I’m not jumping out of there. I prefer to use the door—like a normal person.”
“This is your only way out,” Max insists, turning to face me. His expression is deadly serious, his brow furrowed in determination. “Mom is not happy with you—you got engaged without her blessing. And where are the fucking pictures?”
“What pictures?” I ask a little miffed about the last question.
“Your engagement pictures. She’s asking for them,” he sounds demanding.
“There’s no way she’s?—”
“But she is,” he interrupts me .
I groan, burying my face in my hands. Of course. Of course, my mother would be more concerned about the lack of photographic evidence than the fact that I’m apparently engaged to a man I’ve barely spoken to in years. Not that they know that. What do they know?
“This was a bad idea,” I mumble.
“Ya think,” Max says exasperated.
“Max, I can’t just run away from this,” I say, my voice muffled by my fingers. “I have to face it head-on, explain what’s really going on.”
He snorts, shaking his head. “And how do you think that’s going to go over? ‘Hey, Mom, sorry for the confusion, but Liam and I are just pretending to be engaged to make his sick grandmother happy.’ Yeah, that’ll go over really well.”
I wince, knowing he’s right. There’s no easy way out of this, no simple solution that won’t leave someone hurt or disappointed.
I hate that he’s right, but . . . “I don’t know how I’m going to handle it. They weren’t supposed to know until I figured all this out.” My hands are shaking, my palms sweaty as I pace back and forth in the cramped space of Max’s room. I can feel my heart racing, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. This is a disaster, a full-blown catastrophe that I have no idea how to fix.
“See, that’s why you need to jump,” he says, his voice calm and steady. He gestures to the window, his expression serious.
When I approach the window, Liam is waiting for me on the other side. I can’t help but stare, my eyes roaming over his tall frame, taking in the way his t-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, the way his jeans hug his lean hips.
He looks like something out of a magazine, all tousled hair and chiseled jawline. For a moment, I forget how to breathe, my mouth going dry at the sight of him.
But then I catch Max’s eye, see the way he’s watching me with a knowing smirk, and I snap out of it. I clear my throat, trying to regain my composure. “This is crazy.”
“Not as crazy as accepting to marry him,” Max mutters, his voice low enough that only I can hear.
I shoot him a glare, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It’s not real.”
“Tell that to Mom,” he says, his tone dry and sarcastic.
“Ugh . . .” I groan, burying my face in my hands.
This is a nightmare, a disaster of epic proportions. But I know I can’t hide in Max’s room forever. It’s impossible to avoid the consequences of our little charade. Liam and I need a solution before they can overwhelm us .
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s to come. Then, with a final glance at Max, I climb out the window, my movements clumsy and ungraceful.
Liam is there to catch me, his hands warm and steady on my waist as he helps me down from the tree. For a moment, we’re pressed together, his body solid and comforting against mine. I can feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the way his heart beats steady and strong in his chest.
I look up at him, my breath catching in my throat. His eyes are dark, intense as they search mine, and for a moment, I swear he’s going to kiss me. And the crazy part is that I’m ready for it—for him. My lips part, my tongue darting out to wet them, and I see his gaze flicker down to my mouth.
Do I want him to kiss me? The thought is sudden, unbidden, and it sends a jolt of need through my veins. I can’t deny the attraction between us, the way my body responds to his touch.
But then reality comes crashing back as my brother says, “Move so I can join you.” Reminding me that he’s here and I shouldn’t be looking at his friend like he’s a lollipop I want to lick all over. I take a step back, putting some distance between Liam and me.
Liam shakes his head. “Just jump, asshole.” His hand reaches out to pull me back to him. His touch is warm, electric, and I have to resist the urge to lean into it. “Come on, we have to move. Ethan is waiting for us with the getaway car.”
I frown, my brow furrowing in confusion. “This seems like a lot for just getting out of the house,” I say, my tone skeptical.
“Yeah, but there’s a lot involved and we need engagement pictures and a plan,” Liam says, his voice low and urgent. He glances around, as if checking for any prying eyes or listening ears.
“And how are we getting those pictures? I’m sure it’s a lot different than getting a fake ID to buy some beer.”
Liam chuckles, shaking his head.
“Lily, Ethan’s fiancée, is going to help us with the photographic evidence. In the meantime, we’ll come up with a plan to make this fake engagement believable,” Max chimes in, his tone sneaky. He’s got that glint in his eye, the one that always spells trouble.
“What if they catch us?” I ask, my voice small and hesitant.
They laugh, the sound startling in the quiet of the yard.
“Ethan and Max are in charge now. No one has ever caught them while taking over the world—no one,” Liam smirks, and I hate to admit that he’s right. Those two got away with a lot while growing up.
And while they’re certainly clever, they’re not infallible. Sooner or later, their luck is going to run out. And I’m afraid it’ll be when I need them the most.