Chapter 28
“Okay, we’re going to slowly add two cups of flour to the wet ingredients as they mix,” Maryanne says patiently.
It’s Thanksgiving, and in the spirit of family, I volunteered to help her prepare the meal. In hindsight, I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t cook. Like, at all.
She scoops a cup of flour from the bag and demonstrates how to add it to the mixer, just a little at a time, so it fully incorporates with the wet ingredients before adding more.
“Alright, I got it,” I say, extending grabby hands for the measuring cup.
“Are you sure?” she asks, raising it just out of reach.
That’s fair. More than once today, I’ve said, “I got it,” when I most definitely did not have it.
“Look, I’m sorry about the thing with the carrots,” I say, genuinely. “But I promise I can do this.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but she hands it over anyway, because she’s Maryanne, and she’s far too nice. She really should have kicked me out of the kitchen hours ago.
I try to follow her directions. Really, I do. But about halfway through, I get bored and dump in more flour than I should. A cloud of white powder puffs up into my face, and I double over coughing like I’ve just been tear-gassed by Pillsbury.
“Lina!” Maryanne scolds. “What did I say about adding it slowly?”
“I’m sorry!” I wheeze.
She sighs, wiping flour off the counter. “Go clean yourself up while I finish this. And maybe… find something else to do until dinner. Oh, and if you see Axel, send him down. He can actually follow instructions.”
Ouch.
I retreat upstairs, properly chastened, but when I glance in the bathroom mirror, I burst out laughing. A thin layer of flour coats my face and hair, making me look like a dusty Victorian ghost.
I turn the shower on, needing to clean up before dinner anyway.
The bruises from Darren have finally faded, and I’m starting to feel a little more like myself again. Without the visual reminders, it’s like I can almost pretend nothing happened. Almost.
After drying off, I get dressed in a new outfit Maryanne helped me pick out during our last shopping trip. The top is a burnt orange, off-the-shoulder slouchy sweater that’s cute and cozy. It gives the perfect fall vibe. I pair it with dark wash jeans and brown boots.
I’m in the middle of straightening my hair when Axel wanders in without knocking and flops face-first onto my comforter like it’s his bed.
I eye him in the mirror. It’s not lost on me how comfortable he’s gotten being in my bed, lately. I should probably do something about that.
“Hey. Maryanne said you have to keep me company until dinner,” I lie.
He smirks. “Is that what she said? Or was it to get out of her kitchen and send Axel down because he’s the helpful child?”
Busted.
I give him a sheepish grin.
“The carrot thing was an accident.”
“Sure it was.” He flips over onto his back and folds his arms behind his head. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Nevertheless, Axel stays and chats with me while I sit in front of my floor-length mirror, carefully running the straightening iron through sections of my long, golden hair.
I’m just reaching for my mascara when footsteps sound in the hallway. Nik strolls in like he owns the place. He had Thanksgiving lunch with his family, but when he heard we were having dinner, he invited himself over for a second round. Smart guy.
Nik’s in a fitted cobalt sweater that makes his eyes stand out even more than usual, and jeans that leave very little to the imagination. Axel lifts an eyebrow when he walks in and lets out a low whistle.
“Damn. You dressing up for our girl here, or just showing off?”
Our girl? I blush.
“Maybe I dressed up for you.” His gaze slides to me, then back to Axel with a playful glint.
“Keep dreaming, Romeo,” Axel mutters, but there’s no heat in it, just a curl of amusement. And something else. Something unspoken.
Nik leans against the wall near the mirror, watching me put the finishing touches on my makeup. Through the reflection, I glance at him, then at Axel. They’re watching each other with the kind of lazy focus that makes it hard to tell if they’re annoyed or intrigued.
“You two need a room?” I ask, arching a brow.
Nik chuckles breaking their stare off. “Only if you’re in it.”
Axel doesn’t laugh, but his mouth twitches. “Careful. She might take you up on that.”
“Wouldn’t be the worst way to spend a holiday,” Nik replies, tone light, but there’s a weight behind it.
The air tightens. The three of us are balanced on the edge of something dangerous, daring ourselves to step closer.
I step back.
I grab my gloss and swipe it over my lips, acting like I don’t feel the shift.
“God, you guys are ridiculous,” I mutter, reminding myself how to breathe.
When I finally stand, Nik lets out a low whistle of his own.
“Well, look at you, hot stuff.”
“Shut up,” I say, but my face flushes anyway.
“Aw, don’t be like that. You know we love you,” Axel chimes in from the bed, stretching his arms above his head, his muscles flexing, shirt riding up just enough to distract.
“Yeah, yeah. I guess I love you idiots, too,” I mumble, smiling despite myself.
Nik holds out his arms for a hug, and I let him pull me in. His grown in beard is soft against my cheek, and I feel Axel watching from the bed, unreadable.
Nik drops a kiss on my cheek, murmuring, “You smell good.”
“Easy,” Axel warns, voice tightening.
Nik turns his head slowly, eyes locking with Axel’s across the room. “You jealous?”
Axel’s mouth curves, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of you? Never.”
But the air between them hums with something taut and unspoken.
Something that makes the back of my neck prickle.
Nik’s hands linger on my waist a second longer than necessary before he pulls away, and Axel’s fingers twitch where they rest on my bedspread, like he’s fighting the urge to intervene. Or join.
Whatever’s between them hums beneath the surface. I don’t know if it’s rivalry, history, or something else entirely, but I feel it all the same. And it’s definitely not one-sided.
The moment ends when Axel clears his throat and says, “Did you hear about Johnny?”
Just like that, my stomach drops, and the tension gives way to something else entirely. Something much harder to face.
“No? What about him?” Nik bites, clearly intrigued.
Axel glances at me, hesitation flickering in his eyes before he speaks. “He’s bringing a girl to dinner.”
I school my expression, but inside, something breaks open. A quiet, sharp ache that burrows beneath the skin.
“What?” Nik’s brows shoot up. “When did he meet someone?”
“No clue,” Axel replies with a shrug, though his eyes trace back to me.
“If he’s introducing her at Thanksgiving dinner, it’s gotta be serious,” Nik adds, totally unaware he’s twisting the knife.
“I guess we’ll find out,” Axel says. Then to me, softer, “You ready?”
I force a smile and hope it passes for casual. “Almost. You guys head down. I just need to reapply deodorant.”
It’s a terrible lie, but they don’t question it. As soon as the door clicks shut behind them, I dart into the bathroom and lock it. My hands grip the edge of the sink as I stare at my reflection.
You shouldn’t care. He made his choice. He walked away.
But I do care. And that’s the worst part.
I can’t forget the way he listened to me like I was something precious. The way our kiss sparked the kind of fireworks you only hear about in the movies. And then, nothing. Silence. Distance. Like I never mattered at all.
He left. When I needed him the most, he was already gone.
“Pull it together,” I whisper to the mirror. “You’re better than this.”
I smooth my sweater, touch up my makeup, and make sure I look fierce, not fragile. One last breath, and I head downstairs.
Axel, Nik, and Ben are in the kitchen, keeping Maryanne company as she finishes the last-minute details. Johnny hasn’t arrived yet, but my eyes immediately catch the extra place setting at the table.
So, it’s real.
I tell myself to be kind, to be gracious. None of this is her fault. I don't even know her. Still, I can feel the pressure thrumming under my skin.
A few minutes before six, the familiar growl of Johnny’s motorcycle echoes up the drive.
“That should be them!” Maryanne says brightly, already moving toward the front door. Ben follows with an arm slung lovingly around her shoulders.
How come she gets to ride on his motorcycle?! I’ve been begging for a ride for weeks, and all I get is a lecture about it ‘not being safe.’
“Ten bucks says she’s a total babe,” Nik mutters under his breath, trailing after them with a grin.
Axel stays behind, watching me with concern.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.” The answer is too fast. Too sharp.
He doesn’t push. “I wanted to warn you sooner. I just… didn’t know how.”
I let out a laugh, but it’s thin and brittle. “Why would I care? He’s free to date whoever he wants.”
Axel doesn’t say anything. Just studies me. We both know I’m lying.
“He’s being a dumbass,” he says finally. “You know that, right? Anyone can see the way he looks at you.”
I can’t answer. I don’t trust my voice.
He turns to walk away from me, but I can’t suffer through dinner leaving things like this. In a panic, I reach out and grab the back of his flannel before he can leave.
“I’m sorry.” I make sure to inject all the vulnerability I’m feeling into my voice. “Thank you for not letting me walk into this blind.”
He turns back, the warmth in his eyes softening something in me. “I’d never let you do this alone.”
He offers his hand. I take it. And suddenly, I’m not walking into this dinner as the girl who got rejected. I’m walking in with someone who sees me. Really sees me. And I’ve never been more grateful.