Chapter 134
Harper
Easton and Dad return from the patio and Easton looks like he's seen a ghost.

Or an entire colony or paranormal creatures.

He's pale and sweaty and I feel terrible for him.

I can't believe Dad hauled him outside.

Well, I can, but I can't imagine what he said to him.

Part of me wants to ask Easton when we get a minute alone, and part of me would rather never know to save myself the embarrassment.

“Are you all right?"

I whisper the moment he's at my side.

"No."

He wipes his forehead.

"I'll never recover from that conversation.

Ever."

I glance at my dad who's now standing next to my mom as she adds dressing to the salad.

The two of them smiling at each other, like they just checked the final item off their list.

"Was it that bad?"

“Let's put it this way ..."

He glances toward the oven.

“If there are buns in there, baking, don't serve me one."

He adjusts his shirt and I see the sweat marks under his arms.

"In fact, I don't know if I'll ever eat another bun again."

Oh God.

It was THAT bad.

"I'm going to go add ice to the water glasses,"

I declare, and quickly fill a large bowl with cubes and carry it into the dining room, Easton on my heels.

When I get us out of ear range, I say softly, "What did he say to you?"

He holds onto the back of a chair.

"Oh, he covered it all—birth control, pregnancy, not being allowed in your room or touching you under his roof, you going to college, dropping out of college because of me."

He pauses.

"I think I've covered most of it."

"I think I'm going to be sick."

He shakes his head.

"That makes two of us."

I drop the ice into the glasses and move over to him.

He immediately takes a step back.

And then another.

“Easton?"

"I don't want him to think anything is happening in here."

"Seriously?"

place the bowl

that?*

out

you have no idea."

"Ugh."

to kill my father, but I

can't come fast

Except ...

I really mean

be off

I will be, too.

if those places aren't anywhere near each

is done, can you grab it from the

calls from

ice being put in the glasses and no longer wants us alone

already

"Be right back,"

into the kitchen, grabbing the mitts before I

Mom is cutting and plating the

“Mom?"

up, the knife still in her

“Mmm—hmm?"

know how to say this, but I

has gotten the wrath

Can we...

I don't know ...

move on and never mention"—I nod toward the living room where the Christmas tree sits

down, the noise making a clank against the

you really think you're in a

hands on her

got off thin ice, young

your

down your neck every time you

push it,

back, I don’t care where we end up, graduation

answer, giving her a taste of her

the front door, in a

floods through

toward the entryway of the kitchen, where Easton is standing, he mouths,

“You're late,"

say, punching my brother in the arm as he joins us in the

Sadie, she was being

“Ryan!"

her

"He's lying!"

smiling, hugging Ryan hello, not

course, she doesn't get

He's a son.

tree shenanigans don't apply

Ugh.

Again.

“How's it going?"

as she

looks like he's about to

surprised he

"That good, huh?"

I was going to have to fake an illness or drop the lasagna or set the kitchen

pulls out of

"I'm glad you didn't.

horrible liar and

you'd see

start laughing at the

So does Sadie.

whole build—up of tonight and all the anxiousness I've been feeling makes me

“What's so funny?"

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