Page 81 of Hot Receiver

I got an earful about that from her. She wants me to be happy because she’s a frigging saint. I want to be happy, too, but if it means living a life without Zak in it, I’m fucked. Because there’s no “happy” in that.

I grab my phone and squint at the screen, my eyes adjusting to the bright light.

Shit. It’s ten o’clock already?

A text from Brett Travers grabs my attention. I click into it and narrow my eyes at the screen.

“Your ass is mine now.I’m gonna drive you into the fucking ground so far, you won’t ever claw your way back out.”

What in the ever-lovingfuck?

My insides are plunged into a deep freeze.

Fuck my life, does he know more than I think he does?

A knock at my door makes me shoot straight up in my bed. Panic rises in my chest.

I scramble to pull on a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt, then dart to the front door. Something inside of me flickers to life, and I hold my breath as I press my face to the peephole to see who’s standing outside.

I stop with my hand on the door handle. For a hot second, I hope and pray it’s Zak, which is ridiculous and stupid, but the thought consumes me.

Maybe, just maybe?—

When I fling open the door, I don’t think I could be anymore shocked.

Summer and Missy stand in the hallway, big grins on their faces and large suitcases behind them.

“Matty!” they exclaim.

I pull them in close for a tight hug, and then, we wheel their luggage inside while I try to work out why they’re here to surprise me.

“You guys, what the hell are you doing here? You came all by yourself?”

Then, in the middle of my shock, a sudden freefall situation happens inside of me. My gut drops to my feet. “Shit, something happened at home, didn’t it? Why didn’t you call? Are you fucking nuts for taking that trip by yourselves?”

Summer puts her hand on my arm. Like that’s gonna calm me down.

“Relax, Matty. We left super early for a good reason. And Mom drove us to the bus station. She said she was going to call and let you know.”

I scrub a hand down the front of my face then stare down at my phone. I scroll through the notifications. Missed call, missed call, missed call.

Fuck.

Ringer’s off.

I shut it off when I went into the chapel last night and never turned it back on. I guess since I already knew I wouldn’t hear from the one person I wanted more than anything to talk to, I wanted to shut myself off from the rest of the world.

And at no time during my fucking pity party did I even think about the shit show back in West Virginia.

I stare at my sisters. They look a little tired but happy. Excited, even.

“Did something happen? Is that why you’re here?”

Summer shakes her head. “No. Mom just thought we should come and visit for a while since we’re off from school for break.”

I rub my chin. After the last conversations we had, Mom really changed her tune. She was so resistant to sending the girls away, taking them from Dad.

What the hell changed?

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