Page 14 of Bloom

Avoiding her gaze, I needlessly rearrange the vase of calla lilies decorating the counter. “I’m not sure I can.”

There’s a brief pause. A sigh. Footsteps. Then, Lux ducks into my line of sight. “You’ve been kinda AWOL lately.”

“I’ve been busy.”

With what?her frown seems to say, and I flinch just a little, adding, “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You don’t bother me.” Playful sarcasm curls her lips. “Anymore.”

It’s a joke, I know it is, but it still hits a little harder than intended. It must show on my face because Lux swears while Alex gargles a noise that sounds suspiciously like‘uh-oh.’“I shouldn’t have said that.”

Lifting my gaze, I do what I do best; fake a smile. “It was funny.”

A shaking head of dark hair disagrees. Reviving that frown, Lux cocks her head inquisitively. “Did something happen? Someone say something?”

“No, I just…” I scramble for the right words, the right version of the truth. “I didn't want to overstay my welcome.”

“Line.” Lux groans, her head momentarily dropping back in frustration before righting. She takes a step forward, Alex’s sling brushing my middle as his mother plants her hands on my shoulders, her grip heavy and her expression serious. “I thought we were past this.”

Past what? Me being her brother’s ex? Her not liking me? Her family not liking me? Her familyneverliking me because… like I said, I don’t even know. We never talked about it. One day, we weren’t even on speaking terms and the next, she was visiting the store, inviting me to lunch, asking to join me on a trip to one of the flower fields nearby. I never asked what changed because I didn’t really care, Idon’treally care, I’m just glad it did.

But sometimes, the not knowing makes it easier for the doubt to creep in. The insecurity. Not a trait I particularly like about myself, but it’s there, and there’s nothing I can do about it. “We are,” I lie—kind of? A little bit? “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to bring all of that up.”

Looking every bit the mother she recently became, Lux sternly repeats, “You don’t bother me.”

I try to look like I believe her. “Okay.”

“We're friends,” she says, her tone leaving no room for arguments. “I'm not gonna take that back. You've grown on me.”

Beneath the fake smile pasted across my lips, a genuine one twitches. “Like a fungus?”

Lux adopts a mischievous grin of her own. “I was thinking more like a weed, but sure.”

As I drag a broken bookshelf outside, shallow breaths leave in wheezes—the storage barn is basically one enormous dust ball determined to reignite the asthma I, for the most part, grew out of when I hit puberty.

Resting my palms against the dilapidated furniture, I suck in deep lungfuls of fresh air, willing the whole panting and wheezing thing to stop because talk aboutembarrassing. A hand landing on my lower back makes me jump, and anotherjolt of surprise rushes through me when I look up and find Grace frowning at me worriedly. “You okay?”

I nod as I quickly straighten up, wiping my dusty hands off on my shirt and offering a smile. “Just unfit.”

Skeptically, she tracks my uneven breaths. “You need your inhaler?”

It’s my turn to frown. “How do you know about that?”

“My brother used to make us vacuum every time you came over in case the dust triggered an attack.”

“Right.” I laugh around the sudden hard lump making my throat feel tight. “Explains why you all hated me so much.”

Grace’s face falls fast, her ponytail swishing as she shakes her head in a panic. “We didn’t—”

“I’m joking. Kinda.” I bump my hip against hers, smiling softly. “I’m all good. Thanks for checking.”

The sweeter—by a long,longshot—of the Jackson twins returns my smile. I’ve always liked Grace. Everyone likes Grace—she’s known as the nice sister for a reason. I bet Lux didn’t even have to bribe her to help out today, like I know she did with Eliza, and God only knows how she roped Lottie into this. Who, unlike her twin, is not happy to be here. And she’s not afraid to show it either. I think she's 'accidentally' broken more things than she's salvaged.

I tried not to take the nasty scowl she shot my way to heart, if only because everyone else got the same treatment. Except for Grace, that is. It must be a twin thing, how she’s the only one the faux redhead tolerates. And protects, I guess, because I can only assume that our conversation being cut short by a loud, summoning bellow is Lottie saving her poor sister from my presence.

As Grace runs off, I start back towards the barn, but my footsteps slow when someone emerges from the wide-open doors. Wood creaks and snaps as Hunter tosses the old chairs inhis grip to the ground. Six chairs. Three in each hand. Not a drop of sweat on his brow or a single heaved breath.

Show off.

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