Page 27 of Chasing After You
Actually, practicing is not a bad idea.
My uncle clears his throat from where he holds the door open for me, and my bravado immediately disappears.Holy shit, I kissed Henry Price’s cheek, and I did it in front of my uncle.
I back away, taking care not to trip over my own feet as I follow Uncle Owen out the door, praying my face isn’t as cherry red as it feels. Thankfully, he cuts me some slack and doesn’t say anything about it.
“What kind are we feeling? Soft-serve or scooped?”
“Either works, but we don’t actually have to get ice cream. I’m okay, so there’s no need to take me out for a treat after a bad day,” I offer, smoothing my hair back down from when he mussed it.
“Honestly, I’d rather take you for a drink, but as your dad so graciously pointed out earlier, you aren’t twenty-one. Ice cream is probably better for you anyway, and I want ice cream. So if it makes you feel better, it’s mainly for me,” he says as I do my best not to backslide into a puddle of guilt and sadness at the mention of earlier.
“If you insist,” I agree, sliding into the passenger side of his BMW.
He pulls out of the driveway, staying unusually quiet. I don’t like it. It’s abnormal for Uncle Owen to be quiet, and I know he has something to say about all this. He can’t fool me. “Just say it,” I say, and he rolls his eyes.
“I hope you know how much you take after your mom. She’s done the same damn thing since we were kids.” Uncle Owen chuckles, tapping his hand on the steering wheel, but I’m waiting for him to get to the real reason we’re going for ice cream. “Okay, fine. I know you care about Henry, but you don’t have to go through with this fake relationship if you don’t want to.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to help Henry. If this is what he needs, then I guess the fake relationship needs to happen. I never thought my parents would hate the idea so much.”
“Your parents love you. God, Mira, you have no idea how much they love you,” Uncle Owen says. “They’re not perfect. Sometimes they are so far from perfect, the only thing they resemble is a walking disaster.”
I look down at my hands, cringing at the sight of the chipped pink polish on my fingernails from picking anxiously at them today. “I know they love me, and I don’t expect them to be perfect. I expected them to at least hear us out.”
“Not their strong suit I’m afraid.”
I turn to him, wondering what exactly he means by that. I’m not sure if I asked him, though, whether he would tell me. “Why were they so mad at Henry? I thought they loved him.”
“They do, but they love you more,” he says, glancing over at me after stopping at the red light. “I can’t pretend I understand all their decisions. What makes the most sense to me and Blake, is it caught them off guard. Henry has always played the role of a big brother in your life, and they trusted him with you. Five years doesn’t seem like that big of a deal to you, but I guarantee you that Bash is replaying every time they’ve left you alone with Henry. At some point, you were thirteen and he was eighteen, or fifteen and twenty.”
“But it’s never been that way between us,” I defend Henry, and Uncle Owen’s hands go up in defense.
“You asked why they were mad, and that picture Stacey painted today was pretty damn believable, even if it’s not the truth. Just because you know Henry didn’t groom you, it doesn’t mean your parents are wrong for considering it could have happened. Sometimes the people closest to you are the ones that can do the most damage,” Uncle Owen says wisely, and I’m dumbfounded by how much that makes sense. “They’re worried. The fire last night has them both on edge, and I’m not speaking for your dad because I’ve always thought he was an idiot, but they’re good people, Mirabelle. They’ll come around.”
I never thought about it from their perspective.
“Oh.”
“It’s a bit more complicated than you realize, but it’s their job to look out for you. Yeah, they reacted poorly, but if you look on the bright side, no one was hit,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood in the car.
It’s so incredibly not funny, the only thing to do is laugh. “Yeah, only because you body blocked my dad.”
“Take the win where you can get it, missy.”
CHAPTER NINE
Mirabelle
I TAKE OUT my headphones as I jog up the front porch of Henry’s house. My skin is covered in sticky sweat, and I’m out of breath from the three miles I decided to run at the ass crack of dawn. Even at this hour, the Carolina humidity is killer. I miss the ocean, and unfortunately, running doesn’t give me the same high as it does for my brothers.
Quinn’s motorcycle is parked in front of the garage door. I didn’t see it earlier when I left, but I also wasn’t looking for it. I think I remember Henry or Wilson saying something about how he crashes here sometimes.
I walk in the front door, making a beeline toward the kitchen to throw back a few glasses of water. Is this what dying feels like? I didn’t think I was this out of shape, but maybe I am.
Quinn glances over his shoulder to look at me, clearly having heard me come in.
“Good morning,” he greets, setting his protein shake on the counter as I do my best to muster a tired smile. Why is he shirtless? Doesn’t he know it’s rude to walk around half naked in other people’s houses?
“Morning,” I reply.
