Page 53 of Castaway Whirlwind
By the tone of Max’s voice, you wouldn’t guess at his feelings, but those agitated fingers of his drumming on the tabletop are a dead giveaway when he asks, “You’re already living together? That was fast.”
It was agonizingly slow,actually. But I don’t have the energy or desire to explain our timeline and relationship to Max when it’s none of his business. After all, he’s not Layla’s dad, either, and it’s hypocritical considering he and Cora are technically living together, too.
Layla cradles Gauge in one arm and rolls up onto her tiptoes, pushing her fingers into my hair. I lean into her hand, wishing we were alone so I could close my eyes and truly enjoy her touch without an audience.
“That was really kind of you,” she says softly, pulling me down for a kiss. “Thank you.”
“Ew.” Cora’s mouth twists, her cheeks flushing when Layla gives her a wounded look. Cora drops her chin as if she’s sharing a secret when she whispers, “Sorry. It’s just…he’s so old, and you know…” I’m assuming she’s referring to my weight when she waves her hand up and down my form.
Though I shouldn’t care what she or anyone else thinks of us, it’s still a punch to the gut. It’s ugly how I punch back when I ask, “And how old are you?”
“Eighteen,” Cora answers.
Narrowing my eyes as I study her smooth, rounded features, I ask, “How long have you been eighteen?”
“Long enough for us to fall in love and start a family,” Max answers before Cora can, gripping her hand on the tabletop, giving his girlfriend a charming smile that has Cora mooning over him.
I see right through it. “Is that right?”
“Yup.” Max pops the P. “‘Sides, I’m sure you agree age is just a number, what with Layla being over half your age.”
I fist my hands, barely keeping myself from throwing a punch at his face. “Is that why no one stepped in when Layla moved in with Steven when she was still a kid? Age was just a number?”
Max’s charming smile melts into pinched lips. “She made her bed,” he says, leaving theso she had to lie in itunspoken.
I straighten, fury pulsing hot in my veins. “She was fifteen!”
Layla gets between me and her brother, sliding her hand up my chest with a plea in her eyes. “Please, drop it. Please. It’s in the past.”
I grit my teeth and shut up with no intention of “dropping it” for long. I want to revoke the invitation to let Max stay with us if only to get Cora and Layla away from him. But if I did that, I’d hurt my little darlin’, which I’m not willing to do.
Ever.
Chapter 17
Layla
Max whistles as I had done when he gets his first look at Russell’s house. Since his car wouldn’t start, even after we tried jumping the battery, we’re all squeezed into Russell’s truck. His bed is overflowing with all our belongings, which I didn’t get a say in, since Russell packed my suitcases with just about everything I own before I got the chance to pick what I wanted to bring.
Not that I minded.
I have a sneaking suspicion he won’t be letting me leave, either. And also that he took my book, since I couldn’t find it anywhere.
Russell pulls up to the left side of his garage and asks Max to help him bring everything in through the side door that opens into the living room.
Cora follows me into the kitchen with Gauge. “This place is huge,” she whispers in awe, dropping her head back while she does a slow circle like she’s looking at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. “Now I get it.”
“Get what?” This may only be the third time I’ve been toRussell’s house, but after cleaning it from top to bottom, I move around the space as if it really is my home, flipping on the overhead lights as I go.
“Why you don’t care that he’s so old,” Cora says like it’s obvious.
“I told you, it’s not like that.” I drop the backpack and my tote bag on the kitchen table, rubbing my lower back, dog-tired and ready for bed. I sigh, toeing off my sneakers, dreaming of the hot shower I plan on taking, wondering if Russell has another nightgown he wants me to wear. I hope so.
Cora and I both scream shrilly and clutch each other, scaring Gauge when a huge body materializes out of the shadows near the primary bedroom with a mothereffin’ shotgun. Russell vaults over the luggage he and Max have just finished bringing inside and rushes to my side, shoving Cora and me behind him before realizing who it is that scared us.
“All clear,” Elliott says.
“Gotdang, Elliott. Could’ve done without you scaring the ladies,” Russell chides.
