Page 52 of The Love You Fight For
“The hell she is,” Tiffany says. “I’m not letting anyone from that family into this house. Who the fuck even invited her?”
“You said fuck,” Lucy shouts from the stairwell, and Tiffany flinches.
“She’s coming with Lennon and Macon.” I keep my voice hushed so no more little ears overhear. “I don’t know why, but I just found out. They’re probably pulling into the driveaway any second now.”
“No.” My sister shakes her head rapidly. “Absolutely not. No.”
She turns to head toward the door, but my father puts his hand on her shoulder and stops her.
“Don’t make a scene,” my father says. “We don’t want that to be something the twins remember about their sixth birthday.”
Tiffany opens her mouth to protest, but I speak up, cutting her off.
“Sam’s not her dad, Tiff. She’s not her brother. Just...just cut her some slack, okay? I know I’m asking a lot, but...please.”
Her nostrils flare as she flicks her eyes from me to Michael.
“I’m fine, babe. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” she hisses. “You expect me to let someone from that family into our home? Around our kids? You expec?—”
Tiff’s voice stops at the sound of the doorbell, followed by the sound of the twins shouting “DOOR” and running down the stairs. I know it’s Macon and Lennon because as soon as the door opens, Lucy squeals Evie’s name, and Macon and Lennon’s voices chime in with happy birthday wishes.
I give my sister a tight smile and raise my eyebrows in question. She frowns at me and looks away. Awesome. I glance at my dad and Michael and am relieved to find that they both look significantly less pissed.
“Good?” I whisper, and they both give me half-hearted nods. Good.
I school my face into something that looks less like a grimace, then head toward the living room.
“Hey, hey.” I slap Macon’s hand, then pull Lennon in for a hug. “Glad you guys could make it. I see you’ve already lost your gremlin.”
“They stole her as soon as we walked in.” Lennon laughs.
I can hear Evie giggling with Lucy and Luke upstairs. It’s already chaos and there are only three kids here. I don’t know how the house is going to withstand the seven more coming.
“Harper.” I finally let my eyes settle on her. She looks paler than usual, and there are faint purple shadows under her eyes. She looks miserable and lifeless, and I have to resist the urge to reach for her. “Welcome.”
“Casper.” She nods, and I note the strange hoarseness in her voice. “Thanks for letting me crash your niece and nephew’s birthday party.”
Macon and Lennon head into the kitchen, but I don’t follow. Instead, I stand in my sister’s living room and find myself scanning my eyes over Sam. Her signature red lipstick washes her out in a way it normally doesn’t. Her hair, usually glossy and straight, is pulled up into a messy ponytail, and she’s wearing a plain T-shirt and cutoff jean shorts.
I’ve never seen Sam in anything so casual, and it catches me completely off guard. Even in high school, she dressed like something out of a fashion magazine. The last time I saw her, we were making out like teenagers in the parking lot of The Outpost. Now, she’s standing in my sister’s living room wearing jean cutoffs and flip-flops and looking like something out of a psychological thriller.
Something happened. Something not good.
“How you been?” I ask softly, and she snorts.
“Is this what we’re doing now?”
I raise a brow at her tone. Cold. Unfeeling. Dead.
“Iswhatwhat we’re doing?”
“How you been,” she repeats, voice low and mocking. “Don’t make things weird, Casper. It was just sex and some fooling around. We can be adults about it.”
I force a grin and take a step toward her, closing the distance sothere’s little more than a foot of space between us, then lower my voice to a whisper.
“It wasn’tjust sex. It was a little oral play. We haven’t even gotten to the sex yet.”
