Page 80 of Fake It Till We Fall
No.
Not again. Harper wasn’t my future. She never was, and it was long past time I realized that and moved the fuck on.
“Hey.”
I jerked my head up to see Quinn standing over me, bundled in a purple coat with a matching purple knitted toque with a sparkly pom-pom that was nearly as big as her head attached to the top.
“Hey, kiddo. What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”
She shrugged. “I saw you and…well…here.” She thrust out a mittened hand. “I think this belongs to you.”
The ring.
The sight of it hit me square in the chest.
After Harper had thrown it, I’d let it bounce into the snow, unwilling to go in search of it a second time. I may be a slow learner, but I did learn. Eventually.
“That’s not mine.” I turned away from my niece and picked up the hammer again.
“Yes, it is,” she said with the confidence only a thirteen-year-old could have. “Or it’s Harper’s, but either way?—”
“Quinn,” I snapped. “Not now. I’m busy.”
She didn’t move. “You don’t have to bite my head off, Uncle Gray. I was just trying to help. I thought you might want it before some kid finds it and thinks they struck gold.” She thrust her hand in front of my face.
“Quinn,” I growled, and swatted her hand away. “Drop it, okay?”
The moment the words came out of my mouth, I regretted them. I rocked back on my heels and looked at my niece.
Her eyes were narrowed into slits, her lips pressed tight. “You don’t have to be such a jerk, Uncle Gray. I was just trying to help. Because I saw you and Harper, and it looked important.” She set the ring on a folding chair with exaggerated care. “Next time I’ll let the random kids fight over it.”
Before I could apologize, she spun around and took off, running toward the brewery.
“Quinn,” I called after her, but it was too late. “Fuck.”
I shook my head and made a note to take my niece a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows from the Bean Bag when I was finished. She was right; I didn’t have to be such a jerk. Not to her.
I clapped my hands together in an effort to bring back some feeling and continued with my work. The only way the stage was going to be ready for the plaza New Year’s celebration was if I did it. Just like everything else around town that fell on my shoulders. It didn’t seem to matter whether I wanted to do it or not; somehow, I was always volunteered for whatever task Tilley could think up.
I didn’t usually mind, and it was true that I needed the distraction from the fact that my life had just totally blown up; still, it pissed me off, just like everything else had since I’d walked out of Harper’s apartment on Boxing Day.
I swung the hammer, harder than necessary, and missed the nail I’d been aiming for, cursing as I lined it up again.
“Is that making you feel better?” Ethan’s voice came from behind me. “Or was it being an asshole to my daughter that helped?”
Fuck.
I lowered the hammer and turned around to see my brother, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at me. Before I could speak, he continued.
“Whatever the hell is going on with you, Quinn didn’t deserve that. You don’t get to take your shit out on my kid just because you can’t seem to figure your life out.”
Heat rushed up my neck—part shame, part anger. Before I could get a word out, Reid appeared next to Ethan.
“Why don’t you let me take this one?” He clapped our brother on the shoulder. “I’ve got this.” My twin turned back to me, his expression like steel.
Ethan muttered something under his breath and stalked away, leaving me with Reid.
I shook my head and moved to turn back to my work. “Look, I know Quinn didn’t deserve that. I was an asshole, and I’m going to make it up to her. I just?—”
