Page 39 of Going All In

“Six thirty! The early bird gets the worm!” Mom chirps.

The early bird would get something thrown at it if I had a suitable projectile. I fold the afghan and place it over the back of the couch after I sit up.

“You sleep okay?” Robert asks over the rim of his coffee.

Idid, until you two lovebirds woke me up. “Yeah, it was fine. Thanks for letting us crash here. I’ll wait until Holly is up so someone can drive us both to the train station.” I stand and stretch. “Is there more coffee?”

“Of course. Creamer is in the fridge.” Mom waves her hand in that direction, like I don’t know where the kitchen might be after living in this house for something like thirteen years. “But I asked Holly to come with me and the girls to do the last fitting for my wedding dress. Addie or I will drive her home after, so you don’t have to wait around.”

I was hoping for some more one-on-one time with Holly to see where she stands after last night, but it looks like that’s not going to happen today, or at least not this morning.

The coffee maker is still half full when I enter the kitchen, and I fill a mug to the brim with morning sludge. No need for creamer to dilute the caffeine, which is what I need right now.

I lean against the kitchen island and take the first sip. Just the aroma wakes me up a little, and I’m almost functional when a pounding on the stairs cuts into my thoughts.

Addie shuffles into the kitchen in an oversized sweatshirt and pajama pants. Her red hair is up in a messy bun, although some of the strands have escaped and are framing her face. She’s only a morning person when she wants to be, and apparently today isn’t one of those days.

She doesn’t acknowledge my presence while she grabs a mug from the cupboard and fills it with coffee, then adds a liberal splash of creamer.

She drops into a kitchen chair and takes a few gulps before she finally looks at me.

“Are those your boxers in the bathroom trash can?”

13

HOLLY

Istare at my reflection in the mirror, trying to make sense of everything.

I kissed Maddox last night. I fucking dry humped him.

I’m not sure what it says about me that I came harder from over-the-clothes action with Maddox than I did from sex with old boyfriends.

I shake my head. This is Maddox. My friend. Myfuture step-brother.I can’t think of him like that. His mother invited me to go help her with her wedding dress fitting today, for God’s sake. I have no business getting horny over her son.

What would my family think?

I haven’t seen most of my extended family sinceThe Incident, as JJ has taken to calling it. I’m not sure that label really covers the abject humiliation and devastation of that day, and I’m not doing anything to put myself in a position like that ever again.

I can only imagine if I showed up to the wedding in a relationship with Maddox. The judging looks. The conversations in the ladies room:She’s such a nice girl. Poor thing. It’s a shame she has such bad taste in men.

My clothes are still folded in a pile on the counter where I left them last night, next to Maddox’s. I pull them on and leave Maddox’s t-shirt in their place next to his pants and sweater, which are folded so nearly they look like they belong on a display in a retail store.

The pink toothbrush is sitting in a cup next to the seashell-themed sink. I brush for more than the recommended two minutes, ruminating on everything that happened last night before I spit and rinse my mouth out.

It appears that I’m the last one to wake up and make my way downstairs, although I’m one of the only ones who put on actual clothes. Judy and Dad are dressed normally, but Maddox, Addie, Josie, and Chris are still in pajamas, with everyone lounging on furniture in the family room, all comfortable with one another.

If only my extended family were like that. Heat rises in my cheeks as I see Maddox’s boxers, definitely different ones than he wore last night.

I saw the other pair in the bathroom trash this morning. God, I hope no one puts that together.

“Coffee is in the kitchen, dear,” Judy calls from her spot in an armchair in the family room.

I just offer a nod, unprepared to deal with humans before caffeine. Especially humans who may or may not have found Maddox’s boxers in the bathroom trash can. How does one even explain that?

I open cabinets until I find the mugs, piled high in mismatched stacks. The first one I can reach says#1 Mom. It’s chipped and obviously well loved. I mix coffee and creamer together and carry it into the family room just in time to see Addie launch a pillow at Josie, bringing an amused smile to my lips.

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