Page 6 of Her Filthy Secret

“No.” My mom slaps her dishtowel on the sink. “You’re jealous of your sister. That’s why you do it.”

“I’m not jealous of Harbor. That’s crazy.”

“Yes, you are.” I laugh at his mortified expression and pick up the towel my mom dropped, snapping it between my hands as I prepare to smack him in the arm. He’ll never let me close enough to pop him on the butt. We love each other, but I’ve always had the biggest rivalry with him. “You wanted to be the baby, and you’ve been pouting since the day I was born.”

“I’m not jealous.” Seeing a big snarly man pout makes the shitshow of a day feel a smidge better.

“She’s got you there.” Cole smacks him in the chest. Heat covers my cheeks as I didn’t realize he’d come inside. I drop the towel and brace my shoulders while plotting an exit strategy. Except my mom doesn’t like being left alone to do all the cleanup work.

Shit. It’s her birthday. She shouldn’t be doing any of it anyway. Suck it up, get it done, and leave.

“Cole is right.” My mom braces her hands on her hips. “You’re jealous that Harbor left to go to college, and you stayed behind. You’re mad she’s found a fabulous job in the city and gets paid more money than you do.”

“Someone, please stop her.” Connor rolls his eyes. “When she’s on a roll, she doesn’t quit.”

“You’re also angry that she earned salutatorian for her class when you only came in fifth.”

“Have you seen the losers in her class?” Connor waves his hand dismissively when no one steps in to save him.

“Bite me.”

“And you can’t stand the fact that your friends find her attractive.”

Oh, my God, she did not just say that. What’s wrong with her? Now, she’s throwing me under the bus.

“No, they don’t.” He frowns and shifts his attention to Cole, who’s rolling down the top of a half-empty potato chip bag and looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

I open the refrigerator and haphazardly load the side door with condiments. I’m going to pretend they’re not talking about me and hope they all go away. Cole drops a handful of empty soda cans into the recycling tub.

“Do they, Cole?”

“Um….” Cole’s face turns a darker shade of red as he ignores everyone’s gaze. “Well….”

“Thanks.” I glare at him and slam the door shut, causing two glass bottles to clink together.

Connor drops his arm to his side as the heat shifts from him to his friend and marches to the island where the tray of leftover sandwiches sits on the counter but doesn’t make a move to prep them for storage.

“I didn’t mean–”

“Don’t.” I raise my hand to ward off whatever he’s going to say because if he insults me, I’m likely to smash my fist into his gut. Granted, it’s so hard I’d probably break my knuckles versus hurting him, but I don’t want to hear that he finds me as repulsive as he did in school. “I’m not looking for compliments from either of you.”

“Listen–”

“I said, don’t.” My jaw is tight as I bite out the words and march toward the island.

“You don’t have to worry, dear.” My mom pats my shoulder. “I’ve seen how the guys look at you. They can’t take their eyes off you, and I completely understand why. Those photographs Layla takes of you and sells to those romance authors, they’re phenomenal.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome.” I ignore the guys as I wrap the platter of sandwiches with plastic wrap.

“I saw a certain someone eyeing your butt when you picked up that–”

“Who?”

“What’re you talking about?” I simultaneously ask to Connor’s question. He presses his hands into the island opposite from me while leaning across the distance between us. “Are you seeing one of the guys?”

“No.”

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