Page 8 of Myla: The Hawthornes

“No, Cian.”

Mom let out a small huff and patted my back. “There, there, sweetheart.”

I slumped against her. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”

“Sure is,” she whispered, her voice laced with amusement.

Chapter 2

Cian

“Is Myla comin’over tonight?” my best friend asked. Coincidentally, he was also Myla’s older brother and my landlord. It was a bit of a clusterfuck.

I let out a small huff of laughter. “Doubt it.”

“She’s still pissed?” He leaned against the porch railing and resettled the baby sitting on his forearm. “This has gotta be a record.”

“Not sure what she wanted me to do.” I shook my head. “Your pop was about to tear my head off, I wasn’t gonna lie to him.”

“You probably didn’t need to lay it all out so… eloquently,” Titus replied, smiling. “I wish we woulda been there.”

“He was about to laymeout,” I said defensively. “She’ll get over it.”

“It’s been a few weeks. Have you reached out?”

“After she told me to get the fuck away from her and never talk to her again?” I asked with a sigh. “No.”

“She was just emotional. You know how she gets when she’s hungover.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“No, but Noel has.”

“Figures.”

“Not gonna tell you what to do—”

“Great.”

“—but it’s been pretty quiet around here. You may want to extend the olive branch.”

Titus and Noel’s two little girls came screeching around the corner, waving as they rounded the front of the house and disappeared again.

“Oh, yeah,” I said dryly. “Real quiet.”

“Just sayin’.”

“I saved your sister’s ass, and somehow, she’s twisted it into me bein’ some kind of asshole for doin’ it,” I argued. “She knows where to find me when she gets over her bullshit.”

Titus laughed. “I don’t know which of you is more stubborn.”

“You and Bas still helpin’ me next Saturday?” I asked, changing the subject. “Brody said he’d come over and help.”

“Of course,” Titus replied. “I still can’t believe you’re movin’.”

“You guys need your space.” The little girls made another pass along the front of the house, breathing heavily but still running. “It’s good timin’.”

“Your aunt still insisting on selling that property to you for a steal?” he asked curiously.

---