Page 31 of This Kind of Forever
I know it’s natural for him to want to cut me some slack, given I’m his brother, but I don’t want that. A part of me wonders if it’s his guilt rearing its ugly head again. I’ve never blamed him for what happened with his ex—when Kristina was supposed to be watching Abbie and instead held a party, resulting in a fire—but it has been a point of contention for him. Hell, it nearly cost him his relationship with Delilah. But I don’t want him walking on eggshells with me.
Connor finds me in the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee. One look at his face tells me I’m not going to like whatever he plans to say.
I’ve known Connor since the beginning of grade nine. The Lees moved to the island that summer, and we met in gym class on the first day of school. Back then, we were both a couple of scrawny, barely pubescent boys. Now Connor rocks a killer mustache and can bench-press more than me.
Wordlessly, I take two mugs down from the cupboard, then lean against the counter, waiting for the caffeine to brew.
Connor takes up a spot beside me.
I raise a brow in question.
“So…” he begins casually. “How’s it going, living with Hallie?”
He’s certainly not pulling any punches. But that’s Connor. Subtlety has never been his forte.
“It’s…”Slowly making me lose my mind. “Fine.”
He scoffs as he crosses his arms. “Fine? That’s all you’re gonna say?”
I shrug. “It’s good. She has a safe place to stay, and Abbie likes having her around.”
“And so do you,” he adds.
I say nothing. We both know he’s right. Having Hallie back on the island is amazing, but having her in my home? It’s a dream. And if I don’t think about it too hard, I can pretend, just for a moment, that she’s there to stay. That she isn’t going to leave again, without so much as a goodbye.
Avoiding Connor’s watchful gaze, I rub at my chest. The phantom ache there. It’s ridiculous, I know—I need to move on. Except I’m not sure how to do that when I couldn’t even manage in the ten years she was gone. Now that I’m in her orbit again, I’m finding it difficult to extricate myself.
“Look, just be careful, Gabe,” he says. “You know I like Hallie, but…”
But he hasn’t hidden his disapproval of our current living situation. I get it, I do. It’s not exactly conventional, and it’sborderline agonizing at times—like when I catch her in nothing but a towel—but I can’t do anything about it now. I meant what I said about hating the idea of her out in the guesthouse alone.
The truth is, I never want Hallie to look at me again like she did that day on the beach. I put my heart on the line, and I made her so uneasy, sheran. Away from me, away from the island. So as much as I want her, I’m not going to jeopardize our slowly returning friendship. I can’t.
A little of Hallie is still better than none of her at all.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him. “We’re friends, and I’m helping her out. That’s what friends do.”
He sends me an unconvinced look, but he thankfully doesn’t push.
A small knock has us both turning toward the door. Hallie stands in the threshold, a sheepish smile on her lips. Instead of a towel, she’s wearing a black overall dress with gold buttons running down one side. It’s a little looser on top, showing off her white t-shirt beneath, but it hugs her hips perfectly. My hands curl around the edge of the counter behind me to keep from reaching for her.
Without conscious thought, a smile tips my lips. “Hey,” I say.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hey.”
Connor steps forward, grinning, like our previous conversation didn’t even happen. “Hallie Foster, in the flesh. Good to have you back! How are you?”
“I’m good, Connor. How are you? Your parents?”
He nods. “They’re alright. Driving me nuts now that they’re both retired. They need to get a hobby or something.”
Hallie laughs. “Pops went a little stir-crazy when he retired, too. They’ll get used to it. They might even have a better social life than you before long.” Which would be a feat, considering how much Connor loves to socialize.
I push off the counter, crossing to her. “What are you doing here?” I ask. “Is everything okay?”
“You left your phone at home.” She digs around in her purse and pulls the device out, handing it to me. “I figured it was pretty important you have it.”
“Thanks.” I take the phone and pocket it. “I was in such a rush to get out the door, I must’ve forgotten to grab it.”
