Page 60 of Where the Little Birds Are (Little Bird Duet 2)

With or without the jacket, there’s no denying what’s under my coat. As I reach for the zipper, footsteps sound on the kitchen linoleum before stopping behind me. When I turn, Dad looks between Corbin and I with his gray brows raised before they drop to my midsection.

“Hi, Dad,” I squeak.

His lips part as he blinks, his throat bobbing over the sight of me. I try to keep calm, forcing even breathing, and do my best to smile even though it’s weak. He manages to meet my eyes with his distant lighter ones, before nodding his head and rubbing a palm over his graying beard.

Corbin steps forward and stretches his hand toward him. “It’s nice to see you again, sir.”

He doesn’t say it with any fear, and I wonder if I can soak up some of his strength for myself. My chest feels heavy as I watch Dad’s gaze lower to Corbin’s hand. When he finally lifts his own to shake it, I let out a breath of relief.

“Can’t say I thought I’d see you again,” Dad admits without any hostility in his words. It’s just a casual statement—one that I can’t blame him for making. They tried talking to me about Corbin a lot when I was younger, and I always shut them down.

They drop their hands and I take the pastries from Corbin. “I brought you all something. Is, uh, Gavin here? I thought I saw his truck outside.”

Dad steps aside after accepting the box, examining the contents through the plastic top. “I told him to stay in the other room for now. It’s just him. Kayla and Sam are visiting her parents. We thought it might be best…” His eyes glance at my torso again before quickly darting away to look in the other room. “He and your mother are in there waiting. Better take off your coat. Looks like there’s a lot to discuss.”

Corbin’s hand goes to the small of my back, which Dad doesn’t miss. He simply purses his lips and nods before walking back through the kitchen.

With shaky hands, I unzip my jacket and let Corbin help me out of it. He hangs it beside his and takes my hand. “Good or bad,” he reminds me, gesturing to toward the voices.

The sweater I wear is loose enough not to cling too much to my midsection, but it’s clear as day what’s going on beneath the scratchy knitted material. Corbin and I walk side by side toward the voices, the light from the dining room reflecting from the black linoleum under our feet. I focus on that.

When we near the archway that connects the kitchen and dining room, all talking ceases. It’s Corbin who powers through and squeezes my hand once before we stop in front of everybody. The pastry box sits open between Mom, Dad, and Gavin on the table.

Gavin blinks as his gaze slowly trails to Corbin. He doesn’t make a face or say a word. His expression remains blank.

Mom’s eyes widen when she sees my stomach, and I want nothing more than to hide behind Corbin. But I don’t. I stick it out and give her a timid smile, but she doesn’t return it. She just stares, unblinking, and I can’t figure out what her expression says.

“Well,” Dad says, gesturing toward the empty chairs at the other end of the table, “might as well come on in, kids.”

My lips part in surprise as I unwrap my hand from Corbin’s and walk over to the first chair closest to Mom. Corbin takes the chair at the end of the table opposite of Dad, leaving only one open spot between he and Gavin.

The room is eerily quiet.

It’s Corbin who clears his throat. “Kinley and I wanted to talk to you all about something important before it hits the papers.”

There’s another pause while my family shifts their attention to me. They all knew the biggest news because of Gavin, and they’re smart enough to piece together that showing up here with Corbin means that something is going on beyond what their eyes can see. Still, verbalizing that isn’t any easier.

But I know I need to. Heart thumping violently in my chest, I take a deep breath. “I know that you aren’t going to be happy with what I’m about to say, but we made our decision. It’s pretty obvious that I’m expecting and soon enough a lot of people are going to learn that too. The things said about us in the news will get a lot worse because of it, and we’ve accepted that we deserve as much. But what we’ve chosen to do is final and there’s nothing you can say to change anything at this point.”

Mom’s brows arch like I’m calling her out, making me sink down a little in my chair in discomfort. “Corbin and I spoke when I was in California and buried a lot of bad blood from high school. We both made choices that weren’t smart given the circumstances, but…”

Words escape me as Corbin’s hand finds mine. He cups it on the table, squeezing once and nodding as I meet his eyes. “The stuff the media is saying is true and even though I’m not proud of it, it made me realize what I’ve always guessed all these years. I’m not over him.”

Now Gavin swears. Corbin doesn’t let go of my hand as Gavin’s chair scrapes back and he stands. “When we spoke—”

“Sit down,” Dad tells him, snapping his fingers and pointing toward the chair my brother occup

ied.

“Dad!” Gavin argues, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. “You can’t just sit there and let them tell us this like it isn’t fucked up. This whole thing is—”

“If their minds are set, they’re set,” Dad says, though I can tell he isn’t as okay with it as he pretends to be. What parent would be? They raised me to have morals—respect for others. Everything that I was taught disappeared when I set my eyes on Corbin Callum and kept them there.

In high school.

In California.

Right here nine years later.

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