Page 165 of Bad Reputation

I look around for Maximoff. The three-year-old is playing patty-cake with Jane on the carpet.

“That’s not going to happen,” Lo says. “We have an adorable baby.”

“So do Rose and Daisy.”

“You don’t have to look,” Lo tells Lily.

But I’m positive he can’t help himself. I chew another chip and watch this go down.

I don’t even know what I would do in their position. Maybe burn it. Stop the temptation.

While Lo reads through the article, Lily slides towards me and we chat about movies. I think it’s helping distract her from the tabloid, but I haven’t seen as many films as she’s mentioning. Ever since Willow left, I haven’t had the energy to go to the theater.

After a few minutes, Lo finishes reading the article and drifts back to us with chips and salsa in hand. “Little ‘puff,” he calls out to Lily.

Puff is just in reference to Hufflepuff, her Harry Potter house. Willow made me take the sorting quiz too, and I’m Gryffindor like my girlfriend.

I almost smile remembering how Willow spent an hour explaining our house to me and the history behind it. She said Gryffindors are brave, and I get why she’s meant for this house—she’s the most courageous person I’ve ever met. But I’m not sure I fit the mold. Really, of any house or secret club or thing.

Lo stands behind Lily and rests his chin on her shoulder. His eyes flit to me and then back to her. “What are we talking about?”

“Nothing,” Lily says too fast and spins around to face her husband.

Lo stuffs the chip bag underneath his arm. “Nothing?”

“That’s what I said,” she snaps.

“Christ, when’d you get so sassy?”

Lily crinkles her nose, trying to put on a “tough” face. But she fails. Lo sticks his chip between his teeth, freeing up his hand, and he pinches her nose.

Lily playfully pounds her fist into his arm.

Lo feigns a wince and mumbles, “Ouch, love.” He tilts his head back and the chip falls into his mouth.

Their love is an all-consuming thing when you’re in the room with them, and my all-consuming love is thousands of miles away.

3,539 to be exact.

Why am I even here again?

To watch them flirt. To be the seventh-fucking-wheel.

So I blurt out, “We were talking about Justice League 2.” The movie isn’t coming out any time soon—the release now up in the air (which Lily and I were discussing)—but the mention of the DC property is enough to receive a Grade A grimace and glare from Loren.

Seeing him drop his own wife on the ground for talking about DC should have probably made me hesitate. But maybe I have a death-sentence.

Murder me.

It’d be easier being dead.

Lo flashes a half-smile. “Why don’t you go talk about that down the street, turn right, approach a mailbox that says Abbey, walk up the driveway, slam the door—goodbye.” He waves curtly.

Bile rises to my throat. If he even knew what walking up to my family’s home means…

But maybe that’s where I deserve to be. Pressure sits heavy on my chest, and I spin an unlit cigarette between my fingers. Ryke would probably shit a brick if I smoked in here, but I could leave.

That’s what Lo wants anyway.

Anger and something worse pounds against me. “You want me to go home?” I snap and then grind down on my teeth.

Home.

Let me go home and break another rib.

Let me go home and give my mom a chance to save me. Only to push me in a snake pit all over again.

Lo holds my gaze. “I want you to not speak about what-shall-not-be-named inside my brother’s house, and if you can’t handle that, then yeah, you can go home.”

“Lo!” Lily chastises in shock, jaw dropped.

Loren pushes her chin up, closing her mouth. He almost smiles. “Lily.” He mock pouts.

She pokes his chest. “You’re not being nice.”

“Because I’m not nice.”

I release a tensed breath. He’s just being a normal, raging asshole. I have to remember that Lo doesn’t know anything about my home. I don’t think he’d poke at this part of my life if he had any idea about what goes on there.

Lily slides her hand to Lo’s cheeks and she’s looking at him with intense fuck me eyes, so I focus elsewhere. The ceiling. The floor. My phone.

No new texts.

Willow’s probably asleep.

I waver between staying here and jumping off the counter and leaving. But even with Lo practically painting neon arrows towards my house, I like it here. My other option is sitting alone in my apartment.

Being alone sounds horrible.

I’ve never enjoyed my own company. It’s mainly why I spent my prep school years with terrible friends because surrounding myself with people (even shitty ones) was better than being left with my own fucking self.

Instantly, I decide to stay. I’ll grab a drink—soda because Ryke doesn’t have alcohol in his house—and maybe eat some cake and then leave.

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