Page 92 of His Heart

“Good, you’re here,” Mom said, but her smile faded when her eyes landed on Brooke. “Oh. I didn’t realize you were bringing… guests.”

“I texted you, Mom,” I said. “Did you forget to check your texts again?”

“I guess so,” she said.

The awkwardness level was off the charts. Cami’s cheeks flushed and she seemed to be trying very hard not to look at Brooke. Charlie finally stopped coughing and Olivia patted him on the back, quietly asking him if he was all right. I kept my arm around Brooke, my hand on her bare shoulder.

I’d never felt this way in my parents’ house before. Defensive and territorial, my instincts on alert. This place had always been home, but tonight it felt like walking into a trap.

I decided to ignore the fact that my ex-girlfriend was inexplicably here, at least for the moment. “Mom, this is Brooke. You met her once before, but that was quite a while ago. And this is Olivia Harper.”

My mom blinked when I said Harper, but quickly recovered her manners. “It’s lovely to meet both of you. Hi, Charlie.”

“Hi, Mrs. McKinney,” Charlie said. “Uh, hi, Cami.”

Cami gave him a weak smile.

“Well, isn’t this lovely?” Mom said. “I’ll set some extra places at the table. There’s more than enough for everyone.”

My mom went back to the kitchen, Cami close on her heels. Charlie met my eyes, giving me a what the fuck look. I just shrugged. I didn’t know what was going on. I held Brooke back while he and Olivia went into the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry about this,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Cami is… well, she’s my ex-girlfriend.”

“Yeah, I gathered that,” she said.

“I have no idea why she’s here,” I said. “My mom is friends with her mom, but I thought she lived in Chicago or something. I haven’t seen her in years.”

“She’s from… before?” Brooke asked.

I nodded. “High school. Early college. I’ll get my mom alone and ask her what the hell is going on when I can. But if you’d rather go…”

Brooke put her hand on my chest. “No, we don’t have to leave. It’s fine.” She glanced toward the kitchen. “I just hope Olivia doesn’t make it worse. She’s really good at that.”

“Yeah, this is going to be interesting.” I touched her chin, tilting her face up, and planted a soft kiss on her lips. From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Cami watching us from the other room, but when I looked up, she wasn’t there.

I led Brooke into the kitchen where everyone else was standing around. My dad came out of his den and looked even more surprised to see Brooke and Olivia than my mom had. He gave Mom a sidelong glance—there was a distinct I told you so in his expression—and politely greeted both of them.

God, this was going to be the weirdest dinner ever.

Mom asked Cami to help her pour wine, and it didn’t escape my notice that Cami seemed to know where everything was. Brooke and I both declined a drink.

“Oh my god, Seb, look at you,” Olivia said. She stood in the hall just outside the kitchen in front of all my old wrestling pictures. “You look so different without your beard.”

“Yeah.” I wished my parents would take all that shit down. “Those pictures might as well be a different guy.”

“They’re still you,” my mom said with a smile. “You’re still the same.”

Hearing her say that didn’t sit well with me, but I wasn’t sure why. Brooke slipped her hand into mine and squeezed. I glanced down, and she met my eyes with a comforting smile. It was like she understood what was going on inside me, even when I didn’t.

“I barely recognize you with that baby face,” Olivia said. She turned to Charlie. “Did you look this young when you were a wrestler?”

Charlie usually kept a few days growth of stubble, rather than a thick beard like mine. But we’d always had to shave when we were wrestling. He rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, except I’m way better looking.”

“You wish,” I said.

Cami helped my mom get the food on the table. We all sat down and passed things around, dishing up our plates. The tension in the room was so thick I was surprised any of us could breathe.

My mom’s expression was calm, but the worry lines in her forehead deepened every time she looked at me. My dad was either oblivious, or choosing to ignore the awkwardness. Charlie met my eyes with an amused grin. He was clearly enjoying my discomfort. I kind of wanted to punch him in the face.

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