Bad Cruz(99)

My chest hurt so bad it was a wonder I could breathe.

I all but scraped myself off of my bed, crawling my way into the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee.

Unlike me, Bear looked bright and happy as he strode in with a big smile on his face. He was already wearing his tux, which I’d had to alter three times in three months, since he seemed to be going through a crazy growth spurt.

He looked handsome with his hair slicked back, and the plume above his upper lip was conspicuously missing.

“Did you just shave?” I brought the coffee mug to my lips, taking a greedy sip.

He poured himself some orange juice, throwing me an embarrassed smile. “D’you like it?”

“Not if you used my razor!”

I thought about the places that razor had seen in the past few weeks. Especially during my hookup period with Cruz and wanted to keel over and throw up.

“Nope. Dad got me a brand new one. The one you see in TV commercials, with a central trimmer and stainless steel blade.”

“Dad, huh?”

I lifted an eyebrow, taking another sip. I tried to look much less excited than I was. I liked that Bear had a dad now.

If I expired tomorrow, Bear was officially Rob’s problem, which meant Bear had one more person to take care of him. And since I hadn’t spoken to anyone in my family for an entire week, that was definitely good news.

“Yeah. And guess what? He and Cruz said they’d take me to get a haircut in Raleigh. There’s this place where all the celebrities go. They get their haircuts there, too.”

So Cruz, Rob, and Bear were a thing now. How lovely. How truly, very lovely.

My traitorous heart did a few flips, and I put my coffee mug down.

“When did that happen?”

“Yesterday, when Dad and I went fishing and Cruz tagged along.”

They went fishing, too?

It was disturbingly wholesome.

I was starting to think they were planning Bear’s bachelor party in Vegas without my consent.

“You’re only thirteen, Bear. You should tell me if you see people who aren’t your father. I didn’t authorize this.”

“We went fishing.” Bear opened a cabinet over my head and took out a cereal box, pouring half of its content into a bowl. “Besides, we both know Uncle Cruz is not a bad influence on me. It’s not my fault you didn’t want to move in with him. Which, by the way, technically means I should be mad at you. I could’ve had a game room, Mom.”

He leaned against the counter and began shoveling cereal into his mouth using a spoon, sans milk. He got it from his dad. Rob never used to put milk in his cereal, which in my humble opinion was definitely grounds for deportation from this planet.

“Cruz told you that?”

“No, Dad did when Cruz wasn’t there.”

“What’d he say, exactly?”

“Only that I shouldn’t tell you that he said anything—oops—and that Cruz was kind of bummed about it, I guess.”

“Really?” I asked thirstily. “Did he look broken to you?”

“No.”

“Did he cry?”

Bear stared at me like I was insane.

I was insane.

“No.”

“Well, now.” I sniffed, tilting my chin up. “Guess he’ll survive, then. Dr. Costello is a very sought-after man.”

A sought-after man who stayed true to his word and hadn’t contacted me since he gave me an ultimatum and I blew it.

Bear gave me a pitiful look.

Heartbreak was so miserably horrible.

Now I remembered why I didn’t do relationships.

It felt the same as the last time I’d tried.





Three hours later, I walked into the bridal suite Trinity was occupying ahead of her church ceremony at the Grace Covenant Church downtown.

And when I say “bridal suite,” I mean her childhood room, because Fairhope wasn’t known for its hotels, or for its wedding venues, or really, for anything whatsoever when you thought about it.

It was the first time I’d seen my family since the peanut fiasco when I came to pick up Bear and got a shower of insults.

My family did not contact me after Gabriella had come to inform me she had set the record straight, and frankly, I had been too busy applying for loans to pay for my personal stylist course to talk to them.

Or maybe I just didn’t think there was much to be said after the way they’d left things.

“Mooooooom,” Trinity whined, sitting in front of her mirror in a bathrobe. “I can’t do this. I really can’t. I need to call the wedding off.”

I slipped into the room, in which Gabriella and Mom were running like headless chickens, the hairstylist pinning Trinity’s hair into place, hovering above her head.

Gabriella looked up from shining Trinity’s shoes and threw me a smile. “Hi, Nessy.”

“Hi, Gabriella.” I closed the door behind me.

Trinity welcomed me with a huff and an eye roll, and my mother gestured toward the door.

“Nessy, you’re late. Do us a favor and get everyone some refreshments and a little snack for Bethany, the hairstylist. We’re having a crisis here.”

Hello to you, too, Mother.

What’s that? Yes, I’m okay despite the jail stint. Thanks for asking how I’ve been.