Tease (Cloverleigh Farms #8)(74)

“No.”

She wiped off the table with a sponge. Then she stood there with her hands on her hips. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I clenched my jaw a little tighter.

“Is it the hearing?”

“That’s a lot of it.”

“So what’s the rest of it?”

I averted my gaze out the window again. The kids were drawing with sidewalk chalk on the cement in front of the garage.

“You know I’ll get it out of you.”

“Maybe I’m dreading that stupid engagement party.”

“Hutton! You’re not supposed to know about that.”

“Too late.”

“Who told you?”

“Felicity. She heard it from her sister that works at Abelard, because unlike my family, her family knows how much I hate parties and gave us a warning.”

Allie tossed the sponge in the sink and sat down at the table, flashing her palms at me like she was innocent. “It was not my idea, okay? But Mom consulted some crazy celestial calendar that said to throw a party on that date. When she found out it was available, she took it as a sign from the stars.”

“Of course she did.”

“Is that really what’s bothering you?”

I exhaled, wishing I was outside drawing with chalk instead of in here under the microscope. “There’s just a constant loop of negative shit running through my brain, okay?”

“They’re just thoughts. You don’t have to give them power.”

“Don’t go therapist on me. I don’t fucking need it right now.”

“Okay, okay.” Her tone softened and she sat back. “I just want to help.”

I dug in deeper. “You can’t help.”

“All right. Then I’ll just say I’m really proud of you for having the guts to finally admit your feelings for Felicity and asking her to marry you. I know how hard that must have been. And I think you made the perfect choice. She’s really amazing.”

She was amazing. Goddammit.

“She’s so good for you,” Allie went on. “She’s always understood you so well. You really need someone who’s a safe place, someone to ground you. But also someone who can stand up to you when it’s necessary.”

“I know,” I snapped. I didn’t need to be told Felicity was one in a million. This wasn’t helping.

“I’m just so glad you got out of your head and told her how you feel before it was too late. I mean, it took you long enough—but also, it came out of nowhere. One minute you won’t even go to a reunion, and the next—poof, you’re getting married.”

I looked at her. “Allie.”

“Yes?”

It was so obvious. “You know.”

“Know what?” She blinked innocently at me. “That your sudden engagement is totally ridiculous? That it was a ploy to get Mom off your back? That you two are actually in love but somehow feel more comfortable faking it? Which thing that I know should we talk about first?”

“Fuck. Why didn’t you say something?”

“What good would that have done? You two clearly had your reasons, you’re consenting adults, and people work out their shit in different ways. I just figured this was your way of finally crossing the line without fear. If you could call it all for show, it was less pressure.” She grinned. “Plus, it was a riot to watch you two react that morning at your house.”

I groaned. “I can’t believe you knew. You made us take all those pictures! You made us kiss.”

“I know.” She chuckled. “So did you guys plant the story yourselves?”

“Not exactly.” Taking a deep breath, I launched into the story—how Felicity had blurted it out at the reunion, how she’d asked me to come rescue her, how the story had leaked, and how I’d convinced her to keep up the act.

“To get Mom off your back? Was I right about that?” she asked, since she was still my big sister, and being right mattered.

“Yes. Also . . .” I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Also, you wanted to be with her. And this handed you the opportunity without the vulnerability.”

I frowned. “You don’t have to make me sound like an asshole. We both agreed to the plan.”

“I’m not here to judge you, Hutton.” She sat back. “But I have a feeling something went wrong with your plan.”

“Nothing was wrong with the plan,” I argued. “The plan was perfect. What went wrong was that I tried to make it better, and she got mad.”

She put her chin in her hand. “Go on.”

“We were going to get through the party, then break it off and tell everyone we’d decided we were better off as friends when I went back to San Francisco.”

“But then you realized you’re in love with her and that plan sucks?”

I jumped out of my chair and started pacing. “Look, it doesn’t really matter how I feel. We can’t stay together.”

“Why not?”

“We just can’t, okay? I’m going back to San Francisco and her life is here.”

She cocked her head. “So it’s the distance?”

“Yes,” I lied.