The Risk (Briar U #2)(42)

Is it? Our interactions are so strained and awkward that it feels like two strangers talking to each other. There’s no warmth between us anymore. No hostility, either, but he’s definitely not the same man who used to call me Peaches.

“Okay, then. Pizza sounds great,” I say.

A short silence falls. He seems to be examining me, searching my gaze for…something.

For some reason, I feel it’s imperative to say, “I’m an adult now.”

Except saying I’m an adult now pretty much ensures that the person claiming adulthood is viewed as the complete opposite.

Dad’s mouth quirks wryly. “Well aware of that.”

“I mean, just because I’m staying here for a week or so doesn’t mean you can give me the ‘you live under my roof, you follow my rules’ shtick. I won’t follow a curfew.”

“And I won’t have you lumbering in here drunk at four in the morning.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s not really a habit of mine. But I might come home a little tipsy around midnight after hanging out with my friends. And I don’t need you to lecture me about it.”

Dad drags his hand over his close-cropped hair. He’s sported this no-nonsense military buzz cut as far back as I can remember. Dad doesn’t like to waste time on frivolous things. Like hair.

“You do your thing, I do mine,” I finish. “Deal?”

“As long as your thing doesn’t harm yourself or others, then I won’t have a reason to interfere.”

My throat grows tight. I hate that when he looks at me, he still sees that self-destructive girl with the poor decision-making process. But I’m not her anymore. I haven’t been her for a long time.

Dad turns away. “Let me know when you’re getting hungry and I’ll place the pizza order.”

He firmly closes the door behind him.

Welcome home, I think.





14





Brenna





“Omigod, Bee, you would’ve died!” It’s Friday night and I’m on the phone with Summer, who’s filling me in on the crazy shit that apparently went down yesterday, courtesy of one Rupi Miller.

“She seriously showed up at the house and dragged Hollis on a date?” The balls on that girl. I love it.

“Yes! She was wearing the cutest black dress with a white lace collar and really sweet heels, and he’s sitting on the couch in sweatpants, playing video games with Fitz. She took one look at him and screamed, ‘Upstairs! Now!’ You should have seen his face.”

I’m in public, so I can’t hoot the way I want to. But I’m hooting inside, because I can totally picture Hollis’s expression. “I bet he thought he was about to get laid.”

“I don’t know what he thought. She’s been texting him all week about their ‘big date,’ but he thought it was some sort of joke. He didn’t actually believe there’d be a date until she showed up at our door to pick him up.” Summer starts laughing hysterically. “So she took him upstairs and went to his closet and picked out an outfit for him—”

A cackle slips out. I can’t help it, and I don’t care if everyone at the train station hears it. This is priceless.

“—and now they’ve been gone for about an hour and I don’t know whether to file a missing-person report or see how this plays out.”

“See how it plays out,” I say immediately. “Please don’t come between Rupi and her man. I beg of you. Hollis needs to feel what it’s like to be harassed.”

“I think they might be a match made in heaven.”

“Here’s hoping.”

Headlights catch my attention. I’ve been outside the train station for the past ten minutes, waiting for a blue Honda Civic to arrive, and I think it’s finally here. I squint as the car approaches the curb. “Sorry, babes, I gotta go. My car’s here.”

“I cannot believe you’re going on a date and I know nothing about this guy.”

“There’s nothing to know. It’s just a Tinder guy. Probably won’t amount to anything other than a hookup.” Yes, I’m a liar. So sue me. And yes, of course I feel bad lying to my friends, but there’s no way I’m telling Summer the truth about tonight. It’s bad enough that I know what I’m doing tonight.

I offer a hasty goodbye and hang up just as the passenger door of the Civic pops open. Hmmm. Jake is sitting up front with the driver. I peer at the driver’s seat and spot a cute girl with turquoise drop earrings and big hair. Why doesn’t that surprise me?

“Hey,” he calls as he hops out of the car.

For a second I lose my voice. He’s wearing his Harvard jacket, a sin I reluctantly forgive because the rest of him is so damn appealing. His dark hair is swept back from his face, emphasizing chiseled cheekbones and a jawline that makes me drool. He’s completely clean-shaven tonight. Last weekend he had some scruff. Now he looks young and smooth and…fine, he looks incredible.

Unfortunately, Jake Connelly is a very attractive man.

I walk over to him. “Hey.” Then I slide through the back door he holds open for me, and greet the driver as I settle in the backseat.

Jake gets in beside me, we buckle up, and then we’re on our way. According to the email that Ed Mulder’s secretary sent me, Mulder’s address is in Beacon Hill. He must haul in quite the salary at HockeyNet.