“Savage!” Storm yelps. “Watch your language in front of Angelina.”
I look over at my niece, but she has her eyes glued to the iPad on the table in front of her and isn’t paying anyone an ounce of attention.
“She didn’t hear me.”
Storm rolls her eyes and gives an exasperated sigh.
Skye chimes in from the other end of the table. “Tell us about the girl.”
Fucking nosy women. I almost miss Stone.
“We met because her sister works for me at the club. She’s an investigative reporter for the Times. We went to dinner the Friday before we all went out for Stone’s graduation.”
“And it was good?” Storm asks, her genuine interest apparent in the way she turns her back to Ben and Angelina and leans toward me on the table.
I think back to the dinner, and how amazing it was once she loosened up. “It was spectacular, actually. We talked and texted the whole time I was in Cali.”
And did a whole fucking lot more than that, but that isn’t for anyone else’s consumption.
“No wonder you were in such a good mood the entire time we were there.” Storm smiles at me.
Skye snorts. “So, why are you being such a douche now? She get wise and dump your ass?”
“Skye Marie Hawke!” my mother snaps. “Shut your trap.”
I chuckle at my mother’s ridicule of my sister. Skye has always been the sassiest of the Hawke children and the one who tests my mother’s patience and temper the most. My mother has given her a lot of leeway since Star’s death. Losing your sister is gut-wrenchingly painful, but losing your twin sister, that’s another form of misery I can’t even begin to fathom. Skye hasn’t been handling it well, anyone can see that, but she keeps everyone at arm’s length and has adamantly refused to talk about the accident, or Star’s death, with anyone, as far as I know.
Maybe I shouldn’t talk. I haven’t exactly been forthcoming with my family about everything either, and I was a total dick to the psychiatrist who tried to talk to me in the hospital. We Hawkes are known for our stubbornness and need for control. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me she would react the way she has.
“No, she didn’t dump my ass. At least, I don’t think she did. I guess that’s the problem. I have no idea where we stand right now.”
“What happened?” Mom asks.
Sighing, I drop my head back and stare at the popcorn ceiling of the dining room for a minute. I know they aren’t trying to pry—they’re genuinely concerned about me—but sometimes I wish my family didn’t care quite so much. It might leave me some space to breathe.
Returning my eyes to the table, and finding them all staring intently at me, I know I won’t get out of this without telling them.
“Well, she came over to my place for dinner last night, and things didn’t exactly go smoothly.” I glance around the table, hoping that will be enough to satisfy them, but they all urge me on with their eyes.
“Why not?” Skye asks, finally sounding like she really gives a shit instead of just asking to goad me.
I drop my head into my hands and grit my teeth. “Because she didn’t know.”
“She didn’t know what?” Skye continues and I look up at her just in time to see her take another drink of her wine.
Storm glares at her, then turns her attention back to me with a sympathetic smile. I don’t have to say it. Everyone, except Skye apparently, knows exactly what I am talking about. “How did you manage that?”
“It wasn’t intentional. It just kind of happened that way. When she came to my office I was behind my desk, and when we had dinner at Angelo’s she came late. I was already at the table.”
Storm groans and leans back in her chair. “And you didn’t think to maybe mention it to her?”
I growl and slam my palm against the table, garnering a look of reproach from my mother. “Of course I thought to mention it, but things were going so well, and it’s not like it organically comes up in conversation.”
Skye scoffs. “No shit.”
“Seriously, Skye?” I snap at her.
She holds her hands up in surrender. “Sorry. Shutting my mouth now.”
Storm laughs at her. “Yeah, right, that’ll last ten seconds, tops.”
“Stop it,” Mom barks. “Savage, what happened?”
“Well, when she saw me, she dropped the bottle of wine she was holding and it shattered all over the floor.” Everyone, including me, cringes and I debate how to tell them the rest while keeping it PG. “Then, I told her about the accident and we had dinner. I thought it went well…but, after we were done, she high-tailed it out of there like her ass was on fire and told me she would talk to me later.”
“And?” Storm stares at me intently.
“And, it has been almost a full day, and not a single word from her.” I can’t remember the last time I sat around waiting for a phone to ring.
Adults don’t do that, do they?