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I pushed off him, but of course, landed on my back with him on me.
“Shower first,” he stated. “Then food. Then the blanket.”
“Whatever,” I said to his ear.
“Harlow,” he called.
I looked at him.
He spoke.
“You said it, which is good, because if I witnessed that in person, I would have said it, and it would have gone really fuckin’ bad.”
“Stop being protective and awesome when you’ve just been a complete and total man,” I warned.
“Not sure I can be anything but a complete and total man,” he replied, his eyes dancing. “Also not sure you want me to be.”
This was true.
Ugh!
“I need to spend money,” I declared.
The last word was not fully out of my mouth before we were out of bed and on our way to the bathroom.
Honestly?
I was not at one with all I’d just said to my mother.
Then again, I never would be. The time would never be right.
I had no idea what would come of this. If we’d struggle forward as a family, but for me, I’d have built the boundaries I needed so I wouldn’t be forced “deep into my feelings” by her casual cruelty. Or if I’d just lost a parent, or two, or my whole family.
I just knew I’d done what I’d done. I couldn’t change it. It had to be said. It was long past time. It was said.
And it was time to pick the perfect throw blanket for Javi.
NINETEEN
“ROYALS”
(LORDE)
The next day, after our before-work make out session in his truck, I wandered dazedly to the back door of The Surf Club, waving hazily at Javi.
He watched me, smirking supremely smugly.
God, he was hot.
I got inside, did my stowing-purse, putting-on-my-apron thing, and wandered into the kitchen, saying to Lucia, “Hey, Lucia.”
She was arranging some greens fastidiously on a plate, so, as per protocol, she ignored me.
I hit The Surf Club proper.
When I did, Willow, behind the bar, gasped.
Standing at the bar, Byron’s eyes got big when they landed on me.