Page 39 of Before You (Reckless Love #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Marley

I ADORE JJ’S family. His parents have an interesting dynamic, but it’s obvious how in love they are.

It’s crazy how much each of the Walker kids resemble their parents— I mean, yes, I look like my mother with my father’s sun-kissed complexion and blue eyes —but there is zero doubt who gets their striking features from whom.

JJ looks so much like his dad, and his brother is the spitting image of his mother.

I knew Mirabelle was beautiful from when she followed me on social media, but now I’m wondering if she’s even human because it’s really not fair to look so pretty after spending five hours on a plane.

Everyone was really nice and welcoming, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I have even more questions about Bailey than I did before. I’m just not sure if there will ever be a right time to ask them.

JJ seemed off last night, but Mirabelle appeared to be the only other person who noticed based on the way I kept seeing her eye him throughout dinner.

JJ didn’t say much to her which seems highly unusual given the way he’s previously talked about their relationship, and I’m not sure what to think of it.

Everything seemed fine at the airport, but after JJ came back from going upstairs, it was like the energy between them changed when she followed behind him.

JJ seemed to relax as the night went on, but I didn’t get a chance to ask him about it last night because he looked like he might fall asleep while walking me to my car at the end of the night.

I don’t think he slept much the night before, but I’m not sure it was possible after Trent showed up in the middle of the night, so I’m hoping he was able to rest after I left.

I woke up to a direct message from Mirabelle asking if I wanted to get breakfast with her this morning, and while it was one thing to be alone with her for five minutes at the airport, after last night, I’m not sure what to expect.

I beat Mirabelle to the local diner known for their cinnamon rolls, grabbing a table in the corner while I wait for her.

It’s only a few minutes before she walks in wearing a maroon hat, but it’s the large man behind her who pulls everyone’s attention to them.

He pulls his hat lower, ducking his head as Mirabelle smiles at me, heading our way before anyone can approach them.

“I’m sorry, Henry wasn’t supposed to get in until after breakfast, but he caught an earlier flight, so I hope it’s okay he’s joining us,” Mirabelle says, smiling apologetically as she slides into the seat across from me.

“It’s fine,” I say, giving him a little wave. “I’m Marley, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Sorry for crashing your breakfast,” he says, the corner of his mouth ticking upward into a ghost of a smile.

I almost wish he didn’t have the hat on so I could see the differences in his photo for the league Bria showed me and in person.

Either way, I can tell he’s handsome just by the way he holds himself.

“No problem, but we might need to order more cinnamon rolls,” I say and Mirabelle chuckles.

“Absolutely,” she agrees, nodding as Henry rolls his eyes.

“I’ll just get a coffee, but feel free to pretend I’m not here,” he says, his voice a rich, deep rumble.

“No, you’re less grumpy when you’re not hungry, and we’re going to a football game today with my family.

You’re delusional if you think you won’t be recognized, and I’d prefer if Stacey didn’t add more things to your schedule to make up for any negative press today,” Mirabelle says, leveling her fiancé with a look causing his face to blanch.

“Extra cinnamon rolls please,” he says, tapping his fingers on the table.

“Good boy,” she says, reaching up to pat his cheek. Oh my god, Mirabelle has him wrapped around her finger. “Thanks for meeting us here.”

“Of course,” I say, smiling, but I’m not sure if I should be afraid of her or not.

She adjusts her hat, seeming to need to do something with her hands and I know the feeling all too well. It’s taking everything in me to fight the urge to chew my nails. “Are you excited for the game today?” I ask after a moment, needing to break the silence.

“Yeah, it should be a good one,” Mirabelle says, as the waitress approaches with the plate of cinnamon rolls, and I ask her for a second order.

I want her to like me, but I’m not sure what to say.

“Listen, Marley, I’m sorry, but I’m going to cut to the chase because I don’t know how else to say it. ”

“Mira . . .” Henry murmurs, but she doesn’t look away from me.

“Say what?” I ask, my appetite seeming to fade despite the mouthwatering cinnamon roll in front of me.

“How’s JJ doing?”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, trying to decide how I want to answer this.

JJ’s made it clear he doesn’t want his family to know he’s struggling with being the one Bailey calls, and he doesn’t want anyone to worry about him.

If anything, I think JJ needs more people to worry about him.

I’m honestly relieved she’s asking, but I don’t want to betray his trust.

I can’t blame JJ for not wanting to worry his parents, especially after seeing how confused his parents were to learn he speaks Italian. I’m not trying to pass judgement, but how invisible has JJ made himself for the sake of his family?

“I’m not sure what to say.” I try to keep my answer vague, even if it feels wrong.

She takes a deep breath, shaking her head.

“I hope you know I respect you more for not just rolling over and telling me what’s going on with him.

I know I’m a lot and we only met last night, but please believe me when I say I love my brothers and I would do anything for them,” Mirabelle says, staring at me with so much emotion, there’s no way I couldn’t believe her.

“JJ’s my best friend, and I need to know if I’m making a big deal out of something in my head before I make it everyone else’s deal. ”

This family has been through hell.

I’ve been trying to understand why JJ wouldn’t say anything to anyone about how he’s doing, but it’s all starting to make more sense after meeting everyone. He wears his smile like armor, but not to protect himself—it’s to protect his family from the storm raging inside of him.

“I don’t think you’re wrong to worry about JJ,” I admit, my gut telling me it’s the right thing to do.

Mirabelle seems to be processing this as the waitress delivers more cinnamon rolls, which Mira pushes in front of Henry after I smile brightly at the waitress. “Is it his knee?”

“No, at least, I don’t think so,” I say, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. “It’s Bailey.”

Henry chokes on the drink of coffee he’s taking, and Mirabelle’s mouth falls open before she can compose herself, glancing around the table to see if anyone is within earshot of us.

“You know about Bailey?” she asks, her voice wavering over their brother’s name. Henry coughs into his elbow, finally clearing his throat before reaching for Mirabelle’s hand.

“I know he only calls JJ, and it’s taking a toll on him.”

Mirabelle’s eyes shutter as a pained expression flickers across her striking features. She’s slow to open them, and I don’t miss the warning glance Henry directs my way before she does.

“Thank you,” Mirabelle says, mustering a faint smile.

I don’t think either of us feels better, though.

~

Mirabelle was right about their family being recognized at the stadium despite all of them wearing hats and sunglasses. They’re not exactly an inconspicuous bunch with JJ’s dad, Henry, and Hunter towering over most of the people we walk by.

At first, it started with people staring, but it quickly became pointing, and then it felt like I was back in New York City on display with my family.

Mirabelle hooks her arm with mine, a smile pasted on her face. “I give it five minutes in the box before we’re on the Jumbotron,” she whispers, and I raise my eyebrows skeptically.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, and the first thing I’m doing when we get up there is getting a drink at the bar. If I don’t have one in my hand at all public outings, headlines will run tonight speculating how far along I am,” she continues.

“I wish everyone would just mind their own damn business,” I mumble, recalling all the headlines speculating my mom’s sobriety when I was growing up.

Mirabelle’s dimples pop when she turns to look at me. “Marley, if Hunt’s girlfriend wasn’t Henry’s little sister, I’d say you’re going to be my favorite sister-in-law.”

After breakfast this morning, it feels like Mirabelle and I are on the same team, and the conversation took a much lighter tone when I asked why everyone kept making jokes about fake relationships.

Mirabelle’s cheeks flushed and then she explained how her and Henry’s relationship began, and I’m starting to understand it’s not only JJ who’s a hopeless romantic. All of the Walkers are.

“We’re not engaged,” I remind her.

“He bought you flowers. Hate to break it to you, but you’re basically engaged in my family’s eyes,” she says, her eyes glimmering with humor.

All of us barely fit in the elevator, but it’s a short ride up to the boxes where I sat with my mom, Bria, and Tessa a few weeks ago. Bria and Charlie wanted to sit in the student section, insisting I needed time alone with JJ’s family.

I end up sitting between Hunter and Mirabelle, and it reminds me to send a quick text to Kaden letting him know I miss him.

We’re close, but our schedules are polar opposites with us being on different sides of the world, so our communication has been in the form of long emails recapping our weeks. I prefer to write mine in class when I’m not paying attention to my professors.

His last email told me he’d be back for Thanksgiving and Christmas, so I’m looking forward to holiday breaks.

“Do you want anything from the bar?” Mirabelle asks, and I shake my head.