Whitney poured herself a cup of coffee and gave her a simpering smile that was much too sweet. She really should have been an actress. “Of course, Mom. Don’t worry about us.” Her eyes flicked in my direction. “Meg and I will be fine.”
My smile was decidedly more strained. “Yeah, we’ll be fine.”
Mom didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she left the kitchen, warning us that the house better be standing when she got home.
Whitney and I didn’t speak for a long time after Mom left. I busied myself making toast then slathering it with peanut butter. Whitney opened a yogurt and ate it quietly.
“Well, I’ve got to get going,” I said after an excruciating fifteen minutes of tortured silence.
Whitney looked up, almost as if she forgot I was there. “Where are you going?”
I thought about telling her to mind her own business, but I owed it to Mom to be civil. “I’m painting a mural downtown for the town’s bicentennial.”
Whitney licked her spoon before dropping it in the sink. I pointedly picked it up and put it in the dishwasher with a glare in her direction.
“Mom mentioned that. She said you were painting the side of Adam’s office building,” Whitney said, purposefully ignoring my glare.
“Yep,” was all I said. I recognized the tone of her voice. She was digging for information. She should know I wouldn’t give it to her. At one time, I would have told her everything. I realized then how much I missed that. How much I missed her. But it wasn’t my fault we had drifted apart.
Right?
Adam.Whitney.
What if it was my fault I’d lost both of them?
Whitney grabbed hold of my arm. “Meg, if we’re going to be living under the same roof, let’s try to get along. At least for Mom’s sake.”
I was suddenly tired of my self-righteous anger. What had it ever gotten me anyway? But that didn’t mean I had to do all the changing.
“Fine, but that means you have to lay off the selfish bitch act. It gets old,” I retorted.
Whitney looked taken aback, but she didn’t respond with a waspish response. Maybe I wasn’t the only Galloway to learn when to hold my tongue.
She let go of my arm. “Maybe it’ll be nice to spend some time together again,” she ventured hesitantly.
“Yeah, maybe,” I agreed, softening slightly.
Whitney rinsed her coffee mug and with a look at me, put it in the dishwasher with exaggerated slowness. I couldn’t help snorting.
“Okay, well, I’d better go,” I said, grabbing my keys.
Whitney followed me to the door. “It’s strange being back here. Was it weird for you?” she asked, holding the door open for me as I carried my supplies outside.
“It was like walking in shoes that used to be comfortable but no longer fit if that makes sense.”
Whitney nodded. “Completely. I mean it’s nice to be home, but it’s not the same without—”
“Dad?” I filled in for her.
Her green eyes grew bright, and I knew she was trying hard not to cry. “Yeah,” she said softly.
Without thinking, I put my arm around her and gave her a quick squeeze. “It gets easier, though. I even kind of like being back now. Though if you repeat that to anyone, I’ll deny it.” We shared a grin for the first time in what felt like forever.
“Could that have something to do with a certain man you swore to despise until your final breath?’ Whitney teased.
“Things are…better where Adam’s concerned.”
“Maybe we can get some dinner in the next few days. Just the two of us. And you can tell me how things are better.” Whitney seemed hopeful. I could see that she missed me as much as I missed her.
Pride really was a lonely emotion. Perhaps my relationship with Adam wouldn’t be the only thing to get better.
“I’d like that. Though there’s nothing to say about Adam.” Lie. Lie. Lie.
Whitney smirked. “I don’t know about that. I’ve seen that look in your eye before, remember.”
I waved away her comment with a laugh. “Talk to you later.” And I quickly headed to my car before I gave myself away.
Chapter 17
Adam
I was having a super shitty day.
I was fucking exhausted. The late nights with Meg were starting to take their toll. I loved having her in my bed for as long as she’d stay there, but three hours of sleep before a hearing wasn’t ideal.
If I were honest, it was more than being tired. My emotions were frayed to the point of snapping. I didn’t know what was going on with Meg. One minute I’d think things were great, the next she would freeze me out. Her continued insistence that what we were doing was only sex hurt. I didn’t want it to but fuck if it didn’t.
Because what I felt for Meghan Galloway was a lot more than lust.