Blame It on the Bikini - By Natalie Anderson Page 0,58

his mother.

She looked appalled.

‘We can’t eat it all.’ Brad shrugged. ‘Honestly, Mother, what’s the point? Let’s do something decent with it.’

He looked at his mother, who looked at his father, who said nothing.

‘Great idea,’ said Lauren, standing up.

‘Okay,’ said his mother slowly.

‘I’m not that hungry anyway,’ his father commented.

‘Good,’ Brad said. ‘Why don’t you two go down together to deliver it?’ He stared at his parents, who both stared, rather aghast, back at him.

‘That’s more your mother’s scene,’ his father eventually said.

‘It’s Christmas Day,’ Brad answered firmly. ‘You should be together.’ He moved forward. It’d be a relief to escape the picture-perfect scene with the empty undercurrents. ‘We’ll all go.’

Open-mouthed, Lauren watched him gather up a couple of platters.

‘Come on,’ Brad said insistently. ‘Let’s do it.’

He was surprised that they actually did. They loaded all the food into his father’s car, and Brad and Lauren followed in Brad’s car.

For two hours they stood and served food to the people who’d come to the shelter. Their platters had gone into the mix, and his parents were now fully engaged in dishwashing duty.

‘This was so much better than a strained dinner with them,’ Lauren muttered under her breath.

‘I know,’ Brad agreed. ‘Genius. But are you hungry now?’

‘Yeah, but not for any kind of roast.’ She looked slightly guilty. ‘How bad is that?’

‘Why don’t we go get Chinese?’ he suggested with a half-laugh. ‘The restaurant round the corner from me does really good yum char.’

‘Shouldn’t we have dinner with Mum and Dad?’

‘Nah, let’s leave them to it. We’ve done enough family bonding for the day.’

‘I actually think they’re happy the way they are,’ Lauren said as she pulled a chicken dish towards her, half an hour later.

‘You think?’ Brad asked.

‘Yes.’ Lauren chewed thoughtfully. ‘Surely if they weren’t, they’d have done something about it by now?’

‘I think they’re just used to it.’ He sat back and toyed with the food on his plate. ‘They’re apathetic and simply don’t care enough to do anything to change things.’

‘It’s a waste,’ Lauren said.

‘It is,’ Brad agreed. ‘Maybe they’ll learn something at the shelter.’ He grinned. ‘It might be a Christmas miracle.’

Lauren suddenly looked serious. ‘Have you seen Mya recently?’

Brad’s moment of lightness fled. He shook his head and stuffed rice into his mouth to keep from having to answer.

‘She’s not really a sister to you, is she?’ Lauren said slyly.

The observation caught him by surprise—he half laughed, half choked and shook his head again.

‘Is it going to work out?’

He shook his head again—slower that time.

‘Have you stuffed things up so badly I’m going to lose my best friend?’

He shook his head more vehemently. ‘Be there for her.’

Lauren studied him closely. ‘Why can’t you be?’

‘She doesn’t want me to.’

‘Really?’ Lauren frowned. ‘Mya had a thing for you for years. Even when you never saw her.’

Yeah, but the trouble was Mya had got to know him properly now. And though he’d offered her all he could, she’d turned him down. It hurt.

‘Don’t tell me you’re too apathetic to do anything about it, Brad,’ Lauren said softly. ‘Don’t make the same mistake as Mum and Dad.’

Lauren’s words haunted him over the next week. The memory of Mya positively tortured him. Night after night he replayed their last conversation in his head and he dreamed of the too few nights they’d been together.

She’d been furious with him for not opening up. She claimed he maintained as much of a false façade as his parents did. He’d not realised he did that. But she was right. He had opened up to her, though—a couple of times he had, and she’d been there for him in a way that had made his heart melt. So why was it that when he’d wanted to support her, she’d pushed him away? Until now he’d been too hurt to try to figure it out, but now he had to know.

Lauren was right too: he couldn’t be apathetic. He needed courage—Gage’s kind of courage. To run towards what you needed most—the one person you needed most. The one whose love and laughter meant everything.

He went to the bar and pushed forward to the front of the bar section she was serving. Her eyes widened when she saw him and she asked his order ahead of the people he was standing beside. He refused to get a kick out of that—it was probably because she wanted to serve him so he’d leave asap.

He inhaled the sight of her like a man gulping fresh air after a long, deep