The Reality of Everything - Rebecca Yarros Page 0,74

good-bye and ran toward the garage.

Claire scanned me from head to toe, her eyes lingering on my feet that hadn’t seen a pedicure since week one of the reward system. “Aren’t you just the cutest neighbor ever when you’re not losing your mind and slamming doors over and over?”

My stomach fell out of my body.

“Claire!” Jackson snapped a warning and stepped toward me.

“What?” She gave him a genuine smile. “I was just admiring Finley’s friend and her exceptionally well-projected voice. Sound really does carry, you know.” She motioned between our two houses.

She’d heard my entire breakdown? Wait…she’d been in Jackson’s house while we were out on a date? My heart joined my stomach.

“Stop,” he growled. “And you damn well know that Morgan isn’t just Finley’s friend. She’s…she’s more than a friend to me.” His hand moved to the small of my back.

Well if that wasn’t awkward. What the hell were we, anyway? And if Claire knew what we…were or were not, what did that mean they were? Was this just a visit? Was she staying with him? Were they sleeping together fifty feet away from my house?

It was too much. This was too much.

“Right.” Claire offered me a sugar-sweet smile. “Well, if you’re ready?”

“I’ll be there in a second. Why don’t you get Fin buckled?” He nodded toward the garage.

“I can wait,” she replied.

I was going to die right here, right now. Had she seen me kiss Jackson? Was she kissing Jackson? It’s not like we were exclusive since we weren’t…well, anything.

“Claire.” It was a clear warning.

She pouted. “Fine. I’ll go. Just hurry up. You were the one who told me her pediatrician doesn’t like it when we’re late, and I want to make a good impression now that I’m home.” Her gaze slid toward me and sharpened. “For good.”

I was going to be sick.

She wiggled her fingers in a little wave and sauntered off for the car, swinging her hips expertly.

“Morgan—”

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?” I backed away from him.

“Yes. I just didn’t have time—” His eyes were wide and panicked.

“Because I was busy kissing you. Again.” I shook my head. “How stupid can I possibly be?”

“You’re not!” He reached for me, but I retreated again. “Look, she’s home, but that doesn’t change anything between us.”

“Doesn’t change anything?” I challenged. “Jackson, that’s the mother of your child. All you’ve ever wanted was for her to come home, and now she’s here!”

“Claire isn’t living with me. She’s living with her mom. We’re not together. She’s just here because Fin has an appointment for her kindergarten shots. Nothing changes between you and me, Morgan. Nothing.” The plea in his eyes nearly undid me.

“Jax! We have to get going!” Claire shouted from the driveway.

Everything this man wanted was wrapped up in that gorgeous little package, from her perfect fucking hair to her designer clothes. She was Finley’s mama. She was his chance at the happily ever after he’d waited for since the day she left.

It was just too much. Too complicated. Too…oh, screw this.

“Morgan, we’ll talk later, I promise.” Jackson raked his hand over his hair.

I pushed past the pain and forced a smile. “Your family is waiting for you, Jackson.”

Then I walked away, keeping my composure as I made my way up my steps.

“Morgan, please!”

“Jax!” Mercy, that woman’s voice was loud, but I guess mine was, too.

“I’m at my emotional capacity for the day. Now go,” I told him, because he was still standing there, staring up at me with so much angst in those eyes that I couldn’t stand it. I dropped the pretense of dignity and flat-out ran the rest of the way, slamming my front door once I was through it.

“Everything okay?” Sam asked, her eyes widening as she took in my expression.

“I found another thing about Jackson that I don’t like.” It was the biggest understatement of my life. I was so sick of this shit. What was so wrong with me that I couldn’t have just a glimmer of happiness? Was that too much to ask? Or at least a little less pain? Less pain—God, that sounded good. Numb sounded even better. Yep, that was the goal for the night.

“Oh no.” She sighed.

“Call Mia. We’re going out.”

Chapter Thirteen

Jackson

“Two Finley-less weekends in a row?” Sawyer questioned as the bartender handed him a draft.

“She’s with Claire.” I sipped on ice water and stared up at the ball game playing on the flat screen above the bar.

Garrett’s eyebrows shot up on the other side of me,