I’d heard car doors outside, and conversation, but I just assumed the guys were back. Jordan texted saying they wouldn’t get home Friday night after all. So then it was Saturday morning. We were now well past seven in the evening. I was supposed to be at Aspen’s in an hour.

So that was why I asked, “Jordan and Zellman are finally home?”

Cross didn’t respond, just watched me a second. “Something like that.”

Unease trickled through me, but I went.

Cross led the way.

I came behind and paused halfway because Jordan wasn’t alone. Zellman wasn’t alone either.

Tabatha stood just inside the door, two bags on the floor next to her, and she was watching me, her eyes large and sad.

She swallowed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Heya, Bren.”

“You’re back?”

She nodded, glancing to Jordan.

He was standing beside the couch, his hands in his pockets and a whole brooding look on his face. His hair was messed up. He didn’t look like he cared. His eyes were exasperated, and he flicked them to me. “She’s staying for a few days.”

I raised my eyebrows.

Cross finished going down the stairs and moved toward the kitchen. “You want something to drink, Tabatha?”

“Water?”

Cross nodded.

“Thank you.” But she was looking back at me, and still biting down on her lip. “Is it okay if I’m here? I mean,” she linked her fingers together, her hands wringing, “my sisters have been amazing, but I’m not ready. I go back there and Jessinda,” she cut off, a short and dry laugh coming from her. “You don’t know Jessinda. She’ll want to know everything, and I’ve gotten enough texts from her to know she found out some things and yeah. She won’t stop till she crucifies Tim.”

Tim.

I forgot that guy had a first name.

That asshole Harper just seemed the most fitting way to address him.

I kept my thoughts to myself, looking at Jordan, and gave him a look look. His mouth flattened and his eyes narrowed, but he knew what I was asking. Had Jessinda spilled the beans like she was told?

He coughed, his voice coming out as if he were being force-fed. “Uh. About Jessinda—” He stopped, his gaze steady on Tabatha as his Adam’s apple moved up and down in a swallow.

Tabatha shook her head. “Don’t. I know.”

I was effectively rocked back on my heels, though I didn’t actually move. I felt the momentum. It was a fast swing from my blind spot as Tabatha continued, surprising me even more, “Jessy called, told me that she got drunk and Jordan was there, and Jordan’s hot, and yeah.” She cast him another look, the pain that flared was so vivid, I felt punched by it again. “I mean, I deserved it. I know what I did—”

“Stop.”