“You can come,” Reese speaks into the silence.

Jude grins slowly, his eyes never leaving Annabel, who huffs in annoyance.

“You can all come. Granny always cooks enough food to get the whole county full as a tick.”

“Shotgun!” Jude yells, standing up and making for the door. “Beast, you coming?”

Beast lumbers after Jude, tucking the notebook into his jacket.

“Reese has shotgun since it’s her house we’re going to.” Annabel follows them out the door.

“Did you want to come along?” Reese asks, her expression neutral.

I’m half starved. I want to go with them. But at the same time, I don’t know if spending more time with Reese is a good idea.

She’s . . . I don’t know. I don’t know how to sort out the emotions pressing at me. I remember waking up with her in my arms, soft, sweet. How she helped me with the pig. How she could have gone off about what a bitch Abby was to her, but held it back.

I’m not ready to jump into anything new. And Reese and I are competing. There are a million reasons this is the worst idea ever, and yet the little head below my waist is panting like a shaggy dog in a July heat wave.

“No. I’m good.” My stomach growls and I whirl away, hoping she can’t hear it even though to me it sounds like a rumble from the earth itself.

“Okay. See you later.”

I nod, ignoring the twinge of disappointment when the front door slams shut.

What did I want, for her to insist that I come along?

Maybe I sort of did.

I watch from the kitchen window while they try and sort themselves inside Annabel’s car, an old two-door Honda Civic hand-me-down from Momma. Not a large vehicle by any means, and that fact is proven as Beast tries to tuck his large frame into the miniscule back seat.

I chuckle as Jude attempts to climb in through the back window. Annabel is yelling at both of them, her face turning red while her mouth flaps.

Reese stands to the side, watching and laughing.

My gaze is drawn to her, her smile, the light in her eyes, and then I notice movement behind her, down the street.

A lone figure walks toward the house, arms wrapped around herself, blonde hair, a pink sweater that I instantly recognize.

Abby. Heading this way.

Oh, hell no.

Forgetting all my worries about the swiftly growing attraction to Reese, I hurry out the door.

“Wait, I’m coming.” I lock the door behind me.

“Of course you are.” Jude’s finally levered himself into the back seat next to Beast.

“There’s no room,” Annabel says. “Drive your own car.”

“But it’s parked two blocks over.” All the street spots were taken when I got home. I glance down the road. Abby’s getting closer. “And it’s full of boxes.”

“You can sit on Beast’s lap,” Jude suggests.

“You sit on his lap,” I say.