“Hi, I’m here, I’m here.” Chloe rushes into the room with freshly fucked hair and clothes that look like she just threw on in a haste to help put out whatever fire is happening here. She plops down next to Whitney and puts a bottle of tequila in front of her. “We are so getting drunk.” She looks at Kevin. “Uncle Kev, what are you doing here? A girl breaks up with her fiancé, she doesn’t need her father right now. She needs me.” She puts a hand under her chin and smiles.

“I didn’t even know she was here. I came over to hang out with him,” Kevin says, pointing at me. “I still don’t know why you came here in the first place. You could have come home.” He looks at Whitney with a face of concern but also a little bit of skepticism.

“You’ve been here five minutes and have already asked me the same question more than once,” Whitney responds.

“She wanted space and she knew I’d meet her here.” Chloe interrupts before grabbing the tequila and pulling Whitney off the couch. “We’re going to go talk,” she says, and I try not to follow her with my eyes out of the room. Trey grabs one of Kevin’s beers, turning the attention to him and away from the tension flowing off of me.

“Looks like I’ll be here a while.” He grabs the remote and puts on the ESPN channel and I’m glad that seems to catch Kevin’s attention pretty quickly.

For now.

I’ve looked at my phone no less than a hundred times in the last hour trying to wait enough time before I get up to do something that would allow me to check on Whitney. Fuck this.

“I’m going to take a leak.” I get up and I don’t miss the look Trey gives me. I’ve known Trey his entire life so I know how to read what he’s saying in the fleeting look he gives me before turning back to the television.

Do not be fucking reckless.

I don’t respond to the look before I make my way up the stairs and hear giggling coming from my guest room. I hover outside of the door for a moment but I think they’ve actually managed to get a little tipsy in the last hour because all I hear is giggling. I enter the room and Whitney’s eyes widen over the shot glass she has hovering near her lips.

“JP!” She cheers and some of the liquid sloshes over the side of the glass.

“Oops.” She sets the shot down on the floor. “I spilled. Sorry.” She gets up and I think it must have been the first time she’s stood up because she stumbles slightly before she’s in my arms.