Right Hook (Gaslight series) COMPLETE

75| Neat little bow

Alyssa ♔
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I wake up expecting to see Max beside me, but find an empty space instead. Panic sets in, and I'm already convincing myself of the worst when the front door clicks. Max walks into the living holding a bakery bag filled with the scents of warm pastries and freshly brewed coffee.

God, I'm an idiot.

"Hey," he says softly, walking toward me. I get to my feet, still wrapped in blankets, and let him kiss my forehead. "I went and got breakfast. I didn't want to wake you."

"I thought maybe you'd changed your mind about us," I murmur, breathing him in. "Either that, or Justin had kidnapped you."

He nuzzles my neck, and it feels so good that I'm reluctant to let him move. "I'm never changing my mind," he promises, "and I'd like to see that twig try." He breaks away from me, a less than innocent look in his eye. "Get dressed while I set up breakfast. If your mom catches us like this, I'm a dead man."

Even though he's right, I can't help but pout. He grins, tilts my chin with his thumb, and gives me a quick kiss. "Go and put some clothes on for both of our sakes."

"Fine." Still wrapped in the blanket, I pick up the clothes I left in the living room and hurry upstairs to shower. By the time I return to the kitchen, preened and ready for school, Max has set out a breakfast spread fit for the gods: pastries, bacon, hot coffee, and a single red rose in a vase like it's five-star room service.

Walking behind him, I gently kiss the side of his neck. "Are you trying to win over my mom with pastries?"

"That depends," he says, turning around until facing me. "Will it work?"

I laugh at how hopeful he sounds. "My mom hates carbs, but she'd appreciate the gesture." Stomach growing, I sit on a barstool, picking up the coffee and a croissant. After a big bite, I say, "Mmmm." Max circles the table, and my eyes don't leave him as I take another bite. "So delicious. So warm."

His jaw tightens, clearly amused. He stands close, thumb brushing my lips, eyes darkening. He's about to speak when my mom walks in and clears her throat.

Max moves faster than I've seen him, stumbling over the bar stool leg before catching himself. I swivel to look at my mom properly, feeling my stomach knot. She looks a mess, her tousled, eyes weighed down with fatigue, and it hurts to see her like this.

"Morning," I say softly, motioning to the food. "Max got us breakfast."

She offers him a tight smile. "Thanks," she replies, taking a seat at the barstool. She pours herself a hot coffee, her gaze fixed on the rising steam.

The room fills with the sound of forks and quiet sips. "So, you don't have to worry about Justin's dad anymore," I say to break the silence. "Or the money you owe. Whatever happens with Justin, I'm pretty sure he won't throw his dad under the bus, and they'd be stupid to risk trying anything again. I guess the only thing we need to decide now is what happens next."

I hold my breath as my mother looks over. I can see her mentally preparing herself for the conversation, the weight of her decision evident in her gaze. After an eternity, she says, "I think we should sell the house."

I don't say anything for a long time. Even though I knew selling the house was inevitable, I was still unprepared to hear her say it. This house was her dream house, the same one she spent years trying to perfect, and now, she's willing to give it up. "Are you sure?"

She nods as if she's thought this through. "You're moving to college soon," she says softly, fingers clenched around her coffee. The tips have turned so white that I know she must be anxious. "I can't stand to be in this big, empty house. If it's okay with you, I'd like to move out of the Palisades and find a smaller place closer to Stanford."