: Chapter 33

Glitter-festooned stalks of corn crisscross under the sconces at the sides of the Bankses’ arched front door as Avery pulls to a stop in front of her parents’ house. And as I hop out of the passenger’s side door, the gift I found in our building’s mailroom when we were leaving burns a hole from its spot inside my purse.

I want to open it, am damn near desperate to see what’s inside, but I’m also fearful over the hope that’s been blooming in my chest ever since I pulled it out of our mailbox.

It’s officially Thanksgiving, and from the décor that greets us on the outside of the Bankses’ house, I know Diane has ensured this year’s day of thanks is a true celebration. Just like she always does.

Avery runs ahead of me, chattering on the phone to one of her many suitors, and shoves through the front door without knocking. My entrance is much more mindful as I follow her at a walk, closing the door behind us.

The Bankses’ housekeeper Linda waits just inside the door, accepting Avery’s Prada leather jacket and matching handbag as she hands them to her and waits patiently for mine. But I clutch my purse to my hip with a smile.

“That’s okay, Linda. I’m going to hold on to mine.”

“Very well.”

Avery heads straight for the kitchen and I follow dutifully, but after she crosses the threshold to the entrance, a hand shoots out from the hall and yanks me to the side. I almost scream, but Beau covers my mouth and drags me to the first open door.

He shuts it behind us, and I back up against the sink of the half bath, breathing hard.

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly, his voice a rushed whisper. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but I wanted to kiss you hello.”

My body melts as he presses himself to me, forging our lips in a delicate battle for supremacy. He tastes delicious as usual, and already, he’s got me feeling better.

The holidays always hit hard with absent parents, and my mood hasn’t been the best. But there’s a reason I love the Bankses as a whole, and there’s a reason I’ve loved Beau for as long as I have—they’re the best kind of people and all the family I never had but always wanted.

“Meet you out there,” Beau whispers against my lips, pulling me to him and giving my ass one final squeeze before hurrying out the door. He closes it behind himself, and I take a moment to get myself together, washing the smudged lipstick off my face and fluffing at my hair.

When I’m satisfied my appearance passes for normal, I exit the bathroom and head down to the kitchen.

Diane and Neil stand by the fridge filling cups with their special Thanksgiving punch, and a catering staff works to finalize the touches on the spread of the meal. Beau and Avery are both sitting on the living room couch with their feet up, bickering about what to put on the TV.

I opt for stopping to see my pseudo-parents first. Neil smiles as soon as he sees me approaching, putting down the pitcher of punch and opening his arms for me to walk inside. I savor the feel of his warm hug, and I imagine, just for a moment, what it must be like to be born with parents like them.

“Happy Thanksgiving, sweetie,” he says, kissing the top of my head right in the center of my hair.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” I reply, squeezing him extra tight before pulling away. Diane is waiting for her turn too, and I scoot into her arms as she wraps them around me. She smells of Gardenia by Chanel, but not the one you can purchase in stores. It’s their Parfum Grand Extrait version, a highly coveted scent I know goes for almost twenty thousand dollars.

My parents got me my first bottle of it when I was five years old, and if I’d known I was going to associate it with the woman who’s been more of a mother to me than anyone else in my life, I probably would have kept it around. At the time, it was just more stuff.

“Dinner should be ready soon, Junebug. Are you hungry?” Diane asks as we pull away from our hug.

“Enough to consider cannibalism.”

Both she and Neil laugh, and Avery shouts from the living room, “Eat Beau first!”

I can barely keep myself from turning the color of a tomato when Beau replies, “Fine by me,” and tosses a look of pure debauchery toward me over his shoulder.

I hold my breath, waiting for anyone to question Beau’s devious words, but everyone just brushes it off as normal. Probably because there’re only two people in this house who are aware of the secret relationship Beau and I have been engaging in for the past month.

Everyone else is still clueless. But that’s not by their choice. It’s by yours.

Guilt and shame and a whole bunch of other emotions I don’t want to feel right now stab at my gut, but I swallow hard against them and force a smile to my lips when Diane starts laughing over the squabbling about what to watch on the television that comes from Beau and Avery in the living room.

“These kids, June,” she says with an amused shake of her head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with them if they can’t stop bickering before we sit down to eat.”

“I’ll go sort them out.”

She leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. “Thanks, hun.”

I cross the open space to the living room and plop down on one of the chairs that’s perpendicular to the couch, avoiding Beau’s eyes. I know if I meet them, they’ll be filled with sex and scandal and all sorts of trouble.

“What the hell took you so long to get in here?” Avery asks, wrestling for the remote with one hand while Beau holds it with one of his.

“I had to pee,” I lie easily, internally sighing at how naturally being deceitful has started to become. I’m starting to fear that if I don’t set myself free with the truth soon, I’m not going to know who I am anymore.

“Again? You just went before we left the condo. Do you have a UTI?” She glances back to her parents, quieting her voice just slightly. “You know if you’re having sex with someone, you should always pee right after you’re done, right?”

“I don’t have a UTI, Avery.” I sigh, but I don’t mention that I pee right after every time her brother and I bang.

“Irritable bowel?” she questions, and Beau laughs out loud.

I don’t hesitate to snag a pillow from the chair beside mine and lodge it at his head.

He returns the favor, and before we know it, the three of us are in a full-blown pillow fight. Which, if you’ve seen the Bankses’ big-ass, cozy sectional, you’d know there’s a hell of a lot of pillow ammunition.

“I thought you were going to calm things down, June!” Diane shouts from the kitchen. I blow my hair out of my face, breathing hard, and Beau pulls me into a headlock while Avery wrestles to free me.

It’s just like old times—except, it isn’t.

“Come on, you hooligans!” Neil calls. “Come eat before you destroy my house.”

Beau holds on to me but loosens his arm on my neck, pulling my back to his front instead. Avery tosses her pillow down and heads for the dining room table, and I work to even my breathing as Beau whispers directly into the shell of my ear.

“I can’t fucking wait to wrestle you later. Though, I’m going to make damn sure we’re wearing a lot fewer clothes.”

“Beau,” I breathe back, my chest tightening around how long we’re taking to join everyone.

But he’s cool, calm, and collected, offering a little smirk in my direction and a secret squeeze of my ass with his hand. “Sit beside me, Juni.”

He lets go of me, and I rush to the dining room, taking a seat on the side of the table with two empty chairs. Avery laughs at me as I sit down across from her, eating a piece of asparagus like it’s a French fry.

“Your hair’s a mess.”

I try to brush it out of my face, but before Beau sits down, he reaches in from behind me and pulls the full length of it behind my back. My eyes cut up to him quickly and then to Diane, Avery, and Neil, but they’re all preoccupied by their own thing. He winks.

One of the catering staff puts a plate full of food in front of me, and I smile up gratefully as Beau takes the seat beside mine, immediately reaching out and touching my thigh under the tablecloth.

My nerves stand on end, sizzling with the mix of guilt and excitement. I never thought I’d be the type of woman to enjoy clandestine sneaking and hidden touches. And I definitely don’t know what it says about me or how to make sense of why it feels so damn electrifying.

But it wouldn’t take a genius to deduce why it’s got me all flustered. I’ve been into Beau since the moment I was old enough to notice boys in the first place. This isn’t some extramarital affair—this is my ultimate fantasy come to life.

“How’s your presentation for Midnight coming, Beau?” Neil asks, cutting a piece of turkey with his gold-bladed knife and sticking it in his mouth.

Beau clears his throat, his voice changing noticeably from the playful boy in the pillow fight to a businessman with his sights set on success. “It’s going well. We’ve had some holdups on the branding, but Laura told me they’ll have a finalized concept for the logo next week and three potential styles for the app design the week after that.”

“And your pitch? What about that? I assume you’re going for—”

“Neil,” Diane says on a groan, cutting her asparagus and shaking a piece of it toward him on the tip of her fork. “Do you think we could save this absolutely riveting shoptalk for another time?”

“Yeah,” Avery complains. “I’m not supposed to fall into a turkey coma until after the meal.”

“Sorry,” Neil apologizes on a chuckle. “Beau and I can talk later.”

Diane nods, turning to me. “Where are your mom and dad these days, June?” Her voice is soft, compassion for what she already knows the answer will be in her tone.

I shrug. “Last I heard from her, she was headed to Bali. Something about the spiritually healing power of the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary and a hike on a volcano. Nothing like some monkeys and lava to help you find God, amirite?”

Beau snorts, but I don’t dare glance toward him. I feel too raw to do it without exposing everything I’m feeling for him and then some.

“And my dad and Lola are in Paris, I guess. At least, that’s what the postmark said on his latest gift.”

His latest gift that still sits in my purse.

“Is that why you’ve been clutching your purse like it’s got the jaguar’s eye from Jumanji in it?” Avery asks, her tone unnecessarily judgmental.

I don’t have anything to say to that; the sting of her words and the sad reality they’re referring to are too much for my pathetic heart. I look down at my small clutch, still slung over my shoulder, and drop it to the floor.

Avery, in a rare moment of self-awareness, apologizes. “Sorry, June. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I shake my head, and Beau’s hand reaches out to my leg again under the table, squeezing my thigh gently.

I feel itchy all over and like I’m going to come out of my skin. I take two deep breaths, but when they don’t do anything, I shove my chair back and stand, grabbing my purse from the floor once again. “Excuse me.”

Walking quickly, I make my way back to the half bathroom again, shutting the door behind me and leaning into the sink. I set my purse on the marble surface and stare at it for a long moment before prying it open. My heart beats fast beneath my ribs as I rip off the packaging and tear into it, uncovering a Rolex box with a small note card on top.

I close my eyes briefly and turn over the card in my hand.

“One, two, three,” I whisper before opening my eyes to read it.

The scribbles are an immediate disappointment, my dad’s assistant’s handwriting so recognizable at this point, I know it almost better than my own.

I don’t know why I got my hopes up—what possessed me to think that this time might be different. I don’t know why I even fucking care. Like, it’s pretty damn clear my parents don’t give a shit about me. And even though things like Thanksgiving and Christmas and my birthday might be important to me, I’m not important to them.

I have to stop expecting them to change. I’m twenty-three years old, for fuck’s sake. How long am I going to keep hoping that one day they’ll both wake up and realize they actually love me and want to be a part of my life?

A single tear runs down my cheek, and I wipe at it furiously, pulling at the now-mottled red skin of my face. The door cracks open gently, and I swallow as another wave of emotion hits me square in the chest.

I’m expecting Avery or Diane. The sight of Beau, though—it breaks me.

“Shh,” he comforts as wetness coats my cheeks and my breathing stutters. He pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head in the same way he’s done more than once over the years.

“I just don’t understand,” I murmur into his chest, the feel of his racing heart beating against my eardrum. “Why did they have me if they don’t want anything to do with me? It’s not like they needed the tax deduction.”

“I don’t know, June. I don’t know at all. But I know you don’t deserve this.”

The door cracks open again, and this time, Avery pokes her head in. I cry harder, knowing how messed up everything is these days, and Beau shifts me into her arms and steps away.

Guilt eats at me for wanting to be back in his embrace, for wishing Avery wouldn’t have come in here, and for hiding all this shit in the first place.

I wonder what things would be like if I’d ever bothered to share with Avery just how much I’ve always liked her brother from the start. Would she have encouraged it? Or would what’s happening now be even worse and tangled up in more webs of lies?

I hug Avery tighter and hope. Hope for a smooth resolution. Hope for our friendship and a relationship with Beau all at once.

Hope I haven’t ruined the only real family I’ve ever known for good.