“Hell yeah, it is!”
Moments later, Penelope and I are tag-teaming a cooler up the steps of the porch. With a final huff, we drop the cooler in front of the door, exchanging triumphant smiles. That’s when I hear the crunch of tires on the gravel again.
Who else is coming?
Out of a midsize blue sedan slides a pair of long, tanned legs. Wearing a long summer maxi dress and with raven-black hair cascading over her shoulders, a woman looks up, meeting my eyes with a smile and a wave. It takes me a moment to place her, and I’m caught staring.
“Hi, Maren. Do you remember me?” Slinging her bag over her shoulder and hiking up her skirt, she walks toward us.
Oh, I remember her. Too vividly, perhaps.
Behind me, I hear the swing of the front door as Hayes steps out of the house, muttering under his breath, “What the fuck . . .”
“Who is that?” Penelope asks, her big, innocent eyes filled with questions.
In record time, I’m able to swallow the lump in my throat and smile back. “Holly, right? It’s been a long time. How are you?” I ask, but what I’m thinking is, What are you doing here?
Hayes, tactless as ever, asks the unspoken question. “What are you doing here, Holly?”
Her matte-red lips twist into a pout. “Don’t be mean, Hayes. I know you missed me. Oh, hey, Wolfie. How are you, handsome?”
Before I can register Wolfie’s presence, Holly is bounding up the steps to wrap him in a gigantic bear hug. Since when is Wolfie friends with Hayes’s ex? Ex is a stretch . . . They were friends with benefits for years.
Out of all the women that passed through the revolving door of his bedroom, Holly was the only regular. She was the only girl Hayes ever had a consistent fling with, something that lasted years, not weeks or months like all the others.
Is it too late to go back to the city?
“Hey, Holly,” Wolfie grumbles in his typical way, patting her on the back. That’s his cue to say, I’m done with this hug, thank you.
I almost want to laugh, but I have too many questions. Did Hayes invite her? Is she staying for the whole weekend? Where is she going to sleep?
“Wolfie and I were just about to clean the grill. If you’ll excuse us,” Hayes says tersely, looking annoyed.
If he didn’t know Holly was coming . . . then who invited her?
Hayes plants a hand on the back of Wolfie’s neck, steering him around the side of the house and out of sight. Penelope’s brows furrow with confusion, but Holly’s smile hasn’t budged. It’s more of a smirk, really. She clearly thinks she’s won something, or she will win something—or someone—by being here.
My stomach twists into a painful knot. It’s already hard enough being around Hayes, but to have to watch his fuck-buddy stake her claim and paw all over him this weekend will be freaking torture.
“Would you like to come inside?” I hear myself asking, one hand outstretched in an offer to take her bag. What am I, a butler? “I can give you a quick tour.”
“Thanks, but I’ve been here plenty of times before,” she says with a wink before slipping between Penelope and me and disappearing into the house.
My heart hammers in my ears as mild frustration threatens to transform into a full-on rage. Penelope must sense my discomfort because she reaches out and gives my hand a comforting squeeze before she follows Holly inside.
I’m not ready to go in, not with Holly there. Instead, I tiptoe around the side of the house until I can hear the deep voices of Hayes and Wolfie.
“Are you fucking kidding me, man? How could you invite her?”
A surge of relief passes through me. Hayes isn’t happy that Holly is here. He’s pissed.
“Look, she reached out to me. She made it sound like you two were seeing each other again.”
“What the hell? We’re not.” Hayes’s tone is biting, while my brother sounds more apologetic.
“Fuck, man. I’m sorry. I would have asked you, but you’d sworn off women, and I didn’t want to start a whole damn intervention.”
Wolfie really does sound sorry. He knows he messed up.
“Fuck, it’s okay, man. We’ll figure it out.” Hayes heaves out a sigh, the anger in his voice deflating into tired resignation.
Maybe it’s the problem-solver in me, but I want to help. I knock softly on the side of the house as I step into view, trying not to startle anyone.
Hayes’s eyes snap to mine, a flurry of fiery emotion suddenly turning to ice. “What’s up, Mare?”
“Is there anything I can do? I overheard that Holly . . . was a surprise.”
Hayes laughs without humor, rubbing his forehead. “Yeah, no shit,” he mumbles, turning his back to me.
Why won’t he look at me?
“Would you mind rooming with her? That would help a lot,” my brother asks, placing a hand on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
My throat tightens. I wasn’t expecting that. Rooming with Holly will be . . . a challenge. But if I can make this awkward tension any easier on Hayes, I will. Also, if I can keep her out of Hayes’s bedroom—all the better, right?
“Sure thing.” I smile, but it probably doesn’t reach my eyes.
Hayes mutters something under his breath and stalks off.
A few minutes later, we have the rooming situation finalized.
Penelope and Scarlett will take the queen bed in the downstairs bedroom, and I’ll take the bunk-bed situation with Holly. Wolfie will room with Connor in the double-twin room, since they already have that roommate dynamic. Caleb will take the couch, and Hayes will sleep in his own room.
Which just so happens to share a hallway with my sleeping arrangement.
I make the decision to avoid fantasizing about any late-night visits from a man who clearly will never see me as more than his best friend’s little sister. If anything’s going to happen tonight, it’ll be between Holly and Hayes, a thought that stings like burning-hot metal slicing into my skin.
Inside, Wolfie and
