Chapter Seven

Hailey's Pov 

I tried not to let the shock show on my face, but I knew he caught it. The smug little grin on his lips said it all.

What a jerk.

Mom and Dad thought this would be a great way for us to “bond.”

Seriously? How am I supposed to bond with someone who acts like I’m nothing and looks at me like I ruined his day just by breathing?

You know what?

Forget it. This mission is over. Abort.

Mayday. We’re crashing.

I narrowed my eyes, pretending his words didn’t bother me. With a loud huff, I spun on my heel and turned away.

Sure, he had a gorgeous face and a body that could make people stare, but wow—his personality was the worst.

I don’t like him.

Well… okay, maybe a tiny part of me does.

The tiny part somewhere between my thighs.

But I swear, the logical side of my brain agrees with me. Probably. I think.

Trying to walk out of his room without tripping over nothing was harder than expected—especially with his eyes burning into my back the whole time.

Seriously, could he not stare while I made my dramatic exit?

I huffed again and stomped harder on the wooden floor. Maybe the sound would annoy him the way everything about him annoyed me.

“Close the door on your way out,” he said, voice deep and commanding. It made my teeth clench. Why did he have to sound so confident?

I snorted.

Yeah, no. I wasn’t doing what he said.

Instead, I marched straight to Mom and Dad’s room.

“Close the door on your way out,” I muttered in a mocking voice, shouldering their door open like it had insulted me too.

"Okay, I really did try, I swear," I muttered while walking over to their giant, king-size bed—the one I’ve always been secretly jealous of. It was ridiculously soft and cozy. I flopped onto it and lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling.

Mom and Dad came out of the walk-in closet, both giving me that look—curious, maybe a little concerned. I avoided their eyes.

"What did he say to you, Hailey?" Mom asked gently as she sat down beside me.

"Hey!" Dad called from across the room, eyeing the half-packed suitcase. "Are you planning to leave the rest of the packing for me?"

"I'm tired, baby. Can you do it for me, please?" Mom sighed, giving him that classic pouty face that always worked like magic on him.

Dad sighed, shaking his head with a smile. "Fine. But you owe me."

"Tonight," she whispered with a flirty grin.

I groaned under my breath. "Gross."

Mom playfully smacked my shoulder.

"Ow, Mom!" I whined, pretending it actually hurt. Of course, it didn’t—I was just being overly dramatic again.

She rolled her eyes, laughing softly.

"I swear, you're just as dramatic as your father."

"Heard that!" Dad shouted from the closet.

"Love you, honey!" Mom called back, giggling quietly.

She turned to me again and let out a breath.

"Okay, now seriously. What did he say?"

I groaned, rolled my eyes, and turned to face her.

"Can we just ship him off somewhere? He’s a total jerk. An absolute pain."

She let out a deep sigh, her eyes clouding with a sadness that seemed to fill the room.

 "I know he comes off as cold and distant, but we should try to give him a chance before treating him like some outcast."

She turned onto her back, gazing up at the ceiling.

 "His eyes... they remind me so much of his mother. That same blue, but his are even more unique. Something about them is rare."

"You never really talked about Georgia before," I said gently. "What happened between you two?"

Mom took another long breath.

 "Georgia and I were always different. She was the carefree, outspoken one. I was the calm, quiet type. Eventually, that difference created a space between us we never filled. Then she did something I couldn’t forgive—at least, not until I watched them lower her into the ground. That’s when I finally let it go."

 Her voice cracked, and a few silent tears slid down her face, disappearing into her hair.

My chest ached hearing her like this. I reached out and held her hand, squeezing it until she looked at me.

 "I’m sorry, Mom," I whispered.

"I just feel like I owe her this. I can’t turn my back on her… or Carmelo. I just—"

 Her voice wavered again, and I held her hand tighter.

"—need to give him a chance," I finished softly.

She gave a small smile and nodded.

"I'm hungry," Jayson suddenly announced, doing his best Hulk impression.

I rolled my eyes.

 "Aren’t you always?"

With a small laugh, I pulled out a chair to sit, but Mom stopped me.

"Hey, can you go get Carmelo for dinner? Tell him it’s ready," she said, placing a big, fresh bowl of salad in the middle of the dining table.

"He hasn’t left that room since he arrived," she added quietly, a tone of sadness in her voice.

My hand tightened around the back of the chair so hard I was sure I felt the wood crack.

"You’re joking, right?" I asked flatly, my voice dry as sand.

Please, please let her be kidding. Did she forget how horribly that went earlier? That mission failed big time. I wasn’t about to go on round two—not when there was mashed potato calling my name.

Mashed potato over moody boys. Every time.

Mom glanced up from the salad bowl and raised a brow.

"No, I’m not joking. Just go call him down for dinner, Hailey. He’s not going to eat you."

Why would she say it like that?

Great. Now there were all kinds of other images in my head—none of them food-related.

"Why can’t Jayson do it!?" I groaned, jabbing a finger in his direction. He was already halfway through his plate. That sneaky little toad had started eating before me.

Lifting his head, he stuck out his tongue.

"Because I don’t want to, sissy."

That little—

"Hailey," Mom sighed, then turned to Dad, who was in the middle of setting a tray of baked chicken on the table. He froze when she called his name.

"Hudson."

Dad’s eyes darted to hers with a look of pure hesitation.

"Am I in trouble?" he asked, wincing. He knew what it meant when she used his full name—it usually spelled bad news. But that didn’t happen often.

"No, baby," she said with a sigh.

"Just tell Hailey to go get Carmelo for dinner."

“Oh,” Dad muttered with relief, setting the tray down on the table. He turned to me with a look that begged for cooperation.

“Just tell him dinner’s ready, Hailey. I promise his tattoos won’t bite,” he said with a teasing smile.

I let out a long, annoyed sigh.

It wasn’t the tattoos that freaked me out. It was the guy wearing them.

“But—” I began, but stopped myself. At this point, what was the use?

“Hailey, give him a chance… remember?” Mom whispered gently, her voice almost pleading.

I had given him a chance. And he told me to leave his room like I was nothing.

Still, I sighed in surrender. “Fine.”

All I had to do was tell him dinner was ready. That was it. He hadn’t eaten all day, so the mention of food should be enough to get him downstairs. Easy.

Right?

Wrong.

I reached his door, didn’t think, and pushed it open without knocking.

Instant regret.

Carmelo turned around just in time for me to get a full, unobstructed view of him—completely bare. My eyes dropped for a split second before I caught sight of something that sent every cell in my body into full-on panic.

His… everything. Just swinging there.

A hot flush raced up my cheeks as I gasped.

I spun around and slammed the door shut so fast it shook the frame.

“Dinner’s ready!” I shouted, eyes wide as saucers, and ran down the stairs like the house was on fire.