Page 31 of The Path to Loving Him
She leans in close, scans me up and down . . . even fucking sniffs me.
“You know what, he does look pukey. Hayes, look at Ryland.”
Hayes Farrow—one of the biggest voices in music and my sister’s boyfriend—walks up to us, loops his arm over Hattie’s shoulders, and looks me up and down. “You know, now that you say it, he does look green.”
Deadpanned, I say, “I expect more from you.”
He shrugs. “Spending too much time with your sister.”
“It’s showing.”
“What’s showing?” Wyatt says, joining us now, wearing a rainbow wig and unicorn horn. Not sure how he became the designated dress-up partner for Mac, but I swear I see him more in costume than anything else now.
“Hattie’s influence on Hayes,” Aubree says as she moves close to Wyatt. I watch him place a kiss on the top of her head, and if I wasn’t so happy for both of my sisters, I’d feel an ounce of jealousy. But how could I when they’ve been through so fucking much? I just want them to be happy.Theydeserve that. And more.
“Oh yeah, he’s a completely different man,” Wyatt replies.
“Says the man in the rainbow wig,” Hayes counters.
Wyatt adjusts his hair. “You know, it takes quite the personality to pull this off. I have no shame. I know neither of you would wear it.”
“I’ve worn that damn thing at least a dozen times this month,” I say to Wyatt.
“Is that why it smells?”
“Fuck . . . off,” I reply. “It doesn’t smell. If anything, it smells like the lavender body spray Hattie gave Mac. She practically soaks the wig in that.”
Wyatt snaps his fingers and points. “That’s what I’ve been smelling. I thought it was some secret flower that I wasn’t seeing. Makes more sense now.”
I stare at him for a few seconds. “You’re supposed to be a bestselling author.”
“Yeah, well, we can’t live on the pedestal we’re propped up on forever. We have our human moments.”
“Clearly.” I let out a sigh. “Hattie, think you can order us some pizza and drinks?—”
“Hold on, why are you looking green? You’re not just going to skip over that.”
“I’m not looking green.”
“It’s four against one,” Aubree says, circling her finger to the group. “So it’s best that you?—”
“Uh, excuse me,” a voice comes from the door.
Together, we all turn toward the door, where Gabby stands in a pair of bike shorts and a crop top, her curves on full display. She has her hair tied up into a long ponytail, and she’s wearing tennis shoes, which leads me to believe that maybe she’s about to go work out.
“Hey . . . Gabby,” I say, trying not to show the four pairs of eyes watching this interaction that I’m the least bit fazed by her.
“Hey. Uh, someone’s car is blocking mine, and I was looking to take off.”
“Oh sure, yeah, uh . . .” I grab the back of my neck. “What does it look like?”
“A Rivian?” she says.
“That’s me,” Hayes says with a lift of his hand. “I’ll move it for you. Sorry about that.”
“Not a problem,” Gabby says, giving Hayes a quick double take. You can see her response written all over her face . . .is that . . . is that Hayes Farrow?
In fact, it is.
