I found myself nodding, but as my gaze drifted to where Avery and my sister had disappeared from, I felt knots of unease twist in my stomach. I knew I wasn’t the only one with secrets.
I was ten seconds from grabbing my sister’s cell phone and throwing it across the room during Thanksgiving dinner. I dumped another mound of yams on my plate. “Who do you keep texting?”
Teresa smirked. “That’s none of your business.”
I arched a brow. “I’m your brother, it’s my business. Mom . . .” I paused, looking across the table. “You should tell your daughter it’s rude to text at the table.”
Mom sent me a dry look. “It’s not hurting anyone.”
Well, that was no help. I nudged Shortcake with my knee, and not for the first time. “It’s hurting my soul,” I murmured to her.
Avery rolled her eyes as she knocked my leg back.
“That’s sad.” Teresa dropped the phone in her lap. “So, Avery, how did you end up in West Virginia?”
She whipped her spoon through the mashed potatoes. “I wanted to go someplace different. My family is originally from Ohio, so West Virginia seemed like a good place to go.”
“I have to be honest, I would’ve picked New York or Florida or Virginia or Maryland or—” She looked down when her phone chirped and grabbed her cell.
My eyes narrowed as I knocked Avery’s knee. Curious as to who my sister could be chatting with, I acted like I was grabbing for turkey, but went for the phone instead.
“Hey!” Teresa shouted. “Give it back!”
Avoiding her grabby hands, I leaned over into Avery as my gaze flicked to the screen. Murphy? What the fuck? “Who’s Murphy?”
“It’s none of your business! God.” Teresa grabbed for the cell. “Give me back my phone.”
“I’ll give it back when you tell me who Murphy is? A boyfriend?”
The red cheeks were enough of an answer. Granted, I didn’t expect my sister to stay single forever, but she hadn’t been serious since that dickhead.
She slammed her back into her seat, folding her arms. “Mom.”
“Cam, give her back the phone,” she ordered, and when I didn’t budge, her smile tightened in the way that was rare for her. “We’ve met Murphy. He’s a really good boy.”
I was pretty sure that was what everyone had said about the dickhead.
“He’s really nice and I like him,” Teresa said quietly.
I snorted. “That’s not a ringing—”
“He’s not Jeremy,” Dad cut in. “Give her back the phone.”
Avery had been staring at her plate and when her hand landed on my upper thigh, I suddenly wasn’t thinking about Jeremy the Dickhead or Teresa’s phone.
Her hand was on my thigh, so close to where I wanted it to be, and in that moment, call me what you want, I didn’t give a fuck that it was Thanksgiving dinner. If she just slid her hand up a—
Avery snatched the cell phone from my hands.
Son of a bitch. “Hey, that was so not fair.”
She grinned at me as she stretched around me, handing the phone back to Teresa. “Sorry.”
“Thank you,” she said, smiling at Shortcake like she was the messiah of cell phones.