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Her brows pulled together. “Miss what?”

I didn’t have the slightest clue, and that was the problem.

“Whatever made you understand that.”

She stared at our hands, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer. Until she did.

“I can’t miss something I never lost.”

Family Meeting

Vera

I had two problems.

First, the insides of my thighs were sore, courtesy of Hart, who claimed he needed “one more for the road” after we’d gone several rounds. Second, my sorghum refused to cooperate.

I frowned at the numbers on my laptop, then looked through the glass at the sample sitting beneath the lab light as if mean-mugging it would somehow alter its chemical composition.

“Traitor,” I muttered when the results remained the same. My research project had sounded deceptively simple when I initially presented it, until I discovered that millet and sorghum had a personal vendetta against me.

I dragged my notebook closer and recorded the final measurements from the latest batch. I checked the chromatogram on my screen again before adding another note beneath the results.

The sorghum sample fermented better than my previous trial, but it still had more residual carbohydrates than I wanted. If I could improve starch conversion without destroying the flavor profile, then I might actually have something worth presenting to my advisor.

I pushed my safety glasses onto the top of my head and reached for the millet sample, praying for a better outcome. “Don’t get too excited,” I whispered to myself.

I transferred the final measurements into my spreadsheet, documented the conditions, photographed the samples, then meticulously cleaned my station. I was snapping off my gloves when my phone buzzed somewhere inside my tote bag. I ignored it. It was either Hart blowing up my phone or the family group chat getting active. Either way, they could wait. I told myself I’d use this time to focus on my schoolwork, and that’s what I planned to do.

My phone had buzzed four more times by the time I finished labeling and storing the remaining samples. I rolled my eyes and rifled through my tote until I located my phone. As I suspected, it was Hart.

He’d sent me several pictures from his trip: the view from his room, the hotel robe he claimed he was bringing back to Seattle, his room service burger and fries, and finally… the bed.

Sweet ❤️: I keep thinking about your feet touching the headboard.

I closed my eyes and sighed before responding.

Me: You’re 2,000 miles away and still manage to sexually harass me.

Sweet ❤️: Really? That’s what we’re calling it?

Me: If the skate fits.

Sweet ❤️: Sexy and corny.

Me: You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.

I washed my hands, packed my laptop and notebook into my bag, and checked my phone again. I laughed at the string of emojis he sent me, but my laughter was short-lived when I received a calendar notification.

Family Meeting.

I left the lab with my stomach in my throat. Dad hadn’t hinted about what our family meeting was about, and according to Snoh and Danielle, they were just as much in the dark as I was.

I was a wreck, and the last thing I needed was a two-and-a-half-hour drive where I’d spend the time thinking of every worst-case scenario imaginable.

I had nearly reached the bus depot when I noticed a black SUV idling across the street. The windows were tinted, and the damn thing looked like something the Secret Service shuttled the Commander in Chief in.

I came to a screeching halt when I noticed the menace leaning casually against the passenger door with their arms folded over their chest.