I didn’t want that to end.
“You want to tell me what happened back there?” Chase asked as soon as we hibernated to the family room. Lexi and Travis were allotted dish duty. Suckers.
I curled onto the cushy couch, and annoyance flashed in my eyes. “Which part? Maybe the fact that everyone in this house knows we had sex.”
He picked up my outstretched legs, taking a seat and draping my legs over his lap. “Well, if they didn’t, they do now thanks to your shouting.”
I exhaled. “I was thinking about my mom.”
He edged closer, and my body relaxed. “You’ve got to be a little more specific, Angel. Unfortunately this kickass bond doesn’t allow me to read your mind. A shame.”
“Thank God.” But it did allow him to quiet my rising irritation, feeling the warmth of his emotions override mine. I wasn’t sure how fair that was. He was much better at this bond jazz than I was.
“I would love to know what goes on in that pretty head of yours.”
A laugh bubbled up and out. “I bet you would.”
“My guess is that 99% of your thoughts are about me.”
I snorted. “You wish. Is that how much you think of me?”
“We’re getting way off topic here. We were talking about your mom, not what goes on inside my fabulous head.”
I should have known that the look on his handsome face meant trouble. Before I could defend my rainbow-covered feet, he was holding my legs captive and tickling them. I laughed again, longer and fuller as I squirmed under his hold, my legs kicking to be free. Openmouthed, my head fell back and he tugged me onto his lap. All that laughter turned to silence as I stared into turbulent eyes of melting honey.
“What’s really wrong, Angel?” he asked, all teasing aside.
I rested my head on his shoulder. “It just hit me at breakfast that we have to tell my mom, and it made me sad.”
His chin came to rest on top of my head. “Understandable. We’ve spent a lot of energy protecting her from finding out the truth, keeping her safe. All things come to an end.”
“I know. I just wish we had more time.”
Eyes grey as smoke. “There never is enough time.”
I disliked how bleak and ominous that statement sounded.
***
“Mom!” I yelled, letting the door slam closed behind me. I dumped my bag in the corner and walked toward the kitchen. “Mom, I’m home.”
Today was the first day back in our house, and Mom was MIA. It had been three weeks since the fire, and tonight we were supposed to have a celebratory dinner—just the two of us. Nothing like getting stood up by your own mom. Where the heck was she?
I grabbed a freshly baked biscotti from the basket and started to brew a cup of tea in one of those fancy single-cup coffee makers. It was so cold outside my bones ached. I didn’t think winter was ever going to end, and cabin fever was starting to set in.
Dunking my almond biscuit-like in my piping hot tea, I couldn’t help but notice how deadly silent it was—ridiculously so. How had I endured before? This old house was too big for two people. Circling my mushy biscotti in the swirling tea, I thought about how much I missed living next door. Game wars with Travis. Sharing Lexi’s gigantic closet. Stolen moments with Chase.
Pathetic.
I hadn’t been home for five minutes and I was sitting here pining for the fool. And to top it off, Mom didn’t even want to be here, not that I blamed her. Co-existing with Chase’s family had been just what the doctor ordered.
I dung out my cellphone and hit send.
Voicemail.
“Mom, it’s me. Where are you?”
Click. I hung up feeling more exasperated.
Shoving the last bit of biscotti into my mouth, I got to my feet and tossed on a hoodie. I opened the door and bristled against the whistling winds. February sucked. Playing tug of war with the fierce winds and the door, I finally won, managing to yank it shut with a proper snap.
The first thing I noticed, her car was in the driveway. Weird, which made me believe she was definitely next door, all toasty and warm beside Devin. Then I got grossed out. There was nothing more repugnant than thinking about Mom cuddling with Devin.
I made a puckered face.
Trudging across the yard, I grumbled and swore under my breath, becoming more miffed with each stomp. I was going to be utterly irked if she went for a romp at the neighbors while I sat at home worrying. So un-adult-like.
I dialed her cellphone again on the trek over the crunching white grass. It went straight to voicemail.
Odd.
She was very strict about keeping our phones on and readily available, especially since she worked nights, and I was home alone often. This was not like her.