A cell phone rang.
They both froze, then relaxed when they realized it was Aidan’s ring tone and not the one that would signal Dylan to report to the base.
“Hold that thought,” he said with a groan.
Licking his lips, Dylan lifted his head and grinned. “I dunno…I might decide I’m too tired to finish the job…”
“Hold that fucking thought.”
Ignoring Dylan’s mocking laughter, he grabbed his phone and glanced at the display. His stomach went rigid.
“Who is it?” Dylan asked.
“My dad.”
“Isn’t it like three in the morning in Chicago?”
“Yes.” Without giving Dylan a chance to respond, he clicked the talk button and raised the phone to his ear.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in lieu of greeting.
A tired laugh rippled over the line, easing some of his panic. “Nothing’s wrong. I know it’s late, but I had something to discuss with you. Did I wake you?”
“No, I was up.” Aidan slid off the bed and reached for his boxers. He balanced the phone on his shoulder so he could slip them on, then signaled to Dylan that he’d be right back.
The SEAL rolled onto his back with a resigned look in his eyes.
Aidan knew it bugged his roommate that he took his father’s calls in private, but his relationship with his dad was weighed down with so much past sorrow that he preferred to keep that part of his life to himself.
He drifted into the living room and sank onto the couch. “What’s going on?” he asked his father.
“I wanted to talk to you about the holidays.”
“At three o’clock in the morning?”
“I couldn’t sleep. The firm’s trying to land the commission to design the new World Bank headquarters. I’ve been pulling quite a few all-nighters working on the proposal.”
“I’m sure they’ll love whatever you show them.” And he totally meant that—the shadows that surrounded Tim Rhodes had never tainted his professional life, and Aidan’s father was one of the most prominent architects in the country.
“I hope so.” His dad sounded distracted for a moment, and there was a shuffling of papers on the line. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I’ll be out of town from the twenty-third until January fourth. Ronnie and I decided to fly to Switzerland to do some skiing.”
Aidan swallowed his disappointment. How shocking. His dad was bailing on the holidays, the way he did every year.
At the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to begrudge his father’s decision to run away. Ever since Aidan’s mom died, Christmas in the Rhodes household had been a wretched, miserable affair. Besides, it was nice to hear that Tim was still dating the same woman Aidan had met when he’d flown in for a visit in the spring.
“So you’re still seeing Veronica, huh? How’s that going?”
“It’s good,” his father admitted. “It’s…easy. Comfortable.”
“That’s the way relationships should be, no?”
“Yes. Yes, they should.” Tim cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to do this to you last-minute, son. Do you have friends you can spend the holidays with? Your roommate’s family, maybe?”
“Yeah, I’ve got options,” he said vaguely. “Don’t worry about it. Just go on your trip and have fun on the slopes.”
“I plan to.” His father sounded relieved. “You’re not upset?”
“No, of course not.” The lie slid out smooth as cream, having been perfected over the years.
“All right, good. Well… I’ll let you get to sleep. I’ll email you from Zurich if I get the chance. Happy holidays, Aidan.”
“Happy holidays, Dad.”
He hung up and dropped the phone on the cushion beside him, breathing through the overwhelming sadness that clogged his throat.
“Your dad is ditching you for the holidays, huh?”
He jumped at the sound of Claire’s voice, swiveling his head in the direction it had come from. Sure enough, she was standing behind the large opening in the wall separating the living room from the kitchen.
“What are you doing up?” he asked, getting to his feet.
“I was hungry.”
He headed into the kitchen and spotted the sandwich fixings on the counter. “Well, of course you are,” he said pointedly. “You didn’t join us for dinner.”
Even in the shadows, he could see her blushing. “I wasn’t hungry then. I am now.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’m sorry for eavesdropping. I didn’t do it on purpose. You just came in and started talking before I could announce myself, and then I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“It’s okay.” He propped his hip against the counter and watched as she resumed the task of preparing a turkey and ham sandwich.
“So your dad is going skiing?” she prompted. “I heard you say something about the slopes.”