The end goal was music. That was what I had to remember. Music was my constant. As eager as I was to see Cade again, I couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not by him, not by the past, not by anything.
I used the extra time to straighten my hair, a rare occurrence for me, but it kept my hands busy. Mom called twice to make sure I was up, and the second time I just put her on speakerphone and let her chatter on, interjecting the occasional “Yes,” and “Really?” to keep her going.
I pulled a scoop-neck shirt over my head, and looked in the mirror. The tattoos weren’t blatantly on display, but they definitely weren’t hidden. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine how my parents would react.
But for the life of me, I couldn’t picture it. Or maybe I didn’t want to.
I was grabbing my coat and scarf when a knock sounded on my door.
Cade.
My head was spinning.
“Just a second!”
I leaned a hand against the nearest wall and took a second to calm myself and fortify my walls.
Don’t think about him. Think about music.
I imagined a quick cigarette, but it did little to calm my nerves. Finally, I just grabbed the doorknob, and pulled.
He stood on the other side of my door, leaning against my doorjamb in a way that was so comfortable and sexy that I thought I had to be dreaming.
I pinched myself, but nothing changed.
So much for not thinking about him. All the emotions I’d narrowly kept in check this week hit me hard and fast. I tried to swallow it down, but it was just too much.
The expression on his face was unreadable, and I couldn’t seem to get my brain to process the fact that he was standing in front of me. It took all of my brainpower to utter, “Hi.” Then the rest of my thoughts fizzled out completely.
He pushed off the door, and stood in front of me with his hands in his pockets. My traitorous eyes traced from his arms to his shoulders to the straight edge of his jaw before I managed to get myself under control.
If just seeing him could affect me like this, how was I ever going to survive the holidays with him at my parents? I looked up, and he smiled like there was no painful history between us, like he wasn’t dying just from being in such close proximity. It took all my strength to resist touching him, and he stood there, the picture of ease and comfort.
I stared, battling with myself until he cleared his throat and said, “You ready?”
Not even close.
33
Cade
When she opened the door, the sight of her undid me. Her hair was longer and so blond it was almost white. Her normal curls were gone, and it fell in long, straight sheets. My heart sunk because I thought she’d tamed her hair color to appease her parents. Then she turned to the side to gesture me in, and the light hit her hair through a window. It was not white, but a very pale purple.
She smiled, and she seemed genuinely glad to see me.
“The hair looks great,” I said.
The top half of her hair was pulled back so that it didn’t cover the birds on her neck. Her clothing wasn’t outrageous, but it was still her. More importantly, it didn’t feel like she was hiding.
She shrugged. “You told me to be myself, so I am.”
I didn’t have to fake the smile that spread across my face.
Max moved toward the couch and fiddled with her carry-on, giving me the chance to take her in completely. She looked nervous, but I was sure it was just about seeing her parents.
I was a mess inside. I couldn’t make up my mind whether I wanted to turn around and walk out the door, or pull her into my arms and kiss her. I settled for behaving as naturally as possible.
I didn’t know what to say, so I settled for being useful. As soon as she had zipped up her duffel bag, I leaned around her and took it. My chest brushed against her back, and she stiffened.
I moved back quickly, but the damage had already been done. She moved away from me to grab a few more of her things.
“Are you nervous?” I asked.
She looked up at me, her blue eyes wide and questioning. Her eyes made this so much more difficult.
When she didn’t answer, I added, “About your parents?”
She breathed a laugh and said, “Only enough to throw up.”
It was good to hear her laugh.
“Oh, is that all?”
I followed her out into the hallway and waited while she locked her apartment. Over her shoulder she said, “ I should warn you, my sister-in-law, Bethany, is the Antichrist in panty hose.”
I laughed, and she whipped around to face me. She looked so surprised. I could only imagine what she had expected out of this trip. Maybe she thought I’d try to get her back. Probably she just expected me to be broken up over what she’d done.
I was sick of being that guy.
There was no reason I couldn’t act normal. I was an actor for God’s sake.
She said, “You laugh, but I’m serious. Spending time with her is like taking a cheese grater to the brain.”
“It can’t be that bad.”