“So you and Graham are roommates, right?”
She pushed thoughts of the dating app out of her mind and focused on the kind man next to her with salt-and-pepper hair and laugh lines around his eyes. If this was how Graham would look in twenty years...well, she wouldn’t be mad about it. “Yep. It’s been about a year, now. He wanted a place with lower rent and we were looking for a new roommate. Worked out perfectly.”
“Ah.” His dad pressed his lips together in a small, knowing smile that somehow still seemed sad. “That’s when Nancy started her new injection. Insurance pays for some of it, but it’s still several hundred dollars a month out of pocket. Graham insists on paying for it.”
Claire’s heart squeezed with affection. What was he doing to her? “Wow. That’s...really sweet of him.”
“We’re lucky to have him as a son.”
“He is pretty great. However, I feel it’s my duty to inform you he’s not the perfect roommate.”
His dad chuckled. “Wasn’t so great when he lived here, either. The shoes?”
“Yes! Always in the middle of the floor!”
Graham’s dad nodded sagely. “He likes it cold, too. We used to fight over the thermostat before Nancy was diagnosed. He let it go after that, but walked around in his underwear half the time complaining how hot it was.”
A mental image of Graham in his boxer-briefs filled her mind. Couldn’t say she’d mind that. “Control of the thermostat is a reward tactic at our place.” She scratched Gertrude’s ears as she thought. “The video games until three in the morning?”
“Why do you think there’s not a TV in his room? He’d never have put it down if we didn’t regulate it somehow.” His dad angled his head. “Offering to take him camping always did the trick, though. He’d jump at the chance to get outside no matter what.”
“He’s still like that.”
“I’m still like what?” Graham appeared in the doorway and fell onto the love seat beside her, tossing his crutches to the floor. He put an arm around her and let his fingers trail down the skin of her upper arm. Her stomach flipped at the casual contact. Simmer down. “Handsome, funny, charming?”
She kept her eyes on the TV. “More like arrogant, snarky, and whiny.”
“I’ll admit arrogant and snarky but I draw the line at whiny.”
“I don’t envy you the job of being his nurse while he’s injured,” Graham’s dad said.
“Hey!”
His dad shot him the side-eye, looking eerily like Graham in that moment. “Son, do you remember the time you dislocated your shoulder? Stopped us from hitting the parks for weeks. You’re not normally a whiner, I’ll give you that. But anything that restricts you from being active and you turn into a big baby.”
Graham pursed his lips.
Claire took mercy on him and pinched his side, whispering, “You’re not that bad.”
He shot her a lopsided grin and leaned into her ear. “I think you’ve secretly enjoyed taking care of me.”
She shrugged, unable to deny it but unwilling to admit it. He just grinned and settled back, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her shoulder, sending goose bumps up her neck.
At lunch, Graham’s mom came out and the four of them ate around the kitchen table while Graham and his dad relayed stories of camping and their various outdoor adventures while Graham was growing up. His dad told a story of Graham rescuing an inexperienced climber from the side of a rock face, during which Graham remained strangely silent.
While she still loathed the risks he took every time he met his buddies for some outdoor expedition, hearing him talk about it with his dad and witnessing their obvious bond helped her understand why it meant so much to him, and likely where his love for nature started.
“Do you still go camping?” Claire asked his dad.
“Not much,” he admitted. “Only when Graham’s home. I’m not much for going alone.”
“If you’d take me up on my offer to find you a place in Denver, we could go every weekend,” Graham said.
“I’m too old to move,” his dad said in a tired voice that indicated this was a well-worn conversation.
Graham sighed and leaned toward Claire. “I’ll convince them one of these days.”
“I could be persuaded,” his mom started. “If you ever got married and I had grandkids to see.”
Graham choked on his water. “Mom.”
“Do you want kids, Claire?” she asked.
Stay calm. Graham warned you this would happen. “Yes, I do. Someday.”
“Well, if I may,” his mom continued. “You two would have beautiful children. And I don’t think the making part would be too difficult since you were practicing last night.”
Graham groaned and dropped his forehead to the table with a thump.
Claire’s face was hotter than the sun.
“Nancy,” Graham’s dad chided with a poorly contained grin. “You’re embarrassing them.”
She didn’t look the least bit sorry. “Our room is right next door. Honestly.”
Graham sat up and pressed balled-up fists to his forehead. He looked at his mom with incredulous eyes, and finally landed on Claire. “I think it’s time for us to go.”
“Oh, come on,” his mom laughed, “I’m just teasing! Let an old, sick woman have some fun.”
“There is zero fun here.” Graham looked at Claire. “Are you having fun?”
It felt weird to admit, but... “A little. It’s mostly awkward, but a tiny bit fun. Like, ninety-ten.”
“What about yesterday when we played gin rummy?” his mom asked. “That was fun, right?”
“The one time I beat you, yes.”
Graham shot his mom an impressed look. “She only beat you once? I haven’t beat her yet! Teach me your secret.”
His mom eyed him. “I don’t think I will.”
Graham threw up his hands. “I can’t win around here.”
Claire snorted. “Especially not at cards.”
They headed back to Denver that afternoon. As they passed Westfield High in the daylight, Claire eyed the fancy buildings and football field, shivering as she remembered the way he’d pressed her against the wall under the bleachers and kissed her like it was his last day on earth.
He sat beside her, seemingly intent on looking anywhere but the campus, his large body filling the seat, dark head leaning back against the leather.
“Graham?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you tell me what happened with Angela?”
He stared at her for a long moment before turning his attention straight ahead, considering.
When he didn’t speak for several seconds, she realized she’d never hear the real story. Disappointment burrowed deep, surprising her. It shouldn’t matter, but she’d really thought they’d become closer.
She thought he saw her differently and trusted her enough to open up. She’d learned more about him in the last few weeks than in years prior and he’d brought her to Santa Fe, but apparently there was still a line he refused to cross.
Swallowing a thick lump, she sighed. It was probably for the best, since she planned to put some distance between them when they got back, anyway. “Never mind.”
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed him tilt his head back, resting it against the seat. “I told you I was the poor kid at that school. That I didn’t fit in.” He ran a hand down his face. “In middle school every day was complete misery. I hated it so much, I can’t even describe it. But my dad worked damn hard to get me there, and he and my mom were so sure with a good education I’d have a better chance at college and beyond. Neither of them went to college, so it was a huge deal to them. So I sucked it up and got through it.
“In eighth grade Angela and I were paired up for a science project. She was actually nice to me, and I thought we’d become friends. She talked to me in science class and even acknowledged me in the hallways. She was popular, attractive, and the first person to treat me like I wasn’t complete trash. I fell hard for that girl, and out of some stupid boyish grandeur, I asked her to the school dance.”