“Or you can sleep in mine,” I offered.
“After you burn the sheets, ban the camera crew from the suite, and get a new mattress,” she said with a quick grin and a kiss. “I love you.”
“Done deal.”
I gathered her to me, kissing her like my life depended on it, memorizing the feel of her lips, her lavender-and-peppermint scent, her gentle sigh in my ears. I’d tell her tomorrow at dinner.
As long as they didn’t tell her first.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rachel
Los Angeles
“You sure you don’t need help with these, miss?” the driver asked as he handed me my suitcase.
I handed him twenty dollars in return, the feel of American money almost foreign in my hand. “I’ve got it. Thank you for bringing me home.”
A minute later I walked up the landscaped steps to my front door. The lawn was still manicured, but something was off about it, same as the drooping flowers. Wait…where was the Christmas wreath?
I fumbled with my keys but got them into the lock, turned, and opened the door. “Hey, guys! I’m home!” I called as I hauled my suitcase into the foyer.
“Rachel?” Mom called out before she came skidding around the corner in her socks. “You’re home!” She engulfed me in a hug and her chocolate-chip-cookie scent. “I’m so glad you’re here! How are you? How was your flight?”
I laughed and hugged her back. As amazing as the trip was, I’d really missed her. “I’m glad, too. I’m fantastic, even better than that, and it was good.”
She pulled back, examining me like she was going to find a pod person under my skin. “You’re smiling. Everything is good with the boy?”
“Landon, Mom, and yeah, he’s…” I sighed. “He’s absolutely wonderful.”
Her lips pursed, but she didn’t dig in. “Okay. Well, your dad isn’t home yet.”
I blinked. “It’s eleven p.m.”
She forced a smile. “You know how things are at work right before the X Games, and since they’re sponsoring again this year…”
I nodded. “It gets nuts. Right.” Ever since Landon and I had split, they’d kept any reference to the sport in general under wraps. It was nice to be able to discuss it in the open again, freeing. “Okay, well, I really want to wait up for him, but I’m exhausted. It’s only seven p.m. my time, but it’s tomorrow, or some craziness.”
Jet lag was a bitch.
She nodded, petting my hair. “You must be exhausted. I baked for you, but of course those can wait for tomorrow.”
“Chocolate chip cookies?” I guessed.
She nodded, the hopeful look in her eyes giving me a renewed energy.
“We can’t let them go to waste,” I said, dropping my backpack next to my suitcase. “How about we have a couple and I tell you about Nepal?”
Her eyes went wide. “I’d love to hear all about it.”
An hour later, she was filled in on that aspect of the trip—the good and the bad, and though she cringed, she stayed with me. It had to be hard for her, overpowering her nearly insane overprotectiveness, but she did it for me, and I loved her all the more for it.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a key in the lock.
“Rachel, baby?” Dad called.
“Daddy!” I squealed, running into his arms like I was five years old. He caught me up easily, swinging me around.
“You’ve lost weight. Have they been feeding you?” he questioned in an overly serious tone.
“Just lots of exercise,” I told him. “Don’t worry, Mom’s already stuffed me full of cookies. I’ll be round again in no time.”
He glanced up at Mom and nodded. “I’m glad to see you home, sweetheart. You must be exhausted.”
I swallowed back a perfectly timed yawn. “I am. But I’m glad to see you, too. I’ve missed you guys.”
He forced a smile. “Why don’t you get some sleep? We should talk about some stuff tomorrow.”
I leaned up and kissed his cheek, breathing in the comforting scent of the same aftershave he’d used the last twenty years. “I love you, Daddy. And I know where this is going, but Landon isn’t up for discussion. I love him. He loves me.”
“Rachel…”
“We can talk tomorrow, but you both need to know that there’s nothing you can say about him that’s going to change my mind.” Before they could start in on me tonight about my inability to steer clear of reckless boys, I waved. “Good night!” Hoisting my backpack onto my shoulder, I wheeled my suitcase to the back bedroom of our ranch-style house.
I didn’t bother unpacking, just grabbed a set of pajamas out of my dresser and got into bed, dragging my iPad with me. Ah, sweet wifi.
I wanted to text Landon, but my parents had put my number on hold while I was gone, and it wasn’t like I had Landon’s number anymore, anyway. But I knew exactly where I could find him. I logged into Facebook for the first time since I left and smiled like a loon as I clicked on settings. It felt symbolic, unblocking him. His entire life unfolded to me on the computer—pictures, updates, statuses he’d been tagged in.
I stayed off the pics—I didn’t need to see the parade of women he’d been with in the last couple of years. Instead I sent him a quick PM.
Rachel: Look who I found.
A couple minutes and flashing dots later, he responded.
Landon: Holy shit. She exists online.
Rachel: Ha-ha. Miss me yet?
Landon: You have no idea. My bed is cold and lonely.
I smiled, loving the rush of sweet emotion even his typed voice brought to me.
Rachel: Maybe I can see it tomorrow night?
Landon: Hell yes.
I mean, if that’s your wish.
Rachel: I think we can work something out.
Landon: I miss you already.
Rachel: I miss you, too.
Oddly enough, it was true. We’d only been apart a couple of hours, and I already hated the twenty minutes of distance between us. I liked that he was a few suites away back on the boat, that I had nearly instant access to him twenty-four hours a day. I’d been spoiled.
We typed out our good nights, but before I fell asleep, I heard my notifications ring. I accepted his request with a giant, goofy grin on my face.
He’d just changed his relationship status.
He was mine in the eyes of the world.
I turned off my light and rolled over, trying to settle into bed, but although everything was perfect, something nagged at me that I couldn’t put my finger on.
I woke up from a dead sleep three hours later, realizing what it was.
There was no Christmas tree in our living room.
Something was up.
…
The smell of bacon greeted me with the morning, and I donned my proverbial armor as I made the short walk to the kitchen.
“Good morning,” Mom said with a smile as she flipped bacon in the pan.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Dad said from the other side of the kitchen where he worked with the mixer.
I slid onto the bar stool at the counter that separated our living room from the kitchen and watched my parents carefully. At first glance, everything seemed fine. But there were little things, like the way they hadn’t immediately grilled me about Landon or the safety of what we’d been doing in Nepal.