Chapter Twenty-Two
It was the same black SUV, even if I told myself there must be a million of them. Parked in the street when we got back from the store.
Kyle whistled, appreciatively. “Nice ride.”
“They break down,” I said, distracted. Then jerked in surprise, as the paper bag I was holding began to split. “Fuck!”
He reached out to support the other side. Flashing me a curious look.
“Why are you suddenly acting weird?” He glanced at the SUV again, then back to me. “Ah. Let me guess.”
“Don’t say a fucking word,” I snapped, hiking the bag up and turning it so that the tear was against my chest. It’d hold for a quick dash up the driveway, at least.
Somehow, Kyle’s expression of pointed innocence was even more annoying than his comments had been. I stalked up the path to the side door that opened into the kitchen.
“Thanks for your help.”
He grinned; it was infuriatingly smug. “Am I being dismissed?”
“Released from service,” I suggested.
A laugh. “Right, right. And nothing to do with the unexpected arrival of you-know-who. I didn’t realize we were so close to Christmas.”
Reaching out, I clasped a hand on Kyle’s shoulder; squeezed it, while flashing him my best, biggest, most beaming smile. “Go fuck yourself, okay?”
He shook his head, clearly entertained. “Say hi to the city boy from me.”
I squeezed tighter. Still smiling from ear to ear. “I hate you so much, you know that?”
Kyle winked, then shrugged off my hand. “So move away from me, then, to the big city. Land of good dick, and boys you can’t admit you want more than just sex from.”
Turning him, I propelled him out of the door. Considered issuing a swift kick to his ass, but - with only a touch of regret - decided against it.
He walked backward down the path. “Call me?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” Then couldn’t help but laugh at his exaggerated wink.
#
Flynn would’ve said, if he was coming to see me. Which had to mean there was another reason for the unexpected visit, and with such short notice it could only be something bad. His parents health, maybe, or worse. Whatever ‘worse’ might be.
I mean, his mom was annoying, but I didn’t want anything unpleasant to happen to her.
“Is that you, honey?”
It was like thinking about moms had automatically summoned mine.
“Just putting the groceries away,” I shouted back.
She appeared at the doorway, arms crossed. A look on her face that spoke of tension, apprehension.
Then again, I’d been such a moody asshole this past week, I couldn’t exactly blame her for tiptoeing around me like you would an unexploded firecracker.
“I can do that.”
I shook my head, chewing back the growing sense of guilt.
Thinking about Flynn coming back for some sort of family emergency had set my brain spiraling into what-ifs of my own.
I’d been clutching at excuses when I pointed out my parents weren’t getting any younger, but that didn’t make it any less true.
At some point it’d be my phone getting the “you need to come, now” call.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. Not really daring to look up from my crouching amid the bags. “I’ve been a pain this week, I know.”
It was a familiar noise; like she was sucking her teeth, while sighing at the same time. Instantly memorable from all the occasions I’d heard it growing up.
“Not a scratch on when you were a teenager,” she said, walking into the room and starting to put boxes of cereal into the pantry. “Then we really were walking around on eggshells.”
I had to chuckle. “You should’ve kicked me out, the day I turned eighteen.”
She nudged me with her hip. “Oh, your father and I thought about it. But we figured you’d only get into more trouble that way. You know what boys are like.”
That was the problem. I did know what boys were like, but I still kept making questionable decisions with them.
The doorbell saved me. “I’ll get that,” I said, dodging her half-hearted swat on the way out.
Flynn looked good on the doorstep. Even with his hair tousled, and his body near-swaddled in a heavy winter coat. His face was flushed red, a scorch of it across each cheekbone.
“Hey.”
I swallowed, fighting the urge to glance behind me, check whether my mom had followed me down the hallway. “Uh, hey.”
Silence, for a moment.
“Oli, it’s fucking freezing out here.”
It was like the complaint bump-started my brain. I stepped to the side, allowing him past.
He’d been in the house before, of course. When we were kids, but more recently, too. There was no reason for it to feel smaller, closer, now. But it did.
“What are you...” I started. Rethought the question. “Is everything okay?”
Flynn frowned. “Okay, how?”
I gestured in the direction of his parents’ place next door. “Your mom and dad?”
He was looking at me as though I was speaking a foreign language. “Uh, they’re fine? Unless you know something I don’t?”
Honestly, at this point, I was starting to suspect neither of us knew a damn thing.
“Why are you here, then?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Look, I’ll level with you. I was kinda hoping for a more enthusiastic welcome than that.”
I fixed on a rictus grin, ignoring his exasperation. “It’s good to see you. Why the fuck are you here?”
Flynn took a step closer. Narrowing the gap between us; slim enough, he’d not even have to extend his arm all the way, in order to graze his fingers down my chest.
“Am I not allowed to want to see you?”
I ignored the suggestive tone. “Seriously, Flynn.”
He sighed. “I didn’t like how we ended things the other day. On Sunday, I mean.”
It was a strange feeling, simultaneously being desperate for him to keep talking, keep explaining, while also wanting to clamp my hand across his mouth to stop any words that might be overheard.
“Oh, Flynn?” My mom looked, and sounded, surprised, at the end of the hallway.
Instinctively, I took a half-step back. Adding more distance between him and me.
“Hey, Mrs Carter,” he said, flashing her a smile.
She shook her head. “What did I tell you?”
“Not to stand on ceremony,” Flynn said, sheepishly. “It’s just a hard habit to break.”
My mom seemed amused at the idea. “To what do we owe the pleasure? Are your folks doing okay?”
Flynn glanced at me, as if to ask why my family’s first reaction to him visiting was to assume there was some fresh disaster next door. “They’re fine, thank you. I just came over to see Oli.”
“Well, you seem to have found him. Will you be staying for dinner?”
It was so much like the old days, like Flynn and I were still kids, I almost bit my tongue from the intensity of the memories.
“Uh, I think my mom would go ballistic if I didn’t eat with them,” Flynn said, tone apologetic. “But, thank you.”
My mom nodded. “Of course. Well, I’ll let you boys have your chat.”
It seemed the most opportune moment to grab him by the arm and drag him up the stairs.
#
“Seriously,” I hissed, as soon as the bedroom door was shut behind us, “why are you here?”
Flynn’s expression was something close to disappointment. “Don’t you want to see me?”
“You’re not answering the question,” I reminded him, still annoyed.
He sighed. “Am I not allowed to visit?”
“The sheets are hardly cold from your last stay,” I pointed out. “They probably weren’t expecting you until next Christmas.”
“Are you telling me to leave?”
I grunted annoyance. “Don’t make this about me.”
Flynn stripped off his coat, tossing it onto my bed. I fought the urge to let my gaze drift down, over his ribbed sweater. To memorize the way the fabric clung to the curve of his pecs.
“We had sex,” he reminded me. “And then you left, and we’d barely had a chance to talk about... anything.”
“Define ‘anything,’” I said, dryly.
“You don’t think it could work. Between us, I mean.”
I boggled at him for a moment. “What the hell is ‘it’ in this situation?”
He sat down heavily at the edge of the bed. Hands clasped between his knees. “I thought you might want to... or, no, well... be open to the idea of us... y’know.”
I stared at him, telling myself that there was no way I was going to say a damn thing until he’d finished his sentence.
Flynn made a frustrated gesture. “I thought you might be open to the idea of us, y’know, giving dating a try.”
As romantic overtures went, being asked out with the same exasperated intonation as someone declining an extended warranty didn’t exactly rate highly. Not that it seemed the right moment to make a joke about it.
“You just got out of a relationship. Now you want to jump into another?”
His stare was unflinching. “That relationship was... something else. So if you’re not interested in dating me, don’t use William as an excuse. Just tell me it’s not what you want, Oli.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Knowing just what I wanted was half of the problem.
I sat down next to him. “Do we have anything in common? Aside from the sex, I mean.”
“I think we know each other more than a lot of people, when they first start dating.” Flynn shrugged. “Isn’t it more about whether you want to know someone better, though? To find out just what you do have in common?”
“Words of wisdom from the relationship expert,” I muttered, sourly.
He folded his arms, looking unhappy. “If the sarcasm is your way of turning me down, I’d rather you just use the actual words.”
It was a defense mechanism and we both knew that. I also knew I couldn’t exactly blame Flynn for calling me out on my bullshit.
“I just...” I paused, trying to put my thoughts in order. “It’s not about whether we like each other, or have something in common. There’s all the practical stuff.”
“You could get a different job, in the city. It’d have to be easier than finding work here, surely?”
I gave the envelope up on the shelf, the one from the thrift company’s head office, a guilty glance. “It’s not just work, though, is it,” I demurred.
Flynn nudged me, gently, with his shoulder. “I don’t know. Getting personal information out of you is harder than shutting my mom up at the holidays.”
It didn’t seem so dangerous to lean into him. Not when his arm felt so warm against mine. “You could move back here? Work remotely, maybe.”