Chapter 33
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
Rory
“Morning.” Emma smiles at me when I walk into the kitchen the next morning. “Muffin?” She points to a smorgasbord of muffins spread on the counter, some already organized beautifully on a two-tiered display I’d expect to see in a fancy café. “There’s blueberry, cranberry and orange, chocolate chip, and banana nut.”
My eyes widen. “You made all of these? Like from scratch?”
She laughs. “I know I went a bit overboard. Sometimes I can’t help myself. I honestly never thought I’d be this mom.” She waves her hands at the muffins littering the countertop. “But here we are.”
I reach for a chocolate chip one. I pull a small part off and pop it into my mouth. It’s still warm, the chocolate gooey. “Mmm, this is delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She finishes pulling some of the cranberry orange ones from a pan.
“I … um … I’m going for a walk.” It was the reason I came down here in the first place. I was going to tell Mascen, but he doesn’t seem to be down here which means more than likely he’s still in his tower as I’ve dubbed the attic space I’ve yet to see.
Emma nods, her face softening in a way that’s too close to pity for me. She knows without saying that I want to walk by my old home. It’s a couple miles down the road and I know she’d probably let me borrow a vehicle, but I’m hoping the walk will help prepare me. I know someone else will live there now, it’s bound to look different, but it will still be the place I lived for the first eight years of my life. That home signifies the last time I knew stability.
“Bundle up,” she calls after me.
“I will.”
In the mudroom area I grab my coat and walk out the side door. The driveway is long and by the time I get to the end of it there’s no sign of my muffin left. Turning left I keep walking, wrapping my arms around myself.
This hurts and I’m not even to the house yet. I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but it’s necessary. I can’t be here and not go.
The miles pass slowly and it’s forty-five minutes before I stand at the end of the driveway of the massive colonial style mansion.
Tears spring to my eyes and I crumble to the ground.
Inside those walls four people’s lives changed forever.
One ended.
One gave up.
One did what was necessary.
One is trying to atone for the sins of her family.
But nothing I do will ever be enough. I have to let go. The past is just that, the past. I have to move on, be the best version of myself I can be. I can still make a difference, but for me, not for anyone else.
Sniffling, I wipe my tears off my damp cheeks, startling when I hear a car pulling up. I nearly roll into a bush to hide, thinking it’s whoever lives here getting home from somewhere, but the color catches my eyes and I freeze. Just like that first day on campus I’m nearly face to face with the bumper on the SUV. I can’t see Mascen behind the tinted windows, but I know it’s him. It wouldn’t be anyone else. He rolls the window down, sticking his head out the side. He squints at me on the ground.
He hops out in only a pair of gray sweatpants and a wifebeater. I expect him to berate me, but he surprises me completely by doing no such thing.
He bends down, scooping me into his arms like an infant. With a small grunt he stands, carrying me to the passenger side. Somehow managing to keep a hold on me he opens the door and gently places me on the seat. Grabbing the seatbelt he leans across my body, snapping me in. He starts to straighten and I grab his shirt. I look at the fabric in my hand in surprise, not having meant to grab him, but here we are.
Push. Pull. That’s us.
“How did you know where I went?” My voice is barely audible.
His eyes pulse with something that both excites and scares me. What’s happening to us?
“Let’s say it was an educated guess.” He touches my cheek with the back of his fingers like he’s reminding himself I’m real.
“It’s ghosts,” I confess brokenly. “That’s all that’s left. Of them. Me.”
He takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re not a ghost, Aurora.”
“How do you know?”
He licks his lips, his eyes flicking down to mine. “Because you’re real to me.”
Grabbing the back of his neck I crash my lips to his like if I don’t kiss him I might die. It certainly feels that way. I didn’t know it could feel so good to kiss someone I hate, but I’m beginning to think hate and love or at least like are synonymous. Such passionate feelings can’t be reduced to one simple thing.
He kisses me back, his tongue softly stroking mine as he tries to slow the kiss. We’ve always been wild about it when we get to this point, but I follow his lead, my touch gentle against his cheek as I stroke the slightly stubbled skin with my thumb.
Pulling away he rests his forehead against mine slightly out of breath. “Let’s get you home.”
“Home?” My brows furrow.
He cracks the smallest of smiles. “I still hate you, Princess, but you always have a home with me.”
Suddenly the word hate feels different. It feels a lot like…
“I hate you too, Mascen.”
Somehow, in a blink, it’s Thanksgiving, which means my stay with the Wade’s is close to winding down.
In the bathroom I go about my usual morning routine, but take extra time to curl my hair and apply makeup. I even spray perfume on. Back across the hall in the guestroom I dress in the nicest clothes I brought with me.
When I open the door I’m not surprised to find Mascen there. In the past couple of days it’s become a hangout of sorts for him. I told him to stop being a lurker, but clearly my criticism had no effect.
“You look horrible.” His tone is flat but at this point I know the dance with him, and it’s become a compliment.
“You do too.” My eyes drop to the bulge his sweatpants lie against, teasing me.
He chuckles, the sound silky and rich like my favorite coffee. “My eyes are up here, Princess.” I blush at being caught. “My uncle and aunt are coming for the day. My cousin and his girl too, just so you know. Didn’t want you to be surprised.”
“Oh, um, thanks for letting me know.” I start to walk away, but pause, turning around. “Liam? He used to be over with Willow a lot, right?”
“Didn’t think you’d remember him, but yeah. Those two have always been thick as thieves. They drifted apart for a bit there, Liam kinda cut everyone off, he wasn’t in a good place, but now he’s coming around. I think he knows Uncle Mathias will choke him out if he doesn’t.”
Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear I ease backward down the hall. “I’m going to go see if your mom needs any help in the kitchen.”
He watches me with an amused expression until I finally force myself to turn away from him.
Downstairs, I find the front dining room in a state of chaos. Maddox smiles when he sees me, putting in one of the extender leaves for the table. All the chairs are spread throughout the open dining room and into the foyer.
“Morning, Rory.”
“Good morning,” I reply. “Do you need any help?”
“Nah.” He waves a dismissive hand. “I’m almost done here. Emma might need some in the kitchen. Lylah was supposed to wake up early and help, but…” He trails off, laughing a bit. “She likes sleep more.”
“I know how that is.”
Heading into the kitchen at the end of the house, I find poor Emma running around trying to make sure everything is taken care of.
Picking up an apron from the rack I tie it around me so I won’t dirty my outfit.
“Let me know what I can help with.”
She lets out a squeak of surprise. “You scared me. I wasn’t paying attention.” She gives a laugh with a shake of her head. “Don’t worry about it, sweetie. I’ve got it covered and you’re our guest.”
Rolling up my sleeves, I place my hands on my hips. “I’m volunteering and more than happy to pitch in. Just point me in the direction you need me most.”
She hesitates, looking around at the smorgasbord of food in the middle of being prepared. “Have you ever made a pie before?”
“All the time.” Even though I waitressed at the diner I used to work at the owner’s wife used to have me help with the homemade pies. Eventually I got the hang of it and could do it on my own.
“Okay, would you mind taking over with those?” She points to the counter she has the pie ingredients on.
“Not at all.”
“Thank you.” She exhales in relief.
I get to work on them—the ingredients are set out for apple and pumpkin pie—and get lost in my head as I go about the familiar routine.
I don’t know how much time has passed when I hear Mascen say, “Hey, Momma. What can I help you with?”
I look over my shoulder in time to see him drop a kiss on her cheek.
She puts him to work on the macaroni and cheese. He rearranges things so he ends up working beside me.
Whenever we catch the other looking our way we exchange a secretive smile. I don’t really understand what’s happening between us, but it both excites and terrifies me.
Lylah eventually comes down and joins us in the kitchen and an hour after that Willow and Dean arrive. The parade plays in the background on the TV and with the conversation and laughter filling the kitchen I can’t help but be appreciative that Mascen basically forced me to come. This is what family should be—spending time together, poking fun at each other, just … having fun.
Once we’ve done all we can in the kitchen Emma sends us on our way.
“Want to go to the treehouse?” Mascen asks me, hesitating by the back door.
“Sure,” I agree. He holds out his hand for mine but quickly drops it, his face shadowed in surprise.
I can’t help but be amused. “I don’t have cooties. You can hold my hand if you want,” I joke, lightly bumping his shoulder.
“Shut up,” he grumbles, opening the French doors.
We head down the deck and around the fenced in portion of the yard.
We don’t speak the entire trek to the treehouse. Mascen pauses at the bottom of the tree letting me up first.
Sitting on the outside of the deck I let my legs dangle over the edge as he settles beside me.
He sticks his hand in the front of his hoodie and passes me a juice pouch.
“Are we five?” I ask, holding up the kid’s drink.
He rips the plastic off his straw. “It seemed fitting. Like old times.”
I take the straw off the back and remove the covering, stabbing it into the pouch. “Cheers.”
He grins. “Cheers.” We knock the pouches together and take a sip. Mascen’s face screws up in disgust at first but then settles like it’s really not so bad after all. “It isn’t whiskey, but it’ll do.”
Chewing on the straw like I always used to do I watch him from the corner of my eye.
“What are you looking at?”
“You.”
“Why?” He narrows his eyes.
“Because I want to.” His jaw pulses and he looks straight ahead. “Tell me about your cousin. How’s he been?”
He looks relieved at the subject change. Neither one of us knows what to do about the change coming between us and I guess ignoring it seems like the most practical route.
“He’s doing good now. Married with a baby on the way which is fucking mind-blowing. Better him than my sister. I couldn’t handle mini Dean and Willow’s running around.” Despite his words he smiles like he doesn’t actually mind the idea of it so much. I have to admit the idea of Mascen playing with a niece or nephew is a bit too much for my heart to handle. “He lives in Malibu, but the past couple of years he’s come for every holiday and usually makes a longer trip at some point in the year.”
“What’s he do?”
“He’s a professional surfer.”
“Damn.” I take a sip of my juice. “Your family is just full of talented people.”
“I promise you we don’t have our shit together that well.”
“Are you happy?”
I can tell my question takes him by surprise the way his posture stiffens. “I guess. For the most part … yeah.”
“You can talk to me. I know we’re not exactly friends now or whatever, but I’ve been through some shit. I would never tell anyone.”
He wraps his arms around one of the barriers to keep people from falling from the deck. Tilting his head my way his eyes are darker than normal—serious. “I know, Princess.”
My throat tightens at the way he says princess . It’s different this time. I feel that word all the way in my core.
He finishes his juice pouch and squeezes the cardboard box up, stuffing it back in his pocket. “We better head back.”
We haven’t been here long but with the walk I know he’s right.
“Okay.” I finish the juice and he takes it from me.
Before we get to the ladder to go down Mascen looks back at me, eyes downcast. “Thank you.”
I don’t really know what he’s thanking me for, but I nod anyway.