Chapter 9
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“What do you think?” Erica asks, her excited tone telling us there’s only one acceptable reaction to her turning her daughter’s bedroom into a honeymoon suite.
Piper makes a strangled noise that could either convey ecstasy or horror. I know which one to bet on, but her mom’s racing a hundred miles an hour in the opposite direction.
“Oh, honey, I was just so excited you were bringing your beau home for the holidays that I wanted to do something special for you both!”
I glance around the space, half expecting to see a bowl of condoms on the nightstand. But then I realize the only reason Erica hasn’t provided them is because she wants nothing to come between her and the prospect of more grandkids.
“M-mom …” Piper manages. “What … Where is—”
“And you’ve got the bathroom next door all to yourselves. I wanted to knock down the wall and turn it into a private bathroom, but we didn’t have time between Thanksgiving and now.”
Erica moves to the dresser and lights—actual fucking candles.
What next? A bearskin rug? Oh, there it is, on the floor where the daybed used to be. Well, I suppose it’s gonna be more comfortable than sleeping on the wooden boards.
“We brought up Hudson’s old CD player from the basement,” Erica continues. “And I’ve left some of my favorite music for you.”
“Why don’t we leave them to it?” John says from his position by the door. He’s obviously supporting his wife, but I’m sure he’s not as enthusiastic as she is about creating the ultimate shag pad for their daughter.
“Just a moment, honey,” she replies, then presses a button on the CD player.
The opening bars of Endless Love fill the room, and I close my eyes, hoping that when I open them, I’ll find myself back in my apartment in New York and that all of this would have been a fever dream.
Unfortunately, when I do, it’s to discover Erica sashaying across the room toward John as they sing the lyrics to each other.
Kill. Me. Now.
I can’t even look at Piper. Thankfully, she’s facing away, her posture rigid, like someone turned her to stone.
“Happy snuggle time, kids!” Erica says, and I wonder if she’s drunk or if there are hidden cameras recording our reactions.
The door closes behind them and it’s just me and Piper, along with Diana and Lionel crooning about endless love.
Piper’s shoulders shake slightly, and a brief flare of panic rushes through me, fearing she’s crying.
Then she faces me, laughing hysterically.
I suppose it’s a better choice than a mental breakdown.
“What … the fuck!” she whispers between silent laughs. “I’m so sorry!”
I relax a little and grin. “I think we should count ourselves lucky the pastor isn’t next door, waiting to marry us.”
She holds the side of her head. “Can you imagine if I were still dating Colin, and I brought him home to this? He’d be out the window and back to Brooklyn before the end of the song!”
My stomach twists at the thought of any other man being with Piper, even though it’s nothing to do with me. Is she still in love with Colin? Does she wish he was here instead of me?
Piper swivels. “I mean, candles? In an old wooden house? Hudson would have a fit if he knew. And rose petals? Oh my god, Brody, Mom’s lost her mind.”
She goes to the nightstand and lifts a box from the top. “Tissues. Of course.” Then she carefully opens the drawer, as if expecting a spider to leap out. “Oh, for goodness’ sake.”
“What is it?”
She holds up a box of chocolates.
“That’s not too bad.”
Then, she lifts out a small bottle.
“What’s that—holy shit …” Yep, Mrs Locke has supplied us with a bottle of lube.
Now I’m laughing as hard as Piper is, my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound.
The fact that we’re trying to hide our hysteria, rather than the sounds of sex, makes us laugh even harder. We end up leaning on opposite sides of the bed, doubled over.
“Thank … thank God I’m doing this with you,” Piper finally says. “I don’t think anyone else would be able to cope.”
I straighten, wiping my eyes and smiling at her. “Likewise. We’ve got this.” I hold out my fist, and she bumps hers against it. I’m no longer worried about what we’re doing. We’re friends, and we’re on the same team. It’s gonna be easy.
“I know the daybed’s gone, but I’ll be fine sleeping on Barry,” I say.
“Huh?”
I gesture to the rug on the floor. “Barry the bear.”
Piper kneels down beside it. “It’s a sheepskin.”
“Bear sounds cooler.”
She grins up at me. “Barry, it is, then, but there’s no way you’re sleeping here. It’s still hard as nails, and there’s a draft from under the door.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Do you think I could sneak into Ethan’s old room?”
“No way. Can you imagine what Mom would do if she found out? We’d be in couples’ counseling by the end of the day.”
Piper sighs. “Look, this bed is crazy big, and I’m a really sound sleeper, so there’s no way I’m gonna roll onto your side and accidentally feel you up.”
“We’re friends,” she continues, “and if you pretend the last twelve years didn’t happen, then we’re actually really close friends.
I don’t even remember a time in my life when you weren’t around, and I trust you as much as I trust either of my brothers.
Actually, I trust you way more. If I had to share a bed with Hudson, he’d eat beans all day so he could fart all night. ”
“Nah, he’d only do that to Mia.”
“True, they’re gifted at annoying each other.”
Piper unzips one of her bags and rummages around. “Do you mind if I use the bathroom first?”
“Go ahead.”
She stands, holding a pair of pajamas and a wash bag. “I won’t be long. Who knows what Mom’s stashed in the closet or the dresser? But there should be enough room if you wanted to unpack.”
“Sure.”
“Okay, see you in a bit.”
She quietly slips out into the corridor and closes the bedroom door behind her.
My gaze is unfocused as I stare at the door. I know I should be pleased that Piper’s so matter of fact about this arrangement, like we’re coworkers having to share a room at a conference, or like it was with Ethan when I used to stay over in his room.
But part of me wants more.
This is what happens when you go almost a year without sex.
I shake my head at myself and focus on unpacking. There’s plenty of room in the closet, with only a few items from Piper’s childhood.
My hand lingers on her cheerleading uniform like a creeper.
Turning abruptly away, I sit on the edge of the bed, a few petals falling to the floor.
If I survived seeing the Lockes again after all this time then I can keep my thoughts about Piper in line.
In my mind’s eye I see Martha, the spitting image of her mother, and my heart squeezes. I’d never allowed myself to think of having kids, but if they could be like her? A sweet little girl who could comfort a grown man with such compassion?
An image of children pops into my head, my children. Two little girls and a boy, chasing each other around the Locke family yard, the three of them laughing and calling out, utterly absorbed in the moment. They all have Piper’s eyes and her smile.
What the fuck?
Springing to my feet, I rub a hand across my face to try to erase the image of what will never happen, then go to the window and pull back the drapes.
Gentle snowflakes drift down, lit in every color by the Christmas lights on the neighbors’ houses. It’s picture-perfect, a scene movie directors spend a fortune trying to recreate.
I did the right thing coming back, even if it’s many years overdue. It might be the season for forgiveness, but I know now that Piper’s family would have forgiven me, no matter the time of year.
The sound of the door snaps me out of my funk, and I turn as Piper enters, dressed in oversized pink-striped pajamas. Her face is freshly washed and her smile hits me in the gut.
“There are fresh towels in the closet and also the bathroom for you to use,” she says.
I nod, not wanting to open my mouth to reply in case I say something stupid about how pretty she looks, then grab my wash bag and nightclothes, and head out.
Inside the bathroom, the whole space smells of her—fresh and floral.
It’s got to go.
Turning the dial to arctic cold in the shower, I wash myself with brisk efficiency.
Five minutes later, my body and teeth are clean and I’m headed back down the hall. I usually sleep naked, but tonight I’m wearing light gray sweatpants and a navy T-shirt, bought especially for this trip, to appear decent in front of Piper.
My heart pounds in my throat as I lightly knock on the door. I don’t hear a response from inside, so I wait.
A few moments later, Piper opens it.
“Come in,” she says, her eyes darting down my body before she quickly looks away and turns toward the window.
The music is off, and so are the lights. The only illumination in the room comes from the candles and the colored lights outside, reflecting off the falling snowflakes.
It’s the most romantic setting I’ve ever been in, but then I see that the rose petals are gone from the bed, and Piper has placed a line of throw pillows down the middle.
This is good. We’re on the same page.
Piper beckons me over to the window, her golden hair like a halo around her beautiful face.
My feet move slowly but inevitably forward, and I force myself to keep a little space between us.
“It’s so beautiful,” she says, her gaze on the snow silently drifting down like a rainbow broken into tiny pieces of colored light.
“Sure is,” I reply, my attention solely on her.
“Thank you for doing this for me,” she says quietly, her eyes still on the view outside.
I don’t immediately reply, my brain struggling to process what she’s saying.
“I appreciate it so much.”
I huff out a laugh, and she gazes at me, her eyes questioning.
“Piper, any thanks owed are one hundred percent from me to you.”
“But—”
“It’s not just the job you’re giving me a chance at getting, you’re rebuilding my reputation, which is currently a dumpster fire.”
She shakes her head. “It’s not.”