CHAPTER 13 #2
I laughed and took our exit off the highway. “Come on. Isn’t it nice to be able to drop your guard, just a little?”
“I’m not sure that nice is the word I would use.”
“Ouch.”
“I don’t mean it as an insult. It’s only that…” He fell quiet, and I could sense him gathering his words, choosing them with care. “Until this point in my life, I’ve cultured a certain image.”
“The untouchable ice king?”
“Something like that,” he said. “It’s unsettling that I’m unable to mislead you. The fact that I find it unsettling and that my default is to mislead others has turned me rather introspective.”
“Hiding from everyone around you all the time can’t be fun.”
“It isn’t,” he said. “I expend so much energy not reacting that I fear my natural instincts may be altered. Who knows, perhaps I was born with a temper and I’ve since trained it out of myself.”
“I’m sorry, born?” I asked. “I’m having a hard time picturing you as a child right now. Are you sure you didn’t just appear on the earth one day, clad in Armani?”
“I assure you, I grew up the same as you did.”
“Umm…” I glanced at him in the rearview mirror of his bulletproof SUV.
“You know what I mean, Layla.”
“Sure I do.” I couldn’t picture him as a baby. Or even a toddler. Until I saw photographic evidence, I decided to treat his childhood like a myth. “You do have a temper, by the way. You just suppress it. And I think you may even have a sense of humor hiding in there somewhere, too.”
“Do continue,” he drawled. “You’re so handy with the compliments.” His expression was miffed, but beneath it burned a small ember of warmth. Michael liked it when I said nice things about him.
I grinned. “See? There’s that snark.”
In response, he rolled his eyes. It was the most expressive I’d seen him yet, and I counted it a huge win. Maybe I could break him out of his shell after all.
The remainder of the drive went by quickly.
The highway wound through the White Mountains, and after taking the exit, there was less than ten miles to go to my parents’ house.
Michael spent that time picking up his paperwork and closing down his laptop.
I spent it preparing to act like everything was normal around the two people who knew me better than anyone else in the world. Right. Should be a total piece of cake.
“Welcome back,” Mom said not long after.
We stood in the doorway, hugging, while I struggled not to cry.
Coming back to something so familiar after everything that happened in the past few days lifted a massive weight off my shoulders, but it also reinforced the fact that this no longer felt like home.
Neither did the city. It made me feel like I’d been set adrift.
I was so sure I couldn’t remain in Boston, but now I didn’t know if returning to New Hampshire was the right move, either.
Mom and I broke apart, and Michael, feeling my unrest, set his hand on my lower back.
The warmth and steady weight of it suffused me, giving me courage.
I did my best to blank my expression. Mom no doubt sensed how upset I was, but if I kept up a tough front, maybe she’d assume it was because I’d missed her and Dad.
“This was a quick turnaround,” she said.
I forced a smile. “And just when you thought you’d finally gotten rid of me.”
“Nah, we knew you’d come back. Like cancer.”
“Mom!”
Behind me, Michael coughed.
“Please ignore her. She doesn’t understand that dark humor isn’t for everyone,” I said.
I turned to see that he was openly smiling. He must have taken our conversation to heart. The fact that he was making such an effort for her drove the lingering anxiety from my mind and made me want to hug him.
Mom blinked at the sight of his dimples. Ha! It wasn’t just me they worked on. “Michael. It’s nice to see you again so soon.”
“You too, Chris. Thank you for having me.”
“Anytime. Come on in.” She led us down the hall toward the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind, but you two will have to share the summerhouse again.” She shot me a look over her shoulder. “We already started converting your bedroom into a home gym.”
“Gee, thanks for waiting all of five minutes after I left.”
She smiled, but her scent was cagey. There was a gleam in her eyes that made me wonder if this was a setup.
I narrowed my own at her, and she looked away.
Yup. She was definitely setting us up. And after all her talk about me and Michael not jumping into bed together before we were ready.
I bet if I walked upstairs right now, I’d find my room untouched.
Ugh. Parents.
Michael and I carried our overnight bags through the back slider. Dad was on the far side of the lawn, splitting firewood for later.
“Hey, you two!” he called. “Want to lend me a hand after you drop your stuff off? I could use some help.”
I expected Michael to balk at such a menial task, but he surprised me by telling Dad we’d be right out.
“I’m sorry about this,” I said when we were alone in the summerhouse. “I can sleep in the hammock outside.”
He put his bag on the bed and then shrugged out of his suit jacket. “And disappoint your mother in her matchmaking?”
“You caught that, too?”
“I did.” He paused and looked at me. “How are you?”
“Better than I thought I would be. I’m not over what we did, but I’m not nearly as freaked out by it anymore. Which makes me feel like a psychopath.”
“You’re far from a psychopath.” I guess he would know, what with his mother and all. “What happened when we got here? You felt like you were… grieving.”
“It’s complicated,” I hedged.
“Would you care to elaborate? Be as open with me as you’ve asked me to be with you?”
The man made a good point.
“This doesn’t feel like home anymore,” I told him.
A small line appeared between his brows. “And neither does the city.”
“Bingo. My definition of what home even means has… shifted.”
“To me?”
“Yeah.”
He let out a breath. “That explains a few things about my sudden inability to stomach the thought of residing with you beneath my parents’ roof. At first I thought it was because of the threat my mother represented, but now…” He waved a hand in the air in that vague way he favored.
“It’s the bond,” I said. “Forcing us to forge our own way together.”