Chapter 47
TIP-TOE
MOLLY
Inever thought that as a grownass homeowner, I'd have to sneak out of my own house. But here I am, sneakers hooked in my fingers, tiptoeing through the house I pay the mortgage on, praying to god I don't wake up my parents.
A floorboard screams under my bare foot, and I wince, freeze, listen--silence. Then, Dad snores, thank god. So I creep onward slowly, eyes on the dark floorboards as I try and remember which ones were aggressively squeaky., which is most of them squeakedSomehow going slower makes it worse.
This is absurd.
But if they catch me? I'm not interested in an interrogation or their concern.
I'm so thankful when I reach the front door, I sigh. And then I turn the doorknob and remember that the ancient slab of wood creaks squeals like a pig. I should have oiled the hinges. The second I can squeeze through the slight opening, I'm through it.
Once down the porch steps, I feel a little better and pause to pull on my shoes.
It's quiet tonight, no crickets or frogs, not nearby at least. The fine little hairs on my neck and arms rise.
I search the dense tree line separating my house from my neighbors on every side and catch movement--my heart stops.
A bunny hops out from the underbrush and bolts under the house.
I sigh my slight relief, but pull my cardigan a little tighter, my eyes lingering on the tree line for a moment longer.
Maybe I'm just on edge. I keep finding things in the house moved, missing, the doors unlocked when I'm sure I locked them. I chalked it up to me just being forgetful, but I can’t shake the feeling someone’s been here when I’m not.
, reminding us both to be more vigilant about making sure we locked the doors
But I'm sure I'm just being a dink. My ghost hand is working overtime because I'm so distracted.
Anyway, we have bigger fish to fry.
The second I see his truck, I feel truly relieved, the weight of everything floating off me and away, for a moment at least. I hurry to his truck and hop in, glad the console is up so I can tuck into his side and kiss him and smell him and be with him.
The kiss has only just deepened when he breaks it, kisses my forehead, puts the truck in drive and heads for his place.
"I missed you too," he says, his free arm clutching me to his side.
"This is the worst."
"The fucking worst."
We've been texting, but it's not the same. I feel like I have no idea what he did all day despite knowing everything.
"This is a disaster," I say. "I can't believe they did this.
I mean, I can believe it, but I didn't really think they'd be so…
aggressive about coming to see me. I haven't been talking to them as much, don't always answer when they call.
They don't know what's going on in my life and haven't seen the house and I think they just feel left out but… ugh."
He turns onto his street, listening.
"We ordered in dinner because I didn't want to cook for them and I didn't want to go in public because…
well I don't know how people are going to behave around me with the rumors and all, and I just…
I don't want to hear it from my parents.
I wasn't prepared to factor them into everything else we're dealing with.
And then, our spring break." I try to choke off a sob, but a little sound makes it through my defense.
Grey holds me tighter, kisses the top of my head, pulls into his driveway. "I know." He sounds as devastated as I feel.
"Eleven days, gone. Replaced by my parents." I groan, sniffling and swiping at an angry tear. "I want to die."
"Please don't die," he says, half kidding.
I chuckle. When the truck is parked, we get out, and I slide out on his side, then straight into his side again, looping my arms around his waist as we head into the house, and I keep on venting.
"They asked a million questions, saying they're worried about me, but the truth is that they think you're too old and I'm naive.
" Once inside, I head for the couch and plop onto it.
He sits next to me, listening. "Mom is trying to be polite, at least. Dad's barely said ten words, but I can feel him judging everything.
The house. You. Me. And they're staying all week.
In my house. That I just had to sneak out of.
They brought their own air mattress! Like, they knew I didn't want them here, so they invented this whole thing, packaged it up like a surprise for me.
Can you believe that? How can they be so unaware? "
He doesn't say anything, just strokes my back, our thighs touching from knee to hip.
"Like I should be thrilled to have my parents crash my house for a freaking week after avoiding planning something with them?
It's crazy. They're crazy, Grey. I should just ask them to leave.
No, I should tell them to leave. I should go home right now and wake them up and tell them to get in the car and go home. "
I take a deep angry breath and fume.
"I can't see you. Can't be alone with you. Eleven days, just us, and know…" I swallow hard, really not wanting to cry.
Grey's quiet, processing for a minute. Then says, "Okay."
He sighs.
"It's not ideal. But it could be worse. They were going to find out eventually, they just…ripped the Band-Aid off before the count of three."
"I don't know if any amount of preparation would have been enough to earn their approval."
"In the end, I don't need it. Do you?"
"No," I answer without hesitation. "They have disapproved of every decision I've since I left home. But the thought of them not accepting you makes me angry. Like, I am so pissed. It's small minded, so unfair. Pretty much the usual from them." A dry laugh.
"They don't know me. Once they do, they'll come around." He says it like he's trying to convince both of us. "There's nothing we can do but be us. Show them who we are together. That's it. Everything else is on them."
I nod, reaching for his hand. When our fingers are threaded together, I feel a whole lot better.
He still looks a little worried, though. "What do you want to do about this week? I can stay away, if you want--"
"No! No, I need you. I need to see you. I want you there."
The tension in him eases. "Then I'm there."
"Dad wants to work on the house, which is hilarious because he literally had to buy a drill. Seriously. He took it out of the box. Didn't own one. I might have to teach him how to use it."
Grey chuckles. "Well, you know how."
"Thanks to you. He can't use the chainsaw, Grey--he'll cut his leg off."
"I can come help any time you want."
Knowing he'll be there makes it feel so much easier to stomach. "Okay. Okay, good."
"I got your window ordered, should be here quick--there's one in Sevierville, so just a couple days. I was thinking I might call Wilder and Tate to help me with the rest of the tree. We could knock it out together in a day, but alone it'll take me a minute."
"Oh, good idea. Plus, a buffer. Maybe the girls will come too."
"I bet they will."
Grey's quiet for a moment, thumb tracing my knee. "So…chicken?"
A small laugh, then I sigh. "Mom says when I was born, I had fluffy blonde hair that stuck straight up like a baby chick. Dad started calling me chicken and it stuck."
He chuckles. There's something about the way he's looking at me that flutters my uterus.
"When I was a toddler, I'd tuck my hands in my armpits and flap around going cheep cheep. Very dignified."
Grey smiles, warm and soft. "I'd pay to see that."
" It's cute. Little ironic, considering they're afraid of everything. But you're not. You're too brave to ever be called chicken."
I snort. Tell that to Monday-me. They want to go to the Rambler's game, and I'm terrified to be in public with them. I mean, if I'm alone whatever, let people talk and look. But the more ammunition my parents have the worse it'll be for me."
"Bring camping chairs. Sit up by the fence behind the plate. Less people will bother you there, especially facing the field."
"Smart. Doing that. And then, maybe I really will send them home, and we can have the rest of the week together, at least."
"I love the sound of that," he says.
"Me too." I turn and shift, and he sits back, making room for me to climb in his lap. "And in the meantime, if you can't stay over, I'll sneak out and we can sneak around a little." I plant my knees next to his hips and hold his face.
He looks up at me with adoration, his rough hands sliding up my thighs to my ass. "I really love the sound of that."
Laughing, I kiss him, thankful we at least have this.
The rest, we'll have to make work.
And I really hope we can.