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Once again, I knock on the door, wanting it to be Adalynn who answers so I can apologize for being so absent this last week.
It’s just my luck that Ronnie answers the door instead, telling me that Adalynn is no longer in a rush to be the first one to see me.
“Hey, man,” I say, pressing my palm into the ache in my chest.
Adalynn’s brother narrows his eyes at me, his large body blocking entry to the house. I tilt my head, wondering what the hell is going on, but he blinks and then steps aside.
“Robin got a wild hair and made some new recipe from Pinterest,” Ronnie mutters, before turning into the living room. “This one might actually kill us.”
Before I can open my mouth to make a joke, Adalynn steps out of the bathroom in the hallway, looking startled when she spots me.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I tease, closing the distance between us.
“Didn’t expect you to come tonight,” she says, turning her face away when I sweep a kiss over her temple.
“Eastyn finally gave me a break,” I tell her.
She blinks up at me, but there’s less familiarity in her eyes than is normally there.
“Did she make you change your bodywash too?”
Another wave of confusion hits me, and it takes me a minute to understand what she’s saying. I lift my hands to my nose. “Hand soap in the bathroom. I think it’s wildflower something or other.”
She pulls her head away, like I’m holding up something disgusting, when I lift my hands for her to smell.
“No thank you,” she says in that perfectly respectable way she would turning down a free sample at the grocery store.
It’s not something she would ever do to me, however.
Things have changed between us, and it becomes even more obvious when we sit down for the meal and she can’t even look in my direction. Ronnie makes a joke about the food, something Robin takes like a champ because she’s a good sport and knows that it didn’t turn out the way it was supposed to.
Adalynn doesn’t lift her eyes to mine, as she normally would, to tell me she agrees but would never say so out loud. She’s not the type to hurt anyone’s feelings.
“I think some people put really good pictures up on that website and then they mangle the recipe on purpose so people waste good money on bad food,” Robin mutters as she lifts her fork, the food sticking to it like a ball of paste.
“Give us a minute, guys,” Gina says as she stands. “Come on, Robin. Let’s whip up some sandwiches.”
Robin gives one final frown down to her plate before standing and carrying it with her to the kitchen.
I turn a little in my chair to face Adalynn, but no sooner do I open my mouth to ask her how she’s feeling, she’s standing and carrying her plate to the kitchen.
A sinking feeling threatens to settle inside of me, but I’m not the type of guy to just let an issue go unchecked. I grab my plate and reach over to take Ronnie’s as well and follow her from the room. She’s coming back out to grab Donnie’s and her dad’s plates by the time I make it in there.
Another minute or so passes before we meet in the middle.
This distance is killing me, and I’m to the point where I don’t care what others think or what they may see. I stop her on her way out of the kitchen and, with a hand on her elbow, I lead her from the room.
“What’s going on?” I ask once we’re alone in the living room.
“Nothing,” she says, not meeting my eyes as if I’m a fool.
“It’s not nothing.”
Rather than looking at me, she locks her eyes on something over my shoulder. I hate that she can’t even look at me right now.
“If I did—”
“I just don’t feel well,” she interrupts.
