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“Dude, it’s almost eight. I told you we were moving her in two hours ago,” Graham said from behind me.
Not something, I realized. Someone.
“Got held up at the shop with an emergency. I can see I missed a lot.”
Heat crawled up my cheeks at Deacon’s meaning, and I realized he’d come in when Graham had kissed me.
If somehow Graham had missed the implication of Deacon’s words, it would have been impossible to miss the glare that was clearly directed at him.
Bold, unyielding.
“Yeah, the whole thing,” Graham said slowly, awkwardly.
I forced myself to look away from Deacon, and turned back to find Graham tapping away on his phone, completely oblivious to Deacon’s anger.
“I’m about to head out, you headed home?” Graham asked Deacon without looking up.
“Deaton, Deaton, Deaton!” Keith screamed as he tore through the living room. “Guess who I am!”
“Hey now.” I gave Keith a curious look and pointed from him to the hall he’d just come running down. “I could’ve sworn I just put you in bed.”
Keith’s shoulders sagged. “But Mommy! Why I hafta sleep when my people are here?”
I bit back the laugh that so desperately wanted to escape, and said, “Nope, sorry. Back in bed plea—” My heart stuttered, and I froze when I heard my phone chime from where I’d left it charging in my room at the same time that Graham put his phone in his pocket. “Uh . . . say good night to Deacon and Graham, and I’ll be in your room in just a minute to tuck you back in,” I finished quickly, then slipped away from the boys to head toward my room in search of my phone.
It was one thing for Graham to say things that linked him to Stranger, it would be another if the message waiting for me was from Stranger after having watched Graham text someone. I could feel it, that end when all of this became real, and I wasn’t ready for it. I wasn’t ready to lose this person who had helped me learn so much in such a short amount of time. I wasn’t ready to lose this person that I had such a strange connection with. And I wasn’t ready to find out that Stranger was Graham LaRue, when I so desperately wanted him to be someone I knew he never would be.
Irrational, betraying heart.
I blew out a relieved breath when it ended up being only a message from Jagger letting me know he was happy for me, and was sorry for having to leave earlier.
Not that I blamed him. Since Jagger and Grey had to delay their trip to Seattle last weekend, they were leaving early the next morning to see friends and catch the last few days of an art show that Jagger had some pieces in.
Truthfully, I was ready for them to finally go to Seattle. I was worried that even with a place separate from them, I would still have to endure Jagger’s endless questions about Deacon, like how I was feeling, and what was I thinking planning something with him in the first place.
In other words, the parental-type talks had been in full force ever since Saturday night, and I needed a break.
I left my phone on the nightstand so it could continue charging, and walked back down the hall toward the living room. My footsteps slowed when I found it empty, but then I heard Deacon and Keith’s voices coming from Keith’s new room at the opposite end of the house.
Graham was already gone.
“What? No way, kid! Batman can’t beat Superman!”
“Yeah huh! ’Cause I’m so supa strong.”
“But Superman’s stronger. Like, ladybugs can’t even touch him, he’s so awesome.”
I peeked into the room in time to see Keith smack his forehead with his open palm. “Ladybugs can’t touch Darf Vaber. How many times I hafta tell you?”
“What if Superman just used his laser eyes to kill all the ladybugs in the world?”
Keith sucked in a huge breath, then faltered. “Whoa.”
Deacon nodded slowly. “Yeah, kid. Whoa.”
I froze against Keith’s doorjamb when both boys looked over at me, and stammered, “Uh, it’s t—you rea—it’s bedtime.”
Keith sighed exaggeratedly, but shuffled over to me for a quick kiss, then to his bed when Deacon said good night.
