“Of course.”
I tear myself away from her, slipping through the door and making it downstairs.
I immediately make myself useful, tidying away half-finished board games from before my dad and I left for Vermont. I’d letLeah know I was going to be home early, and I’m grateful she restocked the fridge with plenty of fresh produce.
I take off my layers, folding my sweater into a neat square and placing it on a kitchen stool until I’m left in the white undershirt I had underneath. I pull out all the ingredients to make a garlic-based pasta with chicken.
The simplicity of the routine relaxes me a little, and after I’ve finished, I make my way into the living room and light the fire in the stone fireplace before wandering over to the piano bench. I flick through the pages of my sheet music, landing on a mellow Christmas song, and start playing. I get lost in the music and the quiet house, feeling the tension ease its way out of my shoulders and roll off my body like a wave. I feel free when I play, both focused and lost at the same time.
I don’t know how much time passes before I open my eyes to see Scarlett standing on the other side of the piano, her dark hair damp and tucked behind her ears. She’s wearing the same Sims pajamas she wore the day she was late to the library, and I hide the smirk that is threatening to overtake my face.
I drop my gaze to my hands, quickly flicking over the page of music. “I never would’ve pegged you as a gamer.”
“I’m full of surprises,” she mumbles, leaning against the piano. I chuckle, happy that some of the warmth has filled her cheeks again. “How the hell do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Talk and play at the same time.”
I shrug, showing off by taking one of my hands off and just playing the right-hand melody. “I don’t know . . . I’m just really talented.”
“Har-har.” I gesture to the piano bench, scooching over to give her room to sit. She thinks about it for a second before eventually sliding in beside me, our thighs pressed together as Icontinue playing. I nod toward the mug of tea I prepared for her on the small coffee table beside the piano, but she doesn’t take it.
“So, you’ve always been a fan of The Grand Brew?” she asks skeptically.
“I may or may not have been inspired by seeing the label hang out one of your flasks once,” I admit shamelessly.
“What?!” she splutters, a contagious laugh spilling out of her.
“I haven’t even tried it. It’s stupid, I know.”
“So you lied in Denver,” she says, and I shrug. She scoffs. “You’re so sly, you know that?” I shrug again, and she laughs even harder. “So . . . what? You just have a constant supply at both your houses to . . . impress me?”
“I like to support small businesses,” I say coyly. “Besides, it would take a lot more than tea to impress you, Scarlett.”
She holds up her chin confidently. “True.”
“But I did get them just in case.”
“Just in case of what?”
“Just in case you needed me,” I admit. Her eyes soften and she looks at the tea again. This time, her eyes wander a little and she takes in the open living room, frowning when she turns to me. “If your dad’s still in Vermont, then why are you here?”
I pause, thinking if I should lie and tell her this was always our plan or if I should tell her the truth. Her eyebrows are pinched together in that adorably concentrated way that makes me smile. All I’ve wanted is for Scarlett to trust me, to see me as someone she can talk to and open up to. Not just the person she can bicker with in class. So, I tell her the truth.
“I came back for you.”
Her eyes widen, pink lips popping open. “Evan, you—”
“Shh,” I whisper, bumping my shoulder against hers. “Just let me do something nice for you, yeah?”
For a second, I think she’s going to put up a fight about it. Demand to know why I would cut my trip short just to bewith her, but I think she already knows the answer. Instead, she drops her head to my shoulder, placing her hands between her thighs as she watches me play.
“But I’m so mean to you,” she mumbles.
I bark out a laugh. “I know.”
“And you still do these nice things for me.”
