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He paused, not answering for a moment.
“Yeah, okay, we’ll touch base tomorrow.” There was a hitch in his voice, and for some reason when he hung up, my throat burned.
Slowly making my way into the house, I trudged to my room and flopped onto my bed. Why did this hurt so much? Why was there a part of me that now wanted to be nice to him? Was it simply because he’d been secretly keeping my parents afloat all this time? How could someone so mean—who ruined me four years prior—end up being so kind to my family?
It was all so confusing and muddled my head and frustrated my poor heart. Before long, the hole I was staring into my ceiling blurred, and I fell asleep.
* * *
“Rae?”My mother’s voice echoed from the other side of my bedroom door. I picked up my aching head and peered at the dark space that separated us.
“Honey, are you sleeping? It’s dinner time.” Her voice was muffled but clear enough for me to begin connecting dots, my stomach connecting the rest, grumbling as I twisted out of my covers and staggered to the door.
“There you are,” my mother said, with a warm smile and an apron tied around her midsection. The smell of her infamous meatloaf slid into my senses, making my stomach ache.
“You shouldn’t have fallen asleep so early in the day. It’s going to completely wreck your sleep schedule.”
I followed her into the living room, where I froze in place. I hadn’t changed earlier, so I still wore a pair of jeans and an off the shoulder sweatshirt, but my makeup and hair were a complete and utter disaster. Yet, my mother didn’t seem to want to warn me that she’d invited company over.
A pair of deep navy eyes stared at me from over the brim of a coffee mug that had faded handprints on one side and my face on the other side. I had made them that mug when I was seven, and for some reason it had lasted throughout all these years, no matter how many times I had tried to forget it out on the porch or accidentally let it fall—or slam into the sink. The sucker was indestructible, and now my teenage obsession was drinking from it. My lips twitched as he stared at me, like he was challenging me.
“Raelyn, say hello, it’s rude to stare,” my mother chided, swatting my arm as she headed back to the laundry room.
I rubbed my arm and moved forward on numb legs. “Hey.”
He smirked but tried to hide it behind his mug. “Hey.”
Settling next to him on the couch, I was very careful not to touch him in any way as I settled into the cushions. “Thought you were up on the mountain tonight.”
Translation: I cowered like a chicken and said I’d see you tomorrow, yet here you are.
That smirk stayed small and tucked along the side of his jaw, like he was in on a secret. Maybe it was a joke, and this whole thing was one big elaborate scheme to break my heart again. The way his eyes warmed as he looked over at me made me think it wasn’t. In fact, the way he looked at me made me think this wasn’t a joke at all. He looked at me the way I looked at coffee, or the way I looked at my bed after a long night shift at a bar. Like I was the place he wanted to end every night and start every morning.
“Decided I’d swing into town”—he ducked his head, sipping once more—“and ended up here.”
My heart pounded in my chest, hammering out a message of long-lost love and lust. He was the storm that had driven me away, and yet he seemed to shine as bright as the sun, ushering me back.
“Well, it’s a nice surprise,” I managed to say around the lump in my throat.
He’d come to see me.
He turned my way, searching my face for the lie. He must not have found it because the most devastating smile spread across his face a moment later, and right as he opened his lips to say something, my mother announced dinner was ready.
We both stood in quick, silent movements. It was likely obvious that I was nervous. He made me insanely anxious, especially after having his face in between my legs. Was he thinking about that? His gaze stayed focused on the savory meat in the center of the table, but once we took our seats, that gaze bounced up and landed on my lips. My face heated every thirty seconds or so as my mother tried to make small talk.
“Where’s Dad?” I finally cut in, burning from head to toe with how close I was to him. Every now and then his foot would brush mine, and for whatever reason, that seemed insanely erotic.
“He’s still at the diner, doing inventory. I’m actually going to take him some dinner as soon as I finish here; I was hoping you two could do the dishes and clean up?” She looked in between us and smiled.
“Of course we will.” Davis rushed to answer, but all I could think was whether he’d set me on my parent’s counter and go down on me again, potentially with one of those damn homemade mugs watching us.
I’d die.
“Rae?” my mom asked, her brows crinkled in confusion as to why her golden child already accepted and her loser child hadn’t yet.
“Of course.” I waved her off and ducked my head to finish my meal.
I had to mentally prepare to be alone with Davis. This was the entire reason I’d brushed him off tonight, to not see him, and yet, my mother was ditching us. Leaving us alone together. This was very irresponsible of her.
