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Lennon surprises me by speaking. After the way she reacted to learning Sophie was at Mayfair with me, I figured she’d be just as upset about this development.
But when I look over, her expression is pleading. Silently asking me not to make more of a scene.
I exhale, and my mother jumps on the pause. “Let me show you to your rooms.”
“We’re staying in the same room, Mom.” I drop the words with a clear note of finality. I don’t care if it makes my mother uncomfortable or messes with her wholesome family mindset. “Which one?” I ask.
“First one on the right.”
I nod. “We’ll go get unpacked.”
I head for the stairs without another word. Five minutes here, and I already need a breather.
The house is silent aside from the crackling of wood in the fireplace, some soft jazz playing from invisible speakers, and Lennon’s footsteps following me.
As soon as we enter the bedroom, I start pacing the room and ranting. “Unbelievable! I can’t believe she—”
“You’re overreacting,” Lennon tells me, lifting her suitcase on the bed and unzipping it.
I turn toward her, surprised. “I’m overreacting? You realize this means Sophie will be here?”
“So? You told me not to worry about her. So…I’m not worried. She can show up and flirt with you all she wants.”
I study her. Lennon looks truly unbothered. “She still should have told me.”
“That, I agree with. But she didn’t, and we’re here now. Maybe it will make the trip better, having them here as a buffer. And it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to fly again before I have to, so we’re stuck here.”
“We could drive.”
She rolls her eyes. “Caleb, come on. They’re your parents. If you don’t want to spend future holidays with them, that’s fine. I’ll be completely on board with that plan. But we’re already here for this one.”
I pull her to me, brushing some of the hair away from her face. Her ponytail didn’t fare very well on the trip here. Lennon’s hazel eyes teem with amusement as she watches me study her. There’s no sight in the world I know better than Lennon Matthews’s face.
I keep gazing at her, even as her cheeks flush with self-consciousness.
“You’re pretty fucking amazing, you know that?” I whisper.
Lennon scrunches her nose, wrinkling the constellation of freckles. “Yeah, I know.”
I move even closer, my lips ghost against her jaw.
“Caleb…”
“Mm-hmm?” I murmur against her skin.
“We should unpack.”
I slip my fingers under the bottom of her puffy coat and am greeted by an endless stretch of warm, smooth skin. “Yeah, we should,” I whisper.
Then I kiss her, easing my tongue inside the warm heat of her mouth the same way my fingers are creeping under her jacket. Lennon melts against me, closing the small distance between our bodies.
“Here are so—oh!”
Lennon pulls away, and there’s my mother, standing in the doorway holding a stack of white towels and wearing a shocked expression. The arm not clutching towels is still extended from pushing the door open.
“Oh!” my mother says again. I don’t think she’s ever seen us kiss before. She hasn’t spent enough time around us to know that if I had my way, that’s how I’d spend the majority of the time.
“You could have knocked,” I say.
