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“She understood. I told you—like I told her—I’m not leaving you alone this time.”
Corey sat up and set his warm half-finished beer on the coffee table. His gaze trailed to Amelie where she was napping in the pack-n-play.
“I’m better.”
“Are you? Or you saying that so I get off your back?”
He twisted slightly, smiling. “I needed to hear what you said. I didn’t like it, but I needed it. Would you mind watching Amelie tonight?”
“Like, sleepover watch, or for a few hours?”
“Sleepover.”
Ricky laughed. “Confidence. That’s good. Maybe you are feeling better. I’ll watch her for you.”
Corey stood up, Ricky followed suit. Corey slapped his brother on the shoulder and didn’t resist when Ricky pulled him in for a hug. Neither said anything, but they didn’t need to. The hug, their talk, already said enough.
He brushed a soft hand across Amelie’s forehead, but that was it. He didn’t want to wake her yet. Then he left with his heart in his throat and his insides gurgling with so much turbulence he felt like throwing up. Somehow, he made it from his brother’s place to Genevieve’s without crashing the car into anything. It’s as if he had been on autopilot. Not seeing what was in front of him but knowing exactly where he was going.
“Oh, Corey, how are you today, young man?” Mrs. Reverson asked as he hit the third floor.
“Just fine. And you? How has your day been? Happy Mother’s Day. I hope your plants spoiled you to death with their lovely smells and beauty.”
She chuckled. “They did. The sweet yellow roses I bought two days ago bloomed. So, so pretty. You and Genevieve have a lovely day. Where’s your daughter? I don’t recall hearing her.”
The walls were thin in the building. They could hear Mrs. Reverson’s music all the time, just as she heard Amelie’s cries and laughter.
He felt the sudden burn in his cheeks as last night rolled through his mind. Shit. He hoped Mrs. Reverson didn’t hear all that noise. How embarrassing.
He smiled, hoping to hide the awkwardness he felt spreading throughout his body. “With my brother. You have a wonderful night, too.”
Then he waved good-bye, feeling terrible for leaving so abruptly, but needing to escape. They’d have to be quieter when they made love.
Yes.
Confidence. Like his brother said. He had to maintain his confidence. Everything would turn out in his favor.
He blew out a breath before knocking. Genevieve flinched when she opened the door, but she made no move to let him pass.
“Can I come in?”
She threw up a helpless shrug and stepped to the side, holding onto the door as if telling him he would have to make this quick. She would be throwing him out after he had his say. Almost as if she didn’t care what he had to say.
She shut the door after he stepped through and turned around, not moving an inch from it.
Her eyes were red-rimmed telling him with ease she had cried. Damn it. He had made her cry. He wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. Beg for forgiveness. Plead with her he would never walk away like that again. Leave with anger and tension in the air.
She didn’t seem receptive to anything he might do or say.
“You were crying.” Well, duh. Why the hell did he say that?
“Not over you.” Her lips thinned.
“Over what, then?”
“Shit you don’t want to hear about.”
Melanie. He got the message loud and clear.
