Page 107 of Unloved

She’s washed her hair, which takes much longer with her curl routine, as she walked me through it mindlessly once when I asked. She waited after every step for me to get bored, but I could listen to her talk about the scientific process of paint drying without batting an eye. Everything she says is enthralling to me.

However, it means I’ve had nearly thirty minutes to chat and laugh with the kind, gentle woman on the screen.

Still, I go quiet as Ro emerges.

She’s in the doorway of her bathroom. Her striped pink pajama pants flood her ankles just clearing the length of her legs, while a massively oversized shirt with a bespectacled teddy bear reading a book and bright bold letters saying Beary Yourself in a Book covers her down to midthigh.

Smiling bigger, I hold my finger up to the camera and prop the laptop in the corner of her half-made bed.

“Is that my mom?”

I take Ro’s hand and lead her over.

“I ordered you some food to get delivered from The Chick,” I say, knowing full well theydon’tdeliver and that I used my scary senior privileges to get one of the team freshmen to make a trip for me. “Should be here soon. I’ll leave it outside your bedroom door with a knock.”

She looks a little shell-shocked, but not unhappy as she turns toward the screen where her mother is still smiling like she’s won a free cruise.

I don’t wait for the rest of her reaction before seeing myself out of the bedroom and into the living room.

“You’re still here?”

My body shoots up, having almost fallen asleep on the couch. I raise myself up and look over at her.

Clearing my throat, I say, “Rhys called. Sadie is staying at her house with the boys. And… I didn’t want you to be alone.”Not now… not ever, if I can help it.“How was time with your mom?”

“Amazing,” she says, walking over to sit opposite me on the sofa. “Thank you, Matt. I don’t… I can’t tell you what that meant to me.”

“Good.” I smile at her gently.

“And thank you for the food, too.”

I laugh lightly. “The Chick really helps when in deep emotional turmoil. Can’t say how many times I’ve eaten my feelings there.”

She grins and shakes her head.

“You’re still in your suit.”

I only realize that I am, in fact, still fully dressed, suit coat and all, after she points it out.

“Only for you, princess,” I flirt. “Figured you’d want to admire your choice in person.”

There’s a bright flush to her cheeks. “I knew you’d look good in the blue. And I can’t really imagine you in a tux.”

“No?”

She shakes her head, biting on her lip.

“You’d be right,” I say, standing to slide my suit coat off and toss it over the back of the sofa. I take the opportunity to sit closer to her this time, my arm stretched out behind her. “I’ve never worn one before.”

Ro grins again, her mouth on the straw as she takes another loud sip. She presses play on the TV, where the music has paused, Manchester Orchestra’s “The Sunshine” serenading us.

“My junior prom date wore this godawful baby blue tux that didn’t match my dress at all—a pink jacquard dress that I hemmed and changed the neckline on myself. I thrifted it.”

“You know I’m gonna need to see those pictures,” I say, and she smiles, eyes glinting with pride.

“Anyway, with his eighties powder-blue suit and my pink dress and heels, we looked ridiculous. Like lopsided Easter eggs.”

A laugh bursts unbidden from my chest, head tilting back as my arm slips to her shoulders and pulls her in a little closer.

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