Page 119 of Fourth Point Of Contact

“Are you feeling up to this?”Patrick asked as we pulled down the driveway.

His hand was wrapped around mine, holding me tight. I wasn’t sure if he needed it or if he was trying to soothe me. All it did was ramp up the tension in my body.

“Yeah,” I smiled brightly, faking it hard. “I’ve got this.”

“You’re sure? Because I could slip you inside and up to my room before she noticed a thing.”

I chuckled at his protectiveness. It was cute. “I can handle this. I know just how to play this.”

But he didn’t look so sure. “You still look slightly drunk.”

“That’s because I am,” I nodded, knowing my head was wobbling slightly. I was more hungover than drunk at this point.They’d given me hours of driving around and sitting in that diner—enough to sober up a little and keep things in perspective.

We parked in front of his house and I got out, waiting for Patrick to get his crutches underneath him, when a woman came rushing out of the house. The excitement on her face was almost too much, but she reined it in as she stopped in front of me.

“You must be Piper! Patrick has told me really nothing about you, but I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Thank you. I—” I was swooped up in a motherly hug, something I hadn’t felt in a really long time. I was about to jerk myself away from her, but my chest tightened from the feel of a mother’s arms around me, and I found myself slowly sliding my arms around her back to return the hug.

When she didn’t release me, a strangled cry filled my throat and I barely croaked it back to keep from balling in her arms. I found myself tightening my grip and holding on for dear life, terrified to let go.

“Okay, Mom,” Patrick chuckled. “Can you release her before she decides to run away?”

I wanted to tell him to leave us alone, but the moment she stepped back, I steeled my spine, blinking back tears I hadn’t realized were even forming. God, alcohol made me weepy. I smiled at her, but it wobbled, giving away just how fucking emotional I was at the moment.

And she knew it. I saw it in her eyes as she watched me. Fuck, I hated that I couldn’t hide from her right now. Even ducking my head, I knew she followed the movement because she gently took my hand and gave it a squeeze.

I blinked back the tears and met her kind smile with one of my own, hoping the alcohol had worn off enough to not make me look deranged. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You, too, Piper. Should we go inside?”

As she turned on her heel, I glanced over at Patrick, panicked when he watched me just a little too closely. So, I smiled at him and pretended everything was completely fine.

“That went well,” I grinned.

But he didn’t smile. His eyes studied me, taking in every movement, every twitch and plastered-on smile. He fucking knew, and I hated that. I was always so good at hiding, but right now, I felt like everyone here could see right through me.

“I’ll take your bag inside,” Chase murmured, leaving me alone with Patrick.

My heart hammered in my chest with every second that passed.Please don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything.I would break if he opened his mouth and pointed out just how emotional I got over a hug.

“We should head inside,” he said after a heavy moment.

Air rushed out of my lungs in relief, and I smiled, walking ahead of him up the stairs. The moment I stepped into the house, Chase left, talking to Patrick for just a minute before leaving. I took a second to look around the house, not surprised at all when I saw the sparse contents of his living room, and lack of any kind of decorations on the walls.

“It’s very Patrick, don’t you think?” his mother asked.

“Definitely,” I grinned.

“I’m Debra, by the way.”

She looked nothing like him. With graying hair cut short and small stature, she was nothing like the hulk of a man who came wobbling in on his crutches. Except the eyes. His eyes were one hundred percent his mother’s.

“He must take after his dad,” I said absently, watching as Patrick headed for the chair.

“He does. He always looked like his father, even when he was a baby.”

“No other children?” I asked, realizing a little late how insensitive that might sound.

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