Page 49 of Finding Home
I grab my book and start reading out loud from where I left off until I hear her soft little snores coming through the phone. I just lie in my bed and listen to her breathing and the way it relaxes me. I can’t find it in myself to hang up the call before I fall asleep.
Chloe texts at nearly noon the next day that they’re on their way home, and I can picture her with big sunglasses on in an oversize hoodie and leggings, probably clutching a coffee and some greasy food. Based on the way she sounded last night, she’s got to be fighting one of the world’s worst hangovers.
Lila and I agreed on cereal for breakfast and a meal of breakfast foods for lunch, because I know it’s something that will help Chloe.
I’m just finishing with everything when Chloe walks in the front door. I can’t fight my grin as she walks into the kitchen, sunglasses on top of her head in an oversize hoodie that saysUBC School of Medicine, a pair of leggings, and a large coffee clutched to her chest. Called every last detail.
“Well, good morning, sunshine,” I say.
She reaches for a piece of bacon on the tray I’m holding and says, “That’s brat to you.”
She caught me so off guard I throw my head back and release a chest-shaking laugh. “Noted. I’ve made lunch, thought you could use some food.”
The look of gratitude she gives me has me wanting to kiss her, but I take a deep breath and settle on giving her arm a squeeze as I pass her. She stares at the spot I touched her, pink tinging her cheeks before she sits at the table and I call Lila.
TWENTY-SEVEN
CHLOE
Ifeel like I’m going to combust. The last week has been pure torture. Ever since my trip to West Bridgejaw, Everett and I have been flirty with each other, and I swear there were a few times he was going to kiss me. He’s asked to practice braiding more, and I showed him how to french braid. We’ve spend a few nights with me sitting between his legs as he’s brushed my hair and braided it, and I’ve wanted to curl up in his arms after each one. Instead, I headed to my room where I got myself off to thoughts of Everett before wrapping myself around pillows, wishing it was him.
It’s the last weekend before Mrs. Simpson’s surgery, and she insisted on taking Lila for the weekend. She picked her up from school today, and Everett will pick her up Sunday night. I’m heading to Incahoots tonight for Colton’s birthday, and hopefully I can crash at Brinley’s after, because I don’t know how much longer I can take flirting with Everett.
It’s loud as I push open the door to Incahoots. There’s live music and so many people packed in here that you have to raise your voice to be heard. I find Colton near the front of the dance floor and hug him.
“Happy birthday,” I yell over the music.
“Thanks.” He looks at me. “Where’s your drink?”
“Just got here.”
He nods. “Go get a drink. You owe me a dance or two tonight. Don’t think I’m letting you leave without those.”
I grin. “As long as you think you can keep up.”
His grin is wicked, and I make my way to the bar, grabbing a drink and taking in the room. I find Ryder and the girls off to the side and join them. We’re a couple drinks in, dancing and laughing, when Brinley elbows me in the side and lifts her chin to the bar. I turn to look and spot Everett leaning against it, watching us. I hold his eyes across the room as if it’s just us as he takes a sip of his beer. He doesn’t move, just stands there staring at me. I huff and turn away, dancing with my friends.
As the song changes, Colton comes up and offers me his hand. I take it, and he spins me into him, pulling a giggle from me. We easily slip into the moves, and I’m grinning from ear to ear when he spins me out and a set of hands grab my waist. I look up until I meet Everett’s eyes. He takes over the moves, and I follow him.
“I was dancing with someone,” I say indignantly.
“I saw,” he grunts.
“You could have asked for a dance.”
He spins me, but I notice how his hold on my hand tightens like he doesn’t want someone taking me away the same way he took me from Colton.
“Or I could have done this,” he says.
When the song ends, I go to step away, but his grip on me tightens again.
“I’m going to dance with Colton. You kind of stole me away mid-song.” When he doesn’t let go, I whirl on him. “What the fuck is wrong with you right now?”
He raises a brow but doesn’t say anything.
“Why won’t you let me go?”
He steps closer until I feel his breath dance across my cheek. “Because I don’t like seeing someone else’s hands on you.”
