Page 31 of Lost Then Found
Warm honey. Steady. Searching.
Jesus. Why couldn’t he have gotten worse with age like a normal person? A beer gut. A bald spot. Something. But no—he had to show up looking better than he did at eighteen. Unfair doesn’t even begin to cover it.
I force myself to keep my voice even. “What do you want, Boone?”
His brows furrow slightly, like he’s trying to read me. “I was hoping we could talk.”
I shake my head. “I don’t have time right now.”
He shifts on his feet, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Lark, I don’t want to keep doing this. Avoiding each other, pretending like—”
“Mom.”
The voice cuts through everything.
I turn so fast I nearly knock over a salt shaker on the table.
Hudson.
Standing there in the doorway to my office, arms crossed, baseball uniform on, cap pulled low over his forehead. His cheeks are slightly flushed, like he’s been bouncing on his heels, antsy to get going.
My pulse slams against my ribs.
Shit.Shit, shit, shit.
“If we don’t leave for practice now, we’re going to be late,” Hudson says, exasperated. “And Coach hates when we’re late.”
I try to swallow, but my mouth is too dry.
Boone looks at Hudson.
And then back at me.
Then back at Hudson again.
And I see it happen—see the exact second it all clicks into place.
The way his expression shifts.
The way his body tenses, his jaw clenching so tight I can see the muscle tick.
Boone drags a hand over his jaw, his breath slow and controlled, but his eyes—his eyes say everything.
Shock. Confusion. Something closer to devastation.
He looks back at me, voice lower now, rougher, like he’s still wrapping his head around it all.
“Mom?” His brows knit together.
My throat closes. I blink, trying to keep my expression neutral, trying to stop the ground from shifting underneath me, trying to pull together whatever the hell I’m supposed to say next.
But Boone already knows. There’s no undoing this. No taking it back.
I turn to Hudson. “Go wait for me in the car. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Hudson groans in frustration but listens, pushing the door open and stepping out.
The second it closes behind him, the air between Boone and me goes thick and heavy.
