Page 87 of The Persistence of Thornes
In the driveway behind Caleb’s Mercedes SUV, my beaten-up Honda is an eyesore. Stray pieces of gravel scattered clumsily on the asphalt crunch beneath my sneaker as I step out and turn at the sound of the screen door closing.
Caleb leans against the column, his body lithe, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze appraising.
“Need help?” he calls out, lips lifting into a dangerous smirk.
“No, I’m good,” I lie, heart thudding in my ears, as I pop the trunk.
Why he even asked is beyond me, since he jogs down the steps and strides for me as if he didn’t hear my response. He’s there in an instant, arm brushing mine as he picks up all but one bag. One bag. With how effortless the move was, he easily could have gotten that one too, but he left it for me, knowing I would’ve fussed.
With a sigh, I pluck the last one up and slam the trunk, thenfollow him inside.
As I close the door behind me, I can’t help but ogle him, practically drooling over the way his bicep bulges as he lifts his arm and sets the bags down. From the look of concentration on his face, he isn’t focused on his muscles the way I am. Knowing he isn’t flexing for my attention makes it worse. He gets to work unloading the bags, organizing the items into sections as I set my lone sack on the counter and search the main floor for the twins.
“Where are my brothers?” I ask, concern seeping in and dousing the desire that hit me at the sight of Caleb. They were working on homework when I left. I figured they’d be finished and playing video games by now.
Gallon of milk in hand, Caleb turns to me. “They’re across the street. Cynthia’s teaching them how to make quiche, I think. And they’ve gotten into watching some reality show together.”
A scoff escapes me. “Seriously?”
Nodding, his lips kicked up on one side, he slips the milk onto the shelf in the fridge. “Mhm.”
I pick up two boxes of cereal and put them in the cabinet. “I feel like we’ve slipped into an alternate reality. My obnoxious brothers have become besties with the nosy elderly ladies across the street? I can’t wrap my head around it.”
Caleb laughs behind me. “I can. They’re alike in a lot of ways.”
Head tilted, I mull over his statement. “Huh. You have a point, actually.”
And spending time with the neighbors means my brothers are staying out of trouble. I think.
Just as relief hits me, my heart drops, taking the sensation with it. Because this means I’m alone with Caleb. Unless…
“Is Seda coming over for dinner?”
He shakes his head, stuffing one plastic bag into another. “She came over when I got home, but she’s staying next door for the rest of the night.”
I frown. “She hasn’t been here much lately. It’s not… it’s not my fault, is it?”
“What?” He snaps his head up, eyes wide. “No. She’s just being a preteen. She’s dealing with her first crush, and she gets flustered around your brothers. For now, I think she’d rather be with her mom.”
“Oh.” My stomach twists. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that we were keeping her away. We can?—”
“Halle.” His firm tone causes me to snap my mouth shut. “It’s okay. Seda knows she’s welcome here any time she wants to be.”
“Yeah, but if our presence is taking your time away from her, then maybe it’s better if we figure something else out.”
He lays his hands flat on the stone countertop and narrows his eyes on me, his stare so intense I swear he can see right through me like my flesh and bones are nothing. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly stubborn and self-sacrificing?”
I frown. “No.”
“Well.” He leans toward me, and there go my eyes again, taking in the flex of his forearms and biceps. “You are.”
“Oh.”
“Mhm.” He spins, giving me his back again as he putsthe bag of apples in the fridge. “What are you in the mood for?”
My brain short circuits.What am I in the mood for?
What kind of question is that?
