Page 23 of Coming to Grips
Where Kyle’s dad had used fists, Chase’s had used words. Where Kyle had fought back to protect his much-younger brothers, Chase had taken it because he’d been too young to do anything else.
Kyle plows his hands across his head, eyes sorrowful. “You disappeared and you didn’t take your phone, and I was fuckin’ worried, man.”
“That’s why I’m here and not halfway to the bunkhouse.” Despite the initial rise of panic, he realized instantly why Kyle is upset. His flight response had already kicked in though. All Chase could do was not fly very far.
“Are you all right?”
Chase forces himself to meet Kyle’s gaze. “Yeah.” More or less after this new little freak out. At least the awkwardness he’d been expecting due to his previous meltdown hadn’t come to fruition. “I’m sorry I worried you. I…something came up and I needed some space.”
“Fair enough. Do you want to talk about it?”
Chase shakes his head. “Not right now. At some point. Maybe.”
“Okay, just, next time, please take your phone, okay? I worry.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Shut up.” Kyle’s quiet for a beat before saying, “I made mac and cheese with bacon—with rotini pasta, your favorite. You hungry?”
As if on cue, Chase’s stomach grumbles, but otherwise Chase has no idea what to say. Kyle has never made Chase’s favorite meal for him. Ever. If that doesn’t mean something, Chase is more of an idiot than he thought. He nods and follows Kyle into the cabin.
