Page 16 of Where Love Lies

“Hey, Mom,” she says, her voice tired. Not having her phone must be boring as hell. She swipes a strand of hair from her face and crosses her arms across her Eminem shirt that’s so large, you can barely see her cotton shorts.

“Yeah?” I reply, taking my attention back to organizing my paints.

“I’m hungry.”

My chest rises, knowing I’ve waited as long as I can for Heston to text back. I’m going to have to order the pizza.

“Yeah, okay. How about pizza?” I brush my hair from my face to see that she’s already nodding. I knew she wouldn’t resist.

I laugh, pushing myself to my feet, and stretch. Jesus, I was on the floor longer than I thought. My back is stiff and knees feel heavy.

Grabbing my phone, that I’m pissed at, because it won’t magically tell me what Heston is thinking, I head downstairs. Paige’s footsteps are right behind me. She sits at the counter while I wash my hands free of clay dust.

“We should do a movie,” she suggests, acting like she’s didn’t just go drinking with the neighbor girl. I’m still shocked by what she did, but she’s never in trouble. Would she have lived a normal teenage life, if she didn’t screw up once in a while?

“Yeah, I was thinking that too.” Drying my hands, I reach for my phone to order dinner, when the doorbell rings. I freeze and look at Paige, who is already glancing over her shoulder at the door.

“Man, we’re going to have to pretend we’re not here just so the neighbors will stop coming over.”

“Paige,” I scold. I like the attention. We never had this kind of communication with anyone in the city.

I round the island, looking through the blurred glass, opening the door when I can’t make out who it is.

Holy. Shit!

Heston!

“What are you doing here?” I say, my tone higher than usual, excitement and unease swarming through me. “How did you get my address?”

He smirks, a brow raising to complete his cocky ego. He lifts his hand, two grocery bags hanging around his wrist.

“You can’t escape my company.” He winks. The idea he stalked me down is a bit creepy, but I’m bursting like fireworks to see him. I was so upset when he didn’t reply back today. I was mad and angry at myself. But he went out of his way to find me. Is that alarming or romantic?

“So, should I consider this visit a casual psycho-stalking or something more head-over-heels and you couldn’t wait to see me?” He lightly laughs, scratching his chin with his free hand.

“And what if it’s both?” His eyes take on a look that makes my breath hitch.

“Hmmm. My answer depends on how you got my address.” I tap my chin playfully, but I’m serious.

“You told the Uber driver last night,” he finally says. Oh…yeah, I did do that.

Feeling like an idiot. I step aside and let him in. His dark green button-up shirt, dress pants, and suspenders are a sight for sore eyes. Inwardly, I wonder where his jacket is, so I can wear it and smell just like him the rest of the night.

“It’s you!” Paige’s voice holds both excitement and sass as she jokes with him. My eyes snap from his sculpted backside to her.

“It’s me!” he says back, placing the bags on the counter. “Care if I make you and your mom dinner tonight? It’s the least I can do after crashing into ya.”

Paige looks over to me then back at him, her eyes creating a wrinkled valley between her brows, an unreadable expression on her face.

“You like my mom, don’t you?”

My face heats with embarrassment. How could she just come out and ask that?

He lowers his head, muttering something to her. I can’t hear him, so I watch his lips, hoping to decipher a word or two.

“…help a guy out?” He glances at me, and I stand there, starstruck. Paige doesn’t say or respond in anyway. Instead, she opens the bags and starts to snoop through them.

“What are you making?” she questions, and I’m curious as well. I close the space between Heston and me, but before I can reach the bags, he pulls me into a hug. His hard, warm body against mine causes me to feel secure and not alone. Wrapping my arms around him, I rest my head on his chest. His Amberwood and pepper scent is intoxicating.

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