My mother claps her hands together.“Dessert, anyone?I made apple crumble.”
Saved by the crumble.
Later, once the table’s cleared, Blane announces he’s moving the rest of his bags into his room—when I’d come in earlier, I had left them in the hallway.His exit loosens the air enough for me to breathe.Grace helps Mom tidy up and I try to help, but they ignore me.
“I get the feeling there’s history.”Mom’s tone is gentle as she directs her gaze at Grace.
“Just old coworkers.He can be a lot.”
“Hmm.”Her expression shifts in one of her soft, impossible-to-wiggle-out-of looks.“And Maddox is being a lot in return.”
Grace startles, color rising in her cheeks.“That’s one way to put it.”
Neither of them so much as glances my way, too caught up in each other to remember I’m standing right here.
Mom chuckles and pats her arm.“You’ll figure it out.Just don’t underestimate him—my son has a way of seeing straight through people, even when they’d rather he didn’t.”
Grace opens her mouth—to deny it, maybe, or challenge it—and I clear my throat before I find out which.
Chapter18
Maddox
From the way Mom and Grace look at me, they’d forgotten I was in the kitchen, and it’s like I walked into a conversation I wasn’t meant to hear.Mom excuses herself to call Patsy, leaving us alone.
Grace leans against the counter, arms crossed, chin tilted in that way she has when she’s bracing herself.“You survived dinner.”
“Barely.”I grab a towel, needing something to do with my hands.“Your friend talks a lot.”
“Not a friend.”Her response is quick and pointed.“And yeah.He’s a whole thing.”
My mouth curves despite myself.“You two ever date?”
Her eyes widen slightly.“That’s none of your business.”
She’s right, but I don’t back down.“That a yes?”
“Asked and answered.You’re deflecting.”
“Maybe.”I take a single step closer, enough for the air to shift between us.“But you didn’t say no.”
She opens her mouth then closes it before cutting me a look that could draw blood.
I grin.I can’t help it even though the triumph tastes bitter.
“I knew it.”
“Why does it even matter?”
“It doesn’t.”I shrug, hoping that sounds more convincing out loud than it does in my head.“Except maybe it does.”
Her breath stutters, slightly, enough.“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
The air between us pulls taut, incendiary and fragile.Her gaze flicks to my mouth—quick, instinctive, there and gone before she can stop it—and she looks away.She blushes like she’s given something away she didn’t mean to, like she’s hoping I missed it.
I didn’t miss it, and every inch of me knows it, and we shouldn’t be standing this close again.