His eyes shift from my face to the floor. “It’s not as pitiful as it sounds. I did end up with a couple of friends that year. And, you know, I lived a lot in books. And my parents did the best they could. But I sometimes wished I had a brother or sister.”
I feel the need to say something. To do something. To comfort the lonely little boy he used to be. A boy who evidently had more in common with the little girl I used to be than I ever imagined. Rationalizing it with the knowledge that he’s supposed to be my husband, I reach over and take one of his hands, squeezing it.
His fingers tighten around mine briefly, and he keeps holding my hand in his grip.
My mother’s face twists in sympathy. “Poor little thing. Kids can be mean, can’t they?”
“I think kids mostly do and say what adults are privately thinking. So if kids are mean, it’s because adults are mean too but just don’t want to show it.” Damian clears his throat. “But I have friends now. Good friends.”
“And you have Mel.”
He slants me a look I don’t know how to read. “Yes. I have her.”
I’m enjoying holding his hand way too much, so I gently pull mine away. “Well, I guess it’s getting late. Damian and I should head for the hotel. We haven’t checked in yet.”
Pop has been sitting at the head of the kitchen table, listening to the conversation. At that he says, “No need for you two to stay in a hotel. You can stay here. I’ve got a good guest room, and since you’re married, it won’t be any problem for you to share it.”
I blink. Damian grows still beside me.
My mom bursts into smiles. “What a good idea! Since you haven’t checked in yet, it won’t be a waste. Why don’t y’all just stay here?”
“Oh. No. I wouldn’t want to put Pop to any trouble.”
“It’s no trouble. You’re family now, after all. The room is at the top of the stairs. It’s always ready for guests. You and Damian just make yourselves at home.”
I turn to look at Damian, my heart beating wildly. I have absolutely no idea what to do. Normally I’d just say no, but Pop seems stuck on this idea and I really don’t want to offend him since things are going so well.
But Damian isn’t going to want to share a room with me. We’re not actually married. I’m paying him, and one of the things he’s been clear about is having his privacy.
“It’s fine with me,” he murmurs very softly, his eyes clearly giving a message. “It’s up to you.”
I swallow hard and glance at my mom, who is giving me a look of concerned surprise.
It’s that expression that decides me.
I am not going to let her be concerned about anything.
“Okay,” I say, forcing a smile that I hope looks natural. “That’s really nice of you. Damian and I will just go get our stuff from the car.”
After the words are said, I realize there’s only going to be one bed in that room.
What the hell have I gotten us into?
AS WE’RE STANDING BEHIND the open trunk of my car, I finally have the will to check Damian’s expression. “I’m sorry.”
“No need.”
“Yes, there’s need. This is super awkward, and I should have predicted it. But it seemed so obvious that we’d stay in a hotel since my mom’s apartment doesn’t have enough extra room. And Pop never seemed all that hospitable. I’m not sure what compelled him to—”
“Clarke, stop.”
The abrupt words, gritted out through clenched teeth, stop me. My eyes widen as I stare up at him.
“It’s fine,” Damian says, softer now and more relaxed. “I really don’t care about sharing a room. Pop obviously has decided he likes us, and so he’s trying to be nice. It’s no big deal.”
“Well, it feels like a big deal. I mean, there’s only going to be one bed.” I gulp as the reality hits me again.
He’s pulled out both my overnight case and his, but he sets them down so he can wrap his fingers around my upper arm. “Clarke, if you’re not comfortable sharing a bed with me, then say so right now. We can get out of it. I’ll think of a plausible excuse, and we can go stay at the hotel.”
I’m startled at his sober tone. “It’s not me! It’s you.”