Dirty Sexy Alphas (Twenty Book Box Set) - Hannah Ford Page 0,110

Landon’s shoulder, my arm bridging the gap between our two chairs.

“Do you two have time to stay for lunch?”

“I’d love to,” I said, smiling with relief. “But only if you let me help.”

She glanced over at Landon. “Told you I liked her.”

I blushed, standing up from the couch. “So what are we making?”

Chapter 6

Hours later, after a wonderful lunch with his mother, after a brief—but fruitful conversation with my college advisor--Landon and I were walking downtown. Landon was lighter somehow, the conflict with his mother in the rearview mirror.

I wasn’t really sure where we were going, but as Landon turned on a side street, I simply followed him. We were hand in hand, walking at the sort of leisurely pace I didn’t really associate with him.

It was two more blocks before we reached a park, and he was crossing the lawn, headed toward the playground.

His old house was five blocks from here, and ours was six in the opposite direction. This park was Switzerland—neutral ground between us, a place Matt and Landon would meet up on their bicycles growing up.

Matt would—reluctantly—allow me to tag along, but only if I grabbed my bike fast enough. It must’ve been annoying, really, to have his kid sister chasing after him every time he left the house, but he always put up with it.

Always peddled a little slower as he left the neighborhood, waiting for me to catch up.

Protecting me, watching out for me—always.

And now that Landon and I had gotten serious, I’d rejected that protection and he seemed to hold it against me. I kept waiting for him to let go of his prejudice against Landon, but it didn’t seem to be working. The more serious I got with Landon, the more vehement he was about staying away from him.

He hadn’t answered my texts for days. He hadn’t given me an ultimatum—dump Landon or things would never be right between us—but it sure felt like it.

Now as Landon and I stepped over the old railroad ties, into the gravel that surrounded the playground equipment, it felt like we were surrounded by ghosts from our shared past.

“They got rid of the merry-go-round,” Landon said, nodding to an empty space at the edge of the playground.

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, guess our future children will never know what it’s like to launch thirty feet into the air,” he joked.

Our future children. He was thinking of the future like that. Like someday we’d have a family. Hours earlier, I’d been thrown by my girlfriend, as if it was a surprise to hear him put a label on it.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t had these thoughts one million times. Maybe not specifically children—although I certainly wanted them, eventually—just, the whole growing old together thing. Being together so long that we had a history, the kind of security that comes with knowing the other will never leave because they’ve had a million chances and stuck with you through everything.

Landon led me up a series of wooden steps—ones we used to get splinters from as kids, if we dared run around this place barefoot.

At the top, the structure had a roof, was built to look like an old castle. We were both too tall to stand in it, so he led the way, sitting down in one corner and leaving me enough room to do the same.

“I think it’s been ten years since I was in here,” I said.

“Nine,” Landon corrected.

“You remember?”

He grinned, pointing to something over my head. I craned my neck around, when I saw the fading marker on the roof, my breath whooshed out.

Landon, Matt and I had written our names. Matt, the dork that he was, added was here, to the end.

I remember teasing him, telling him that the three of us were a plural, and therefore he should’ve written were here, but he was convinced he was right.

Landon wrote the date.

Nine years ago.

Today.

“Oh my god,” I said. “How the hell did you remember the date?”

“I came here that night I flew home after my dad died,” he said. “I went to the house to talk to my mom but I just couldn’t be there, so I took a walk. Somehow I ended up here.”

“We spent so much time here as kids.”

“Yeah. Seeing that,” he said, motioning to our names, “really helped. I don’t know why, exactly. It just pulled me out of the dark mood for a little bit. Reminded me that I had you two to count on.”

“Always,” I said, nudging his knee.

“I know that. I