She kissed me soundly, then pulled out of my arms. “I have to get packed. They expect me there in two days. The guy they’d initially picked for the internship broke his leg last night, so I get his spot!”
“You have to pack?”
She tilted her head. “You wouldn’t want me walking around naked, would you?”
“Fuck no,” I responded automatically.
She skipped past me, heading for the guest room—the one she had yet to move her stuff out of. “Nix, I’m so happy! I can’t wait to see my mother! I can’t believe they selected me to intern!”
My stomach flipped as I followed her down the hall, trying to put two and two together. “Wait…didn’t you tell me that your Mom couldn’t come for Christmas because she’s working in Brazil?” I got that feeling—the one where you misread the defense and knew you were about to get knocked on your ass.
Liberty yanked her travel-worn, framed backpack out of the closet, tossing it onto the queen-sized bed. “Well, yeah!” She threw a smile at me and walked back into the closet.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Did she mean…no way.
She came out with an armful of clothes—mostly the maternity ones she’d just bought, and piled them onto the bed next to the pack. “I knew I should have purged when I moved in. Shit!” She scratched her forehead. “I can’t remember where I put my passport.”
“It’s in the fire safe in the office,” I answered on autopilot. The same office she refused to set up to study in because it would feel like she was encroaching on my space. My stomach tangled into a knot, but I managed to stay standing in the doorway.
“Right!” She picked up a shirt, then folded and rolled it into the tiniest ball possible.
“Liberty,” I said as calmly as I could manage.
“Nixon?” She shoved the shirt all the way to the bottom of the backpack.
“Please tell me I’m wrong—that I’m jumping to the worst-case scenario, but it seems to me like you’re going to Brazil.” There, that came out calm and rational, right?
She blinked, then burst into a laugh that I didn’t share as she picked up a set of shorts. “Well, yeah! Where else did you think I was going?”
“Charlotte?” I guessed. “Or somewhere like that?” Somewhere in the state, at least, not another fucking continent.
Her jaw gaped. “What? Why would you ever think I was going to Charlotte?”
“Why would I ever think you were going to Brazil?” I fired back, my voice rising slightly. God, had she hidden this from me on purpose? The whole time? It went against everything I thought I knew about her.
“Because that’s where Breaking Boundaries is right now. They’re in Brazil.” She set the shorts down on the pale green comforter and looked at me like I’d lost my fool mind over here.
“But you…” I shook my head. “You said you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up for the internship you wanted, but you got the one in-city.” My mind scrambled, trying to find all the missing pieces to the puzzle I hadn’t been aware we were even putting together.
“Right. The other guy got the Brazil slot months before I even applied. I don’t understand why you’re so surprised.”
“Because you never told me the other option was Brazil!” I put my hands on top of my head and took measured breaths. “In-city, Liberty. You acted like the other option was just in another city, not another country!”
Her shoulders squared. “Well, I guess you could have just done what I do when I want to know more about your work and google.”
“Are you serious right now?” She’d just thrown my own words back at me. This was…I didn’t have words. I couldn’t find them. Feelings? Oh, I had plenty of those, all which started with absolute disbelief.
She slumped, taking a seat on the end of the bed. “No. Sorry. Are you sure I never told you that the internship was in Brazil?”
“Positive. You think I’d forget something like that?” What the hell did this mean?
“I told you I wanted to work with my mom.”
“Yeah, but never in the same sentence that had anything to do with your internship.” I moved one foot at a time until I was close enough to the dresser to sit at the edge of it.
“I told you she was disappointed that I didn’t get it!” She gripped the comforter in both hands.
“Lib, I told you my mom was disappointed that we didn’t make it to Super Bowl fifty-four, but the woman