runs her hand along the bumper.
“Not entirely. But I understand you sleeping with Shane a whole lot better than the kid hanging out in my kitchen.”
Amber opens the driver’s-side door. “Go easy on him. He looks like he’s had a rough day. You both have.”
Olivia’s gaze slides to the house with her nephew inside. Nephew. How strange for him to be here. She looks at her lawn and wonders when Blaze will return, kind of wishing he were back already. She’d hate for someone to swipe his McIntosh turntable and record collection on her watch. But he’d help her figure out what to do with Josh. Then she remembers why she overreacted. She doesn’t need him. She doesn’t need anyone.
“It was one night, by the way. Way before Mike.” Amber settles into her car. She pulls a face and Olivia can’t help grinning.
“I can’t believe you got it on with Shane.”
“I can’t believe he told Blaze.”
“I can. Shane’s an idiot.”
“Agreed. He also misplaces his phone a lot. Leaves home without it, drops it in the toilet, those kinds of things.”
“What a doofus.”
Amber starts her car. “Shane’s borrowed my phone before.”
“Did he text Macey from it?”
“No, but he texts like it’s his phone.”
Guilt slides through Olivia like an unwanted garden pest, eating away at her conscience. Blaze was telling the truth and she refused to listen. She didn’t want to hear that he didn’t cheat because she’d have to acknowledge what he was feeling. He was falling in deep with her. She sensed it last night as they lay in bed, their bodies bathed in moonlight and sweat.
He’d arrived drunk after an evening out with Shane. As his hands roamed in all sorts of glorious places, he whispered promises that had her fisting the sheets and eyeing her bedroom door as if she were looking for a means of escape. He wanted to move in permanently. He wanted more than a few dates a week and a night’s roll. Did she want kids? They should adopt a dog.
Olivia had gasped and almost bolted for the door. But this was Blaze. Fun, playful, knows-how-to-make-her-belly-laugh Blaze. Alcohol was coursing through his system, playing tricks in his head, loosening his tongue. She closed her eyes and willed herself to relax. He wouldn’t remember this in the morning.
Then Macey reacted to the photo Shane sent on Blaze’s phone, and the hurt and rejection from years past poured into her like gushing water from a toppled dam. She’d reacted irrationally, especially after what he shared with her last night. She should have known he’d betray her again. Is that why he rambled on while they kicked around the sheets? He felt guilty?
She closes Amber’s door and waits for her to ease down the window. “Chat tomorrow?”
Amber smiles. “Definitely. I want details about both guys, the one in the kitchen and the one who’ll be back to collect his stuff. Good luck tonight.” She drives off, her musical laughter trailing behind.
Olivia looks back at the house, the living and dining room windows ablaze with light against the backdrop of night, and thinks how surreal her day turned. Lily and Ethan’s son is up there. What is she supposed to do with him? Maybe she should drop Josh off at Lucas’s. He was closer to Lily toward the end before he went to juvie, and Josh might connect more with his uncle than her.
Her phone pings with an incoming text. She glances at the screen. Her Dasher has picked up her order and is on his way.
She returns to the house. Josh is seated at the kitchen table peeling an orange. The rind is stacked in a neat pile in front of him. He breaks apart the orange and shows Olivia a slice. “Peach.”
Olivia stares openly. Josh watches her expectantly. She clears her throat, wondering if he’s messing with her. “Uh, you know that’s an orange, right?”
His chest deflates. He stares at the orange slice with loathing. His nostrils twitch, something that her brother Lucas does when he’s angry. With sudden movement, Josh throws the slice into the sink. The rest of the orange follows.
“Hey, what’s wrong with you? That’s perfectly good fruit.” Olivia collects the orange, leaves it on the counter.
Josh surges to his feet, the chair scraping loudly on hardwood. New hardwood. Dammit, her floors are less than a year old. She moves the chair aside and runs her foot over the planks, checking for scratches. Josh scoops up the rind and turns full circle, searching