“I’m okay now,” Landon assures him. “Thanks, Mr. Grant.”
“Is there someone we can call for you?” Theo asks, but his voice betrays a hesitancy that leads me to believe he knows more about Landon’s situation than he’s letting on. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
“He can stay here,” I volunteer. “I’ll keep an eye on him, just for tonight.”
Theo dithers as he tosses a heap of gauze and wrappers in the rubbish can. I know what he’s thinking. It isn’t his job to parent me. He’s not my birth father, and he knows my mom trusts my judgment. Not to mention the fact that they’ve obviously developed some kind of relationship with Landon in my absence, which means they must trust him too. I’m almost eighteen, and they aren’t naïve enough to believe I’m a saint. My mom has given me multiple embarrassing talks about the birds and the bees, and to make matters worse, she bought me a jumbo box of condoms, just in case.
I think Theo seems to be aware of all these things, and ultimately, he agrees, albeit a little reluctantly.
“I’ll be in the house if you need anything.” He heads for the door and then pauses before he leaves. “Oh, and I’ll leave it up to you two to tell your mother about this.”
“Thanks, Theo.” I smile at him, and he smiles back, and it feels like some sort of strange barrier has just broken between us. With a quiet nod, he shuts the door behind him, leaving me alone with Landon.
“Still hate me?” Landon tilts his head back to look up at me.
“Always.” I offer him a weak smile.
I’m too vulnerable to admit that I don’t. At least not right at this moment.
“Tell me what happened,” I plead.
“You got anything to eat here?” He perks up with a sudden interest in anything other than this conversation.
It bothers me that he doesn’t want to talk about it, but I also get it. There’s value in secrets. If he told me his, it would mean he’d have to trust me with them, and we both know he doesn’t.
With that knowledge in mind, I walk to the fridge and open the door, listing off the items inside. “I have yogurt, apples, string cheese, cupcakes—”
“Cupcakes?” he repeats. “How about a couple of those.”
I grab two of the cupcakes my mom baked this week, and my stomach rumbles in want. I’ve been staring at them in the fridge for three days, only allowing myself a small taste of frosting here and there. But right now, I could use a sugar high if I was feeling reckless. But I’m not. Definitely not.
“Here.” I hold them out for him.
While my hands are full, he tugs me onto his lap, startling a squeak from my mouth. He plants my ass right over his thighs, so I’m straddling him. When I start to wriggle around, he grabs my waist.
“Hold still, unless you want to wake the beast in my pants.”
That does still me. “What are we doing right now?”
Being this close to him feels… intimate. So close, I can see the tiny fragments of kaleidoscopic color in his eyes. So close, I can feel his chest drawing oxygen into his lungs when he breathes. I want to taste that oxygen.
“You said you’d take care of me, remember? I’m pretty certain this will make me feel better. Your ass, my lap. A sugar rush. What else do we need?”
“Pervert.” My lips tilt, but I stop them before they turn into a full-blown smile.
His fingers skim against my bare thighs, and I nearly jump out of my skin. My shorts have ridden up, and I’m quite certain he can see every little dimple and flaw. It’s unnerving, and I can’t stop myself from cringing when I imagine what I must look like to him right now.
“I’m crushing you.” I try to wriggle away again, and he pulls me closer yet, and this time, I do feel the beast in his pants. Holy moly…
“It would take at least five or six of you pint-sized hellions to crush me,” he boasts proudly.
I want to ask him who he’s kidding, but I don’t. It doesn’t look like he’s lying. In fact, it looks like he’s perfectly comfortable like this. Landon is a big guy, but I always just assumed since he’s drop-dead gorgeous himself, he’d want one of those tall, wispy model types.
He steals a cupcake out of my left hand and sets it on