Back to You (19 page)

After a few minutes of silence, broken here and there by the sounds of appreciation Michael uttered as he finished his sandwich, Lauren said, “So, how was your test?”

Michael ran the back of his hand across his mouth, swallowing the sip of water he’d just taken. “It seemed fair,” he said. “I probably did okay.”

Lauren smiled and rolled her eyes. “Which means you aced it.”

He laughed at her annoyance, his expression confused. “Why are you saying that?”

She lazily rolled her head to the side, looking at him. “You always used to do that. You’d always belittle how you thought you did on a test, and you’d end up blowing it out of the water.”

“
That
,” he said, pointing at her with his bottle of water, “is absolutely not true.”

“Sure it is. The ones you failed, you blew off on purpose. But when you actually cared about a class?” She moved her hand through the air smoothly. “Straight A’s. Just like that.”

He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “Apparently, your memory of me is a little warped.”

Lauren felt her smile drop. “No, I don’t think it is,” she said softly, looking away from him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him looking at her, although she couldn’t make out his expression. Eventually, he turned his head, slowly spinning the cap back on his water bottle. She heard him take a small breath before he cleared his throat.

“So,” he said tentatively, “do you like living in Bellefonte? Or do you miss home?”

Lauren inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the awkwardness of that last moment between them. “I like it here. I mean, of course I miss home, but I see my parents whenever I want, and I have dinner with Jenn once a month, so,” she said with a shrug.

“
Jenn
?” Michael said, his brow lifted. “Jenn Powell? You guys are still friends?”

Lauren laughed softly, remembering their tumultuous relationship. “Yes.”

“Holy shit. Jenn Powell,” he said slowly. He shook his head and leaned against the couch. “Is she still the same?”

“You’d probably think so, yes.”

He smirked. “So is that who you were with last weekend?”

Lauren bit her lip, the corners of her mouth going up. “No, I was out with a friend.”

Michael looked at her for a second before he nodded. “Ah,” he said in understanding. “Well…did you have a good time?” There was a forced casualness to his tone now, like he knew it was the appropriate question to ask, even though he had no desire to hear the answer.

She looked down, a tiny smile on her lips as she thought back to the previous weekend. “Yeah, I did. It was…nice,” she said, her smile growing a bit more pronounced.

She felt Michael shift beside her. “Did you meet this guy at school?”

This time, Lauren pressed her lips together, but they twisted up in spite of her attempt. “No, he was my doctor. My chiropractor, actually.”

There was a beat of silence before she heard a grunted, “Hmmph.”

She turned her head toward him. “What?” she asked, trying not to sound defensive.

He looked at her, his expression derisive. “Must be a good guy.”

She shifted toward him fully now, folding her arms as her brow knitted together. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on,” he said, his expression matching his condescending tone. “Aren’t there rules against that kind of thing? Aren’t there lines doctors aren’t supposed to cross with their patients? I don’t know. The kind of guy that would take advantage of something like that just doesn’t earn himself any points in my book.”

Lauren could feel the need to justify herself—to justify Adam—swelling in her chest, battling with the overwhelming desire to tell him to mind his own business. She felt her teeth come together, and she took a steadying breath, trying to keep herself calm. Was he really going to have the audacity to sit there and question Adam’s morality? After what
he’d
done to her?

“I’m sorry, do you even know him?” she snapped. “And I’m pretty sure it’s not
your
book he needs to be earning himself points in anyway.” Despite her best efforts, the bitterness was dripping from her tone.

Michael was looking at the water bottle as he rolled it slowly in his hands, his expression unreadable.

“And what about you?” she asked, turning roughly back toward the TV. “Still dating the winners?”

For a minute, there was nothing but the quiet murmur of the television between them, and Lauren thought he might not answer her. But then he spoke, his voice so soft that she almost had to strain to hear it.

“No. I don’t date anymore.”

Instantly Lauren felt the anger drain from her body at his tone. She hated that his vulnerability still had that effect on her. She inhaled slowly and blew her breath out in a huff, ridding herself of the last bit of animosity she had been feeling toward him. Wasn’t she supposed to be over those feelings anyway? Hadn’t she promised Jenn she’d left that all behind her?

“Yeah, I guess you don’t have the time, huh,” she said softly.

“No, I could make the time if I wanted to. But…I won’t do that to her.”

Lauren turned toward him. “To who?”

“Her,” he said, motioning behind him to Erin. “I’m not gonna go out there and play the field, date around. She gets very attached to people. And I’m not gonna…”

He looked down, pulling his brow together, and Lauren watched his shoulders rise before he lifted his eyes back to hers. “I would never allow someone into this house unless I knew they were worthy of her.”

Lauren’s breath caught in her throat. There was no mistaking the meaning behind his words, behind the look in his eyes. There was no ignoring the fact that she was in his home right now, caring for his daughter. Lauren stared at him, unmoving, and as her breathing finally picked back up, so did her heart rate.

She knew at that moment that coming to Michael’s house was a bad idea. Between Erin’s earlier comment, the photo album, and now this, she could feel emotions brewing inside her that were supposed to be long gone.

It suddenly felt like there was a magnet in her chest, like some unseen force was pulling her toward him. Lauren pressed her hands into the carpet, trying to stop the imperceptible forward motion of her body.

What did her body even want her to do? Hug him? Kiss him? Rest her head on his shoulder in comfortable silence, the way she had so many times before?

His gaze was implacable, and as much as she tried, as much as she knew she needed to, she couldn’t look away from him.

Her heart leapt into her throat when finally, he moved toward her. It was the tiniest movement, but she noticed it nonetheless.

“Lauren,” he said, his voice gentle, and suddenly it was like someone dumped a bucket of water over her head. She jerked back slightly, her eyes widening.

“I think she’s asleep,” she said, looking everywhere but him as she fumbled to stand up. “I…I, um…should probably go.”

She stood quickly, her movements uncoordinated, and he moved back to his original position, his eyes on the floor.

“Yeah, you should go,” he said, running a hand through his hair and nodding, like he had just convinced himself that what he was saying was true.

Lauren hurried into the kitchen and grabbed her purse, concentrating on slowing her breath. She needed to get the hell out of there. Quickly.

No sooner than she had her purse in her hands, she heard the soft cry. “
I don’t feel good. I need the bucket
!”

Lauren rushed back to the living room just in time to see Michael jump up and grab the bucket. He held it in front of Erin as she retched over it, missing the bucket slightly and getting some on Michael’s hands and the floor.

She put her purse down and turned toward the kitchen, gathering some paper towels and wetting some. By the time she came back into the living room, it was over, and Michael was speaking in soft, reassuring tones to Erin as she laid back down on the couch.

Lauren knelt beside him, using the wet paper towels to wipe his hands, and he glanced over at her. “Thank you,” he said softly, and she nodded, looking away from him to start wiping the floor.

Once everything was cleaned, Lauren went into the kitchen to dispose of the dirtied towels while Michael went to the bathroom to wash out the pail. When they both returned, Erin was sitting up on the couch. She looked exhausted, but marginally better. “I’m thirsty,” she said, her tiny voice raspy, and Michael looked over at Lauren.

“Pedialyte?” he asked, and Lauren nodded.

She walked with him into the kitchen, grabbing a cup while he took the bottle out of the bag and read the directions on the back.

“Put that in the fridge after you open it,” Lauren said. “And only a little at a time, or it will just come right back up.”

He nodded, screwing the cap off and pouring about an inch into the cup that Lauren held out. As she brought it out to Erin, she heard the sounds of him putting the bottle in the fridge.

“Here you go sweetheart,” Lauren said, sitting on the couch beside her. “Little sips, okay?”

Erin nodded, holding the cup in two shaky hands as she brought it to her lips, taking bird-like sips, and Lauren ran her hand soothingly over Erin’s hair.

Michael entered the living room, kneeling on the floor in front of his daughter. “How’s that?” he asked gently.he corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. , le

“Good,” she said, resting the cup on her thigh. “Daddy?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Can we watch the pony movie?”

He smiled. “Sure,” he said, standing from his spot and turning toward the television, and just as Lauren went to stand, Erin reached over and clasped her hand.

“You can be the pink pony, and I’ll be the purple one,” she said.

Lauren smiled softly at her before she glanced over at the front door, at her salvation. With a resigned sigh, she sat back against the couch, rubbing the back of Erin’s hand with her thumb.

After hitting play, Michael returned to the couch, sitting on the other side of Erin, and she laid down across them, putting her head in her father’s lap and her legs across the top of Lauren’s thighs. Michael glanced down at her and smiled before he looked over at Lauren.

“
I’m sorry,
” he mouthed.

She had no idea if he was referring to the fact that she was forced to stay and watch the movie, or what had just transpired between them, but she nodded.

“
It’s okay
,” she mouthed back, and he smiled softly before turning his attention back to the movie.

For the next hour, they watched the pony movie, and eventually Lauren found herself starting to nod. The first few times, her eyes would snap open, and she’d shift on the couch, trying to refocus on the cartoon movie about magical flying horses. But at some point, that method must have stopped working, because the next thing she knew, she felt something softly brushing against her cheek.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking against her blurred vision. The television was off, and the room was almost completely dark now.

“Hey,” Michael whispered, brushing his hand against her cheek.

“Michael?” she rasped, sitting up slightly. She could just make out his features in the darkness as her eyes finally adjusted; he was leaning over her, his face mere inches from hers. “What time is it?”

“Midnight,” he said, his hand resting on her cheek. “We all fell asleep.”

“Erin?” she asked.

“She’s in her bed. I think it’s over,” he said softly, his thumb brushing the side of her face as he spoke.

Lauren nodded, her eyes falling closed for a second before she opened them again.

She felt his breath against her face as he spoke. “Take my bed tonight. I’ll sleep in Erin’s room with her.”

Lauren shook her head gently. “I’ll be awake in a second.”

“Please,” he said softly. “I don’t want you driving like this. It’s the least I could do.”

Lauren knew she should protest. She knew she had no business staying in this house. But she was so tired, and the idea of driving home right now seemed so daunting, and his bed was so close, just a few feet away…

With a sigh, she felt herself nod, and she could just make out the smile on Michael’s lips.

“Thank you again. For everything.”

Before she could even register what he was doing, Michael leaned toward her, pressing his lips against her cheek. The corner of his mouth touched the corner of hers, and Lauren closed her eyes, her body feeling heavy as he pressed his lips to hers.

His lips left her skin slowly, but he made no move to pull away from her; their faces were so close now that Lauren could no longer decipher his features in the dimness.

And then, against her will, she turned slightly, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against his.

His hand was still on her face, and she felt his fingers twitch ever so slightly as he exhaled a slow, shaky breath, the heat of it dancing over her ear and down her neck.

With one last stroke of his thumb against her cheek, he pulled back suddenly. “Good night, Lauren,” he said, his voice somewhat strained, and he turned and walked down the hall toward Erin’s room.

Lauren sat on the couch for a minute after he’d left her, her eyes closed and her breathing slow, but this time, it had nothing to do with being tired. When she finally regained her composure, she stood and walked down the hall to Michael’s bedroom.

By the time she climbed into his bed, she was wide awake, and she lay there in the darkness, blinking up at his ceiling. There was a strange twinge low in her chest, and she wondered briefly if perhaps she’d caught Erin’s virus.

With a sigh, she rolled onto her side and buried her face into his pillow.

It smelled like his bed in high school.

Lauren closed her eyes, remembering all the afternoons she’d spent lying in his bed, doing homework, talking, watching movies, the time he spent the entire afternoon trying to teach her how to play video games, to no avail. She remembered the night she had too much to drink at a party, and Michael had taken her home with him so she wouldn’t get in trouble, tucking her into his bed and sleeping next to her above the covers.