Deliciously Obedient (38 page)

“
I
thought,” he choked out, pointing at Jeremy, “that you were
sleeping with him!”

“
I
am.”

“
Both
at the same time?” The door to Madge’s room opened and Alex
happened to step out as those words were uttered.

“
Not
yet,” she said through gritted teeth.

“
What
do you mean, ‘yet’?” Miles yelped. Alex slunk away, mumbling
about some woman named Josie and her dating service. Weird guy. Lydia
was suddenly glad Grandma had never set them up.

She
was getting sick of
all
men at this rate.

Mike
stopped the silly argument with Miles and reached for her hand, which
she let go limp. All her energy was draining out of her, every drop
needed for Grandma, and now she was wasting herself on people who
were fighting over details that meant nothing to her.

“
Lydia,
we need to talk,” Mike said.

“
No,
Mike, I need to help my grandmother. You want to talk? Come find me
in a few days at the campground.”

“
The
campground?” Miles and Jeremy said simultaneously, then looked at
each other with a move that seemed a little too scripted.

“
Yes,
the campground. I want you”—she pointed to Mike—“and you,
Jeremy, to go. You want me? Come and talk to me in a few days after
I’ve cleared my head. I can’t even see straight, much less think
straight, because you two have been so
blah blah blah
about
what
you
want.”

Breathing
hard, she poked Mike’s chest. Miles smiled, a diabolical look. “Go
away, Miles,” she said, eyes on Mike. Something in her voice made
her brother halt, the grin peeling off.

“
Fine.
But if you come to the campground, Mike—”

“
When,”
Mike said.

“
If
,
then you damn well better be prepared to deal with my parents. We
don’t take kindly to being invaded.”

Lydia
gawked at him. “Could you sound more like something out of
Duck
Dynasty
? ‘Don’t take kindly’? No one in Maine says that.”
Her voice dripped with scorn.

Flustered
and defeated, Miles just looked down at her and glared. “You’re
so busted once Mom and Dad figure out who he really is.”

And
he was right.

She
didn’t care.

“
Get
out of here.” Mike and Jeremy exchanged a look, Miles went into
Madge’s room and Lydia planted her hands on her hips. “Just go.
Please. If you want me to hear you out you have to listen to me, too.
Give me what I want.”

“
What
do you want?” Jeremy asked, a kind and seeking tone in his voice.

“
Space.”
And with that, she followed Miles, the click of the door behind her a
sweet, sweet sound.

Mike
looked at Jeremy and found his best friend staring at the door Lydia
had just closed, as forlorn as a puppy whose master has left for bed.

Pathetic.

Except
he felt the same way. The two turned and started the slow slog to
Mike’s car in the parking garage, Mike parsing out what, exactly,
he’d done wrong. Coming here had been a gamble, yes, but he’d
assumed he could stay hidden, at least until they’d figured
everything out with Lydia and could talk about how to explain the
truth to Lydia’s parents.

There
wasn’t a good truth, though. He’d been deceptive, and had no
right to their trust. His own naïveté hit him square between the
eyes as he and Jeremy found the car and climbed in.

The
Charles’ weren’t the gullible ones.

He’d
been deceiving himself the most.

Every
nerve, each muscle fiber and neuron, strained against his
ever-thinning impulse control to spin around of find her, claim her,
convince her, just—

Her.

Respect
dictated that he do what she had asked, and all he could do was show
her that he was capable of honoring her wishes. Overall, that seemed
to be what Lydia needed most.

And
what was so very hard to give.

“
We
blew that one, didn’t we,” Jeremy grumbled as Mike climbed in and
started his car.

“
What’s
this ‘we’ shit?”

“
You
hid at their family’s campground, lying about your identity, and
you think you didn’t screw this up big time?”

Shaking
his head as he pulled up to the garage’s exit point, he put his
ticket and credit card in the slot. “I don’t know,” he said
absent-mindedly.

“
Mr.
Unequivocally Certain is giving the ‘I don’t know’ bullshit
excuse now?”

“
If
I don’t know something, I’m man enough to admit it.”

“
Then
you’re a new man, because that wasn’t true two months ago.”

The
drive to his apartment was painfully silent.

What
the hell am I going to do with myself for a few days?
Jeremy
wondered. There wasn’t enough lobster, cheesecake, vodka and Lexi
Belle movies on the planet to waste that kind of time.

Mike
was grim. The drive was torture. He knew their friendship was
fine—they’d weathered worse, though generally that involved
Jeremy’s problems, not Mike and Jeremy’s shared problem.

Or,
so far, not-shared problem.

A
tiny voice keened inside, rocking in the corner of his subconscious,
terrified that Lydia would reject them both and this was the end. Not
facing that was why this was so hard. Sometimes our own mind is the
boogeyman. Nightmares come from within.

Fueled
and fed by worry and insecurity.

“
You
want to order Thai?” Mike asked, voice tight but not cold.

“
Sure.”

A
curt nod, a quick phone call, and then Mike went to his bedroom,
turning back before he went in. “You handle the take-out guy?”

Jeremy
patted his pockets, finding his wallet. “No problem.”

“
I’d
imagine a billionaire wouldn’t have a problem covering some satay
and noodles.”

Great.
This would be the meme for the next few days? Rubbing his money in
his face?

Where
was the lobster and the pay-per-view button?

“
I
can manage.” Mike’s voice held that commanding tone that Jeremy
hated. Bullshit dominant crap never made him defer, and you’d think
Mike would have figured that out by now, but he couldn’t help
himself. Too much at stake.

“
Apparently.”

Pushing
all the macho passive-aggressive crap aside, Jeremy took a good look
at his friend. Two days back in the city and he was tense. Both of
them were. What had Mike learned about himself this past month? How
were they able to morph into wanting Lydia and knowing that so
easily?

“
Let’s
cut through the bullshit. Are you going to be all right?”

Mike
almost continued through his doorway. Jeremy saw the hesitation, his
eyes taking in how parts of Mike’s back tensed, his shoulders
relaxing, a weird hybrid of emotional expression through skin and
muscle.

“
I
don’t know who I am anymore, Jeremy. How can I tell you what I’m
feeling?”

“
You
sound like Lydia.”

That
stopped him. “How do you know?”

Shrug.
“She talks to me.”

Mike
looked at him with a ragged expression of raw need. “I’m glad she
talks to one of us like that.”

And
then he really did shut the door.

It
would have hurt less if he’d slammed it, but instead Jeremy was
left to wait for the delivery guy in the echoing silence after a
single click, like a bullet sliding into a chamber.

The
nerve. What kind of person hides out at her parents’ campground for
a month in disguise, and then shows up at the hospital like that?

A
guy with balls of steel.

Or
Michael Bournham.

Why
did her heart have to do the jitterbug when she saw both Jeremy and
Mike there, together? As if figuring out what she wanted after last
night weren’t enough. Walking out of Mike’s apartment that
morning had been heart-wrenching. She’d nearly changed her mind,
wanting nothing more than to crawl back under the covers with him and
talk.

Talk?

More
than talk. But the words he’d spoken to her made life bloom,
opening to possibilities she found breathtakingly beautiful. He
wanted her. Needed her. And, maybe, loved her.

And
she loved him right back.

Jeremy,
too.

The
drive back to her grandma’s apartment gave her the blessed time to
think this through, Jeremy off with Mike and the whole family
convening at Madge’s place. As she made the familiar turn off
Cambridge Street she was grateful her parking sticker hadn’t
expired. Doubly grateful snow hadn’t fallen yet, making parking a
game of street Tetris.

As
she eased into a spot, glad for a tiny car, she climbed out and found
her mom, dad, Caleb, Miles, Ed, and Alex all clustered around Dad’s
car, with the distinct sound of a disgusted Madge yammering at them
all.

“
Get
away. All of you. I don’t need eight hands to help me climb out of
a sedan. If I’m going to have eight hands on me, they’d better be
attached to men wearing butt floss and dollar bills tucked in places
not meant for sunlight.”

“
Mom,”
Sandy groaned.

“
All
of you need to leave me here with Eddie and Lydia. She’ll take good
care me.”