Until It's Right

by Jamie Howard

  I wouldn’t call an hour that long of a drive, but okay. Lay it on thicker, Mom.

  Haley glances up at me and defers the decision. “We can stay if you want.”

  “Thank you, Haley.” Mom walks over to her, her slippers scuffing against the carpet. She gives Haley a quick squeeze. “You’re saving me some worry tonight. I’m just gonna get myself a glass of water; Kyle can show you up to his old room.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Lawson.”

  “Anytime. You’re always welcome here.”

  I sneak a glance at the couch and sigh. “Ma, are the extra blankets still in the upstairs linen closet? Or did you move them somewhere else?”

  She freezes halfway out the door. “Blankets? It’s not that cold upstairs.”

  “Right, but I’m gonna sleep on the couch.”

  “Kyle, dear, I’m not that big of a prude.” She laughs and flicks her fingers at me. “You live on your own. I’m well aware of this generation’s views on premarital sex. I mean really, your father and I—”

  “No, no.” I give my head a quick hard shake, nearly dislodging my glasses from my nose. “Stop right there.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Good night, you two.”

  “Good night, Mrs. Lawson,” Haley says, waving at her retreating back.

  I rub a hand up and down my arm. Christ, could this night get any worse? An idea snaps together in my mind—the floor. Once we’re upstairs and behind closed doors I’ll offer to sleep on the floor.

  Haley clears her throat. “You um, ready?”

  “Yup. Alright. Here we go.” I bite my tongue, forcing the words to stop falling out of my mouth and splatting at Haley’s feet. I take the stairs two at a time and take a right down the hallway. The doorknob is cold in my hand, and I lean my shoulder into the door to push it open. “This is it.”

  Her shoulder brushes against my chest as she steps through ahead of me. It’s not a big room, and practically nothing’s changed about it since high school. There’s a big bookcase in the corner, overflowing with books, and butted up right next to it is my desk with my old computer. Two blank monitors stare back at us, dull and lifeless. A dry-erase board hangs above it with various lines of code and notes to myself.

  Haley wanders over to the full-size bed and sinks down on it; I shove the door closed behind us. She smooths a hand over the navy comforter, and then leans forward, bending over to unzip her boots. Pressing her toes against the heel of her boot, she pushes and it slides onto the floor with a thunk. “Do you have something I can sleep in?”

  “There’s gotta be something here.” I rummage through my dresser, managing to find an old pair of shorts and a T-shirt for her. I take a T-shirt for myself too and a pair of pajama pants.

  She holds the clothes to her chest. “Can you … turn around?” Her finger rotates in a circle.

  “Of course, yeah.” I turn my back to her. “I’m gonna change too, so, just give me a minute.”

  I shuck off my socks and drop my jeans, bouncing from one foot to the other to hastily yank up my pajama pants. Leave it to me to wear purple boxer briefs today of all days.

  All of me is keenly aware that I’m half undressed and somewhere not five feet behind me Haley is also losing her clothes. Ripping my shirt up over my head, I dislodge my glasses and they thud to the floor.

  Dammit.

  Crouching down, I frisk the carpet for them, feeling across the floor like I’m patting it down. My hand hits my frames, and I push back to my feet to slip them on. When I glance over my shoulder, I find Haley watching me, sitting on the end of the bed with her feet tucked up against her butt and her lips pinched together like she’s trying to hide a smile.

  I straighten up, resisting the urge cross my arms over my bare chest to hide myself from her. I’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. You won’t be doing your laundry on my washboard abs anytime in the next century, but I’ve got a little bit of muscle definition working for me. “You peeked.”

  “Sorry.” She rests her chin on her knees and covers up her eyes with her hands. “Better?”

  I roll my eyes even though I know she can’t see me. “Well, it doesn’t matter now.”

  I tug the T-shirt down over my head and shift my shoulders so it settles in place. Running a hand through my hair, I say, “Sorry about my mom pressuring you into sharing a room with me tonight. I’ll just sleep on the floor and you can take the bed. Can you toss me a pillow?”

  Haley scoots up to the head of the bed. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re both adults here. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor.” Lifting the covers, she slips her legs underneath them. Not that I’m looking at them or anything. I’m definitely not taking note of how long and shapely they are. And my mind is not at all conjuring an image of those lovely, long legs wrapped around my waist. Nope. Not happening.

  “Besides,” she adds, “I’m going to be asleep in less than five minutes and I won’t even know you’re there.”

  Oh, well that’s not deflating my ego at all. Haley might not be conscious of me being in the bed, but hell if I won’t be supremely aware that she’s lying next to me. In my bed. Wearing my old shorts and a baggy T-shirt that gapes enough I can see the sharp edge of her collarbone. Sadly, present-day Kyle will be getting as little action as past Kyle did in this bed.

  She pats the mattress next to her. “C’mon, I won’t bite.”

  An image of Haley sinking her teeth into my earlobe sears itself across my brain. That is so not helping. Taking a second to flip off the light, I lower myself down onto the bed and crawl underneath the covers. I discard my glasses on the nightstand, then lie flat on my back, my arms pressed to my sides to ensure that no accidental touching is happening underneath the sheets. This is torture.

  A sliver of moonlight slices through a gap in the curtain, bathing the room in a pale blue light. Without my glasses, everything is blurry and indistinct, like colorful Rorschach blobs. Haley’s face appears in my peripheral vision, like she’s leaning up on an elbow and looking down at me. I have no idea what expression she’s wearing.

  “You look really different without your glasses.” A long blob moves like maybe she’s tucking her hair behind her ears. Quite possibly she could be giving me the finger and I wouldn’t have the slightest clue.

  I rotate my head on the pillow and squint up toward her. “Good different or bad different?”

  “Neither. Just different. I think…” She pauses and I consider reaching for my glasses so I can see what type of face she’s making. “I like the glasses. They suit you.”

  “Yup. Nerd with the glasses, that’s me.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” The bed bounces as she flops onto her back. “Being intelligent isn’t a bad thing.”

  “Yeah, let me tell you. As soon as the ladies find out my IQ they all just swoon at my feet.”

  The fabric of her pillow rustles like she’s shaking her head and a small sigh whispers out from between her lips.

  “Why did you do it?” I ask her.

  “Do what?”

  “Pretend to be my girlfriend tonight. Why not just tell my mom the truth?” My heart stutters in my chest as I wait for her answer.

  “So you are mad about that.”

  “Mad? No.” Why would she think I was mad about that? I shake my head and glance over at her. She’s still nothing but a blurry shape, but I think she’s got one arm draped over her head. Maybe. “A little surprised though.”

  “They seemed so happy to see me and meet me and that you brought someone home. And you had this look on your face like it was going to physically pain you to break the news to them.” She takes a breath. “You helped me out the other night, so I wanted to help you out too.”

  Right, she was repaying the favor.

  “They’re gonna be bummed when they find out you dumped me.”

  “I dumped you?” She laughs and the sound of it dances all over my skin. “It’s your family, feel free to make me the bad guy here.”
<
br />   I scoff. “They’d never believe it. There’s no way they’d buy that I’d dump you.”

  “Why not?”

  “C’mon, Haley. You’re you and I’m me. Everyone, including myself, is aware that you’re way out of my league.”

  She doesn’t say anything for a long time, and after a few minutes I’m almost convinced she’s fallen asleep. Her breathing is steady and even, and the warmth from her body creeps toward mine. The mattress groans as she rolls onto her side. I’m half tempted to copy her, and tuck her against my body. It’s probably lame of me, but the thought of my knees tucked under hers, her hair tickling my nose, sends a wave of longing crashing through me.

  That’s how I know I’ve got it bad for her. It isn’t just that she’s sexy as hell or how badly I’d love to bend her over my desk. I want the little things. I crave them. Falling for Haley is going to ruin me.

  Her breath caresses my cheek as she says, “Kyle?”

  I startle, realizing she rolled toward me instead of away. We’re practically nose-to-nose, and mere inches separate our lips. “Yeah?”

  Her fingers skim down my forearm underneath the covers, sweeping over my wrist until she finds my hand. “Thanks for today. For bringing me. For letting me be part of your family for a day. It’s…”

  She sucks in an unsteady breath and I squeeze her fingers in encouragement.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve really felt like I belonged somewhere.” Then she adds, almost too quietly for me to hear, “I missed it.”

  I know she means she felt like she was part of the family, but God, I wish so much that she meant that she felt like she belonged with me.

  Her breathing deepens and that’s when I know she’s asleep. But her fingers are still curled in mine and I want it to mean so much more than it does. The only problem is that I can’t tell if her hand in mine is the lifeline I’ve been waiting for, or the anchor that’ll drag me to the bottom and drown me.

  Chapter 15

  Haley

  My legs get tangled up in the sheets as I roll onto my back and force my eyes open. Sunlight streams through the window, lighting up the entire room. Glancing to the side, I find the bed empty and Kyle nowhere in sight.

  I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed. Tiptoeing to the door, I crack it open, but find the hallway empty as well. I creep down it and luckily have no problem finding the bathroom. Once I’m done with my morning business, which includes squirting a blob of toothpaste on my finger and trying to annihilate my morning breath, I scurry back to Kyle’s room to get dressed.

  After zipping up my boots, I fold the clothes he lent me and leave them on the foot of the bed. He’ll probably want to wash them, but it’s not in me to leave them in a pile on the floor. I pause and trail a finger over the comforter, my thoughts circling back to last night. There was more than one moment where I wanted to scoot closer to Kyle. Where I imagined his fingers tracing over my hip and him snuggling me into his chest. Where I had to fight against the urge to close the few inches between us and press my lips against his. To make matters worse, the dreams I was having last night were about as far from platonic as they could possibly get.

  With one last glance around the room, I head downstairs in search of people. The living room’s empty, but I find Kyle in the kitchen, a frying pan in one hand, a spatula in the other. A pair of red flannel pajama pants hugs his narrow hips, and his bare toes poke out from underneath them. His gray T-shirt is snug across his back, pulling tight as he reaches for the powdered sugar. I can’t help but appreciate how good he looks this morning, and I let my eyes drift down his body, lingering on all the best places.

  Having learned my lesson from yesterday, I keep my hands to myself and say, “Good morning.”

  He flicks a glance over his shoulder and raises the spatula in a wave. “Morning, Haley. You want anything for breakfast?”

  “Yeah, sure. Whatever you’re making.” I walk over to the kitchen table and take a seat.

  “French toast work for you?”

  “That works for me.”

  He turns his attention back to the stove, and the egg-soaked bread sizzles in the pan, the smell of cinnamon drifting toward me. My stomach lets out a hungry grumble as my eyes sweep around the kitchen. The walls are painted a bright yellow, like the color of sunflowers, and gauzy curtains surround sliding glass doors that lead out onto a deck. Beyond that I can see a manicured lawn and several deep blue and indigo hydrangeas.

  Turning my attention back to Kyle, I ask, “Have you been up long?”

  He shrugs. “A little while. Not too long.”

  “I didn’t … wake you up or anything, did I?” I can’t quite bring myself to ask him if I accidentally groped him in my sleep.

  The bread rotates in the air as he flips it. “Nope. Nothing like that. Just couldn’t sleep.”

  “Oh.” I pick at the small spot in my jeans that’s worn almost completely through. I’m going to have to buy a replacement pair soon. “Where’s everybody else?”

  He piles the French toast onto two plates and carries them over to me. “Brian went back to his place, and Mom and Teresa are at church. You want orange juice? Coffee?”

  “Orange juice would be great, thanks.”

  He’s back a second later with two tall glasses of OJ and a bottle of syrup. He uses it first, drizzling spirals on his French toast. When he passes it over to me, I’m less precise with my syrup application and squeeze out big globs onto the center of my bread.

  Using his fork, he slices into his breakfast. All of his attention is focused on it, like the only things that exist in the room are him and his plate. I start to wonder if maybe I really did do something in my sleep that he’s too nice to tell me about.

  Sliding a piece of French toast in my mouth, I let my gaze coast over his face. I follow the length of his long, straight nose down to his full lips, then back up to his warm hazel eyes and his bold, dark eyebrows. A flicker of attraction ignites in my chest. Kyle is cute and sweet, kind and funny. His family is amazing, and he passes all the guidelines I set out with flying colors. I’ve been a good sport and gone on three of Tara’s dates, but it hasn’t changed how I feel about him—I want this. I want him.

  Kyle’s eyes jump up and catch me staring. His eyes narrow behind the lenses of his glasses. “What?”

  I dip my gaze back to my plate, feeling my cheeks go scarlet. “Nothing.”

  When I cautiously look back up, he’s watching me so intently it’s like he’s burrowing into my brain and trying to dig out my thoughts. It’s actually a very similar look to the one his mom gave me when she found me on their porch.

  That thought snowballs into another one. “Can I ask you a … personal question?”

  His lips twist to the side. “Go for it.”

  “Have you always known you were adopted?”

  After hearing my question, his face relaxes and he pops another bite in his mouth. “Always. As long as I can ever remember.”

  “Have you ever met your birth mom?”

  He shakes his head and takes a second to swallow before he answers me. “No. It was a closed adoption so I don’t really know anything about her. I know she was a teenager when she had me, and not in a place where she could take care of me, so she gave me up.”

  “Does it bother you that she didn’t keep you?”

  “It used to a little, but not anymore. I mean, in the end she did what was best for me. I’ve had a great life, never missed out on anything.” He gives his head a little shake. “It’s probably going to sound crazy, but I’m not sure I’d even want to meet her. Not that I really could, but I don’t think I’d look for her given the chance. When it comes to family, I’ve got just about everything I could possibly want.”

  My stomach clenches, but I force my lips to curve up into a smile. “Well, having met your family, I’m not all that surprised.”

  “Yeah, I really lucked out.” His eyes go all warm and soft, like chocolate chips in just-o
ut-of-the-oven cookies.

  Seeing his reaction makes me feel like someone’s got their hand wrapped around my heart and won’t stop squeezing it. My family isn’t just a dark spot in my memory; they’re a secret I like to keep hidden, a shadow of my past that still makes me ache to talk about. Here Kyle is, spilling his guts to me, and all I could give him was the sugar-coated, glazed-over version of my “family emergency.” I’ve already tried building a relationship on secrets and half-truths, and I don’t want to make the same mistake with Kyle. If I want a chance at something real with him, I have to tell him.

  “My family hasn’t spoken to me in four years,” I blurt out.

  His fork freezes halfway to his mouth and then reverses, the small square of French toast uneaten and oozing syrup back onto his plate. “Why?”

  “It’s … complicated. We had a falling-out over college, and we didn’t see eye-to-eye on the situation.” I squeeze my eyes shut and blow out a breath. It’s the best I can do right now. I’m not quite ready to tell him the whole ugly truth. “The family emergency I had a couple weeks ago? It was my sister. She showed up at my ex’s, looking for me.” The hard edge of my fork digs into my palm as I fist my hand. “She’s graduating high school in a couple months, and a few months after that, she’ll be a mom.”

  “Wow.” Kyle leans back in his chair, running both hands through his hair. “I mean that’s not ideal or anything, but it’s good right? Her reaching out to you?”

  “I wish. But she wasn’t interested in patching things up with me. She just wanted money.”

  His eyes drop to his plate, and that gooey affection that’d been filling them earlier has been sucked out. I knew this would be a deal breaker for him, so I’m not sure why I’m surprised by the sharp pain that’s piercing my heart.

  Needing to escape it, I stand and walk my plate over to the garbage. After letting my uneaten French toast plop into the garbage, I flip on the sink to wash my plate.

  Footsteps pad toward me, and I can feel him hesitating behind me. “You don’t have to do that you know.”