into the back of the kitchen and it was another reminder of how tiny her house was. It looked like a small log cabin from the driveway, well...and from the inside, too. The only thing that helped it be less claustrophobic was the tall A-Frame ceiling. But there seemed to be a bathroom and bedroom door behind the kitchen. Small, but efficient.
There was a narrow living room with mismatched leather furniture, a kitchen tucked under a tiny loft, and it was apparently a home that held a kid.
“Hey, Jonah,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. My friend came up from California. We’ll try to be more quiet, okay?”
Jonah nodded.
She pulled him into a tight hug, and the kid turned back into his room.
“Auntie, huh?” Chris asked his mind still spinning.
Corinne’s expression was pained. “His mom was… This falls under the things I don’t talk about.”
He wondered if coming up had pushed them even farther apart than she’d tried to keep him in California...well, aside from the sex… His eyes floated over her body briefly before his mind caught back up to their conversation.
“Can we not be friends?” Chris asked.
“I have a bad track record,” Corinne answered and their eyes locked.
What did that mean? Was she seriously telling him she didn’t even want a friend ? He lost his breath and he could feel the twitching start in his fingertips.
The teapot whistled. She jumped. Chris jumped. He shouldn’t have come. His gaze floated toward the door, but he’d come so far. He wasn’t ready to leave.
Chris sat down and began scanning the photos on the wall in silence. A woman who looked similar to Corinne posed on the grass with a much younger version of the boy he’d just seen. She stood with a man who was almost definitely her husband. A few of the kid at various ages. One of Corinne with her probably-sister. A picture of Corinne’s arms around a clean cut guy in a police uniform, and he wondered just how much he might have screwed up by sleeping with her. Were they together?
When she sat, she sat in the middle of the couch instead of at the end furthest from him and immediately pulled her knees to her chest, handing him his tea, and clutching hers on her knees.
“Are you okay?” He fingered the pottery mug.
Her dark eyes settled on him, framed by thick lashes and the wild curly hair he’d buried his face in, brushed off her neck, her back…
“I think I should be asking you that question?”
He breathed in the sweet, spicy smell of his drink and wished he knew what to tell her. “I know you’re a private person, and you’ve made it very clear that you’re not interested in us being friends or getting to know each other. I’ve shown up at your house, I’ve invaded your privacy, and by sitting in this comfortable room and holding this cup of tea you’ve made for me, I feel like… I think I chose wrong.”
“Set that aside for a moment.” She took another sip of her tea. “Does this feel like where you should be right now?”
In a strange sort of way, it did. It was so removed from his life to be here, that it did feel like where he should be. Chris didn’t rush his answer, but instead took a long swallow of the hot milky tea and thought.
“I hoped to stick around. I’d like to be here, around you, and not feel hopelessly pathetic. I guess I’m hoping that spending more time with you will rub off on me and I’ll be able to keep writing. I don’t want to give up on my solo career before it’s even started.”
She rested her hand on his arm, still hot from her mug. “You’re in the right place then, but Chris…”
He wasn’t sure how he’d handle it if she told him to go. “No buts. Please.”
She laughed softly. “I’m private. I just am. I have to protect myself. I work odd hours teaching yoga. Jonah lives here. When I’m not teaching yoga I’m cutting wood or helping my parents who are endlessly clueless about simple things like sending email and my friend Heather drops
There was a narrow living room with mismatched leather furniture, a kitchen tucked under a tiny loft, and it was apparently a home that held a kid.
“Hey, Jonah,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. My friend came up from California. We’ll try to be more quiet, okay?”
Jonah nodded.
She pulled him into a tight hug, and the kid turned back into his room.
“Auntie, huh?” Chris asked his mind still spinning.
Corinne’s expression was pained. “His mom was… This falls under the things I don’t talk about.”
He wondered if coming up had pushed them even farther apart than she’d tried to keep him in California...well, aside from the sex… His eyes floated over her body briefly before his mind caught back up to their conversation.
“Can we not be friends?” Chris asked.
“I have a bad track record,” Corinne answered and their eyes locked.
What did that mean? Was she seriously telling him she didn’t even want a friend ? He lost his breath and he could feel the twitching start in his fingertips.
The teapot whistled. She jumped. Chris jumped. He shouldn’t have come. His gaze floated toward the door, but he’d come so far. He wasn’t ready to leave.
Chris sat down and began scanning the photos on the wall in silence. A woman who looked similar to Corinne posed on the grass with a much younger version of the boy he’d just seen. She stood with a man who was almost definitely her husband. A few of the kid at various ages. One of Corinne with her probably-sister. A picture of Corinne’s arms around a clean cut guy in a police uniform, and he wondered just how much he might have screwed up by sleeping with her. Were they together?
When she sat, she sat in the middle of the couch instead of at the end furthest from him and immediately pulled her knees to her chest, handing him his tea, and clutching hers on her knees.
“Are you okay?” He fingered the pottery mug.
Her dark eyes settled on him, framed by thick lashes and the wild curly hair he’d buried his face in, brushed off her neck, her back…
“I think I should be asking you that question?”
He breathed in the sweet, spicy smell of his drink and wished he knew what to tell her. “I know you’re a private person, and you’ve made it very clear that you’re not interested in us being friends or getting to know each other. I’ve shown up at your house, I’ve invaded your privacy, and by sitting in this comfortable room and holding this cup of tea you’ve made for me, I feel like… I think I chose wrong.”
“Set that aside for a moment.” She took another sip of her tea. “Does this feel like where you should be right now?”
In a strange sort of way, it did. It was so removed from his life to be here, that it did feel like where he should be. Chris didn’t rush his answer, but instead took a long swallow of the hot milky tea and thought.
“I hoped to stick around. I’d like to be here, around you, and not feel hopelessly pathetic. I guess I’m hoping that spending more time with you will rub off on me and I’ll be able to keep writing. I don’t want to give up on my solo career before it’s even started.”
She rested her hand on his arm, still hot from her mug. “You’re in the right place then, but Chris…”
He wasn’t sure how he’d handle it if she told him to go. “No buts. Please.”
She laughed softly. “I’m private. I just am. I have to protect myself. I work odd hours teaching yoga. Jonah lives here. When I’m not teaching yoga I’m cutting wood or helping my parents who are endlessly clueless about simple things like sending email and my friend Heather drops
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