Page 72 of Unforgivable

He never did. That gorgeous little shit had me entertained from the second I got in the car up until I went to bed around midnight. The hour we'd been apart for us to refresh and unpack had sucked and I'd practically raced downstairs to hang out with him and hisgrandmother. I mean, who the fuck was I even becoming? Did Callum Hawkins seem like the kind of man who enjoyed spending time with a sweet, rambling nerd and his food-peddling grandma? Hell no. Who's buying that story?

But fuck, it was all I had wanted and more. It was fun being with Rhys and Gran, just shooting the shit and playing board games last night. Gran was funny and sharp-witted and it had been almost as easy to talk to her as it was Rhys. I hadn't experienced that instant feeling of belonging in God knows how long, but that was the only way to describe it. I hadn't felt like just a guest, but rather like I belonged here with them. It felt like coming home.

That thought was too intense for my brain without caffeine, so I rolled out of bed and shuffled downstairs. As I rounded the kitchen, Gran came into view seated at the breakfast nook by the window. She didn't look like a typical grandmother, younger than you'd expect her to be. With her still blonde bouffant hair and wide bright smile, she sort of reminded me of Jessica Lange inAmerican Horror Story,but without being all stabby and shit. She had a comforting air that drew you in and had you wanting to tell her anything. I could see why Rhys considered her his best friend. The woman was awesome. Plus she kicked my ass at Chinese checkers, but that was decidedly less awesome.

“Well, 'bout time you joined the land of the living, sunshine. I was beginning to wonder if you fell into a coma or something up there,” Gran remarked, sipping her coffee happily while reading a book with some raunchy cover on it.

“What time is it?” I asked, curious just how late I'd slept.

“Almost nine thirty. You're wastin' the best part of the day. All the best stuff happens in the mornin',” she replied.

I couldn't hold back my disbelieving snort. “It's still morning! I didn't even sleep in that late. And in my experience, the best stuff usually happens more at night.”

She peered over her reading glasses at me, eyebrows raised and pinning me with a knowing look. “I can only guess what good things you think happen at night, mister. When you're older, you'll realize that I'm right and you're wrong about this. It's a gift that comes with age. Now, you want coffee or don't ya?”

A smile broke out on my face as I made my way to the coffee pot, her sass just as intriguing as Rhys'. Speaking of…

“What about Rhys? I don't see you giving him a hard time about sleeping inoh so late,” I teased her, and she smirked at me smugly.

“That boy woke up about an hour ago and is grabbin' coffee with his friend Laura. He should be back around ten. See? If you'd been up and at 'em earlier, you could have gone with. But pity for you, you're stuck here with me.”

“Eh, that's a pretty decent consolation prize. Also you've got the only thing I need right here.” I raised my mug to emphasize my point and sat down across from her. “Wait, Laura? Isn't that the nurse from when he…”

“One and the same. Rhys always makes time to see her for a bit when he's up here. I can only imagine what he's tellin' her about you,” Gran chirped, peeking up at me from her book.

I choked on the giant sip I had taken, my eyes widening at her. “What do you mean by that? Why would he tell her anything about me?”

She let out a deep chuckle, shaking her head as if I was missing something completely obvious. “Honey, she and Rhys are as thick as thieves, and the one thing he has always gone to her with, without fail, is his love life. From what I witnessed yesterday, I'd bet my Sunday pearls that you're the topic of conversation with them right now.”

I blanched, unsure of how to feel about that. A spark of happiness hit me, thinking that could be a sign that Rhys had me on his mind as much as he'd been on mine. But there was that whisper of dread that he could be complaining to her about all I had done, sharing with her how much of a mistake I was.

“It may not be that great of a conversation then,” I mumbled into my coffee cup.

“Now why would you say that?” Gran asked, head cocked slightly as she took me in.

That was definitely not something I wanted her to know about. She'd probably kick me out of the house without giving me time to pack if she knew mine and Rhys' history. “Uh, no reason. There's just not much to say about us, that's all,” I deflected.

“Ah. I thought it might have had something to do with that…misunderstanding you two had over Thanksgivin'?” She locked eyes with me and I froze in my seat, fearing the worst.

“You…Rhys told you about the lakehouse?…”

“He didn't give me all the specifics, but he told me enough. Youdone messed up good, huh?” She snickered, and I relaxed a fraction at the patient look she was giving me.

I let out a deep breath, sagging in my seat. “Yeah, you could say that. God, I can't believe I was such a prick…I mean, jerk to him. I still don't really know why I was like that with him.”

“Well, I have a theory about that, but you probably won't like it.” She sipped her drink noisily.

“Why do I get the distinct impression that you're going to tell me even if I begged you not to?” I guessed, narrowing my gaze at her.

“Because you're not as stupid as you look,” she deadpanned, and I barked out a laugh. “Now pipe down. I'm gonna tell you my theory. Now, I don't know too much about your life because Rhys isn't one to run his mouth about things that ain't his business. But from what little I gathered, you're used to being angry and closed off because you stay in control that way, and when we're in control we feel less pain. Rhys was takin' the control from you and makin' you feel things you weren't used to feelin'. How am I doin' so far?”

I could only sit and stare at her, this woman who was reading me as clearly as she was the book in her hands. I was either way too transparent or Rhys had told her more than I thought he would. She continued when I stayed silent.

“You might be surprised, but I've seen this tale play out before. I can recognize a hurt soul when I see one. Rhys' daddy, my Everett, he was one to push people away and hide in his anger too. When he lost his father right after high school, it changed him. Alice did her best to comfort him and be there for him, but Everett was so lost. His father was his twin flame, those two were the same person in a different body. He just couldn't see a way out of his grief. I'm guessing you know what that's like.” Her shrewd gaze flayed me open, every word she said was like it had been torn from my own thoughts.

“It got to a real bad point with him and Alice. Everett was doing everything he could to avoid feeling anything, and of course, Alice brought up everything in him. Love has a funny way of doing that. It shines a light on every corner of us, giving us nowhere to hide. That terrified my son, and he almost lost the love of his life because of it. People can only take being pushed so far, you know? Don't let that happen to you and Rhys. You'll have more regret than you could live with if that happens,” she told me, tone firm yet gentle.

“It's—Rhys and I aren't like that. We're just friends,” I forced out, but the lie tasted like ash on my tongue.

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