Page 194 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“I thought you were Brody.”
“I gathered.”
“Sorry. I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t—I wasn’t expecting you.”
I shrug. “You know what Kate said about what happens when you go dark for a couple hours. Someone’s liable to show up on your porch.”
He lets out a little huff of laughter. “I guess I should have seen that coming.”
Perry is wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt, and his feet are bare, and he is so achingly handsome, I almost want to forget why I drove all the way over here and throw myself into his arms. “Can I come in?”
He nods and pushes the door open, and I cross through the entryway into the living room.
The inside of Perry’s house is more the house I expected to find. Simple, modern furniture. Clean lines. It has the sameelegance of his office, and I recognize how easily I could feel at home here, even if it isn’t exactly his house.
“I texted Olivia to get your address. I hope that’s okay.”
Perry runs a hand through his hair. “Of course. I guess it’s weird you haven’t been here yet, but . . .” He holds his hands out the slightest bit. “This is it.”
“When I pulled up, I thought I’d found the wrong place. The outside looks like a gingerbread house.”
This makes him smile the tiniest bit, and the tension around my heart eases. Still, it would ease more if I could go to him. Feel his arms around me. Take whatever is making him distant and throw it out the window.
“Can I get you anything? Something to drink?” he asks.
I shake my head no. “I’m okay.”
“Do you want to sit?”
This is stupid. We both know I didn’t come over here to sit and chat. He just needs to talk to me. “Perry, can you please tell me what happened this morning? I know something happened. You got so quiet, and then you gave me a lame excuse about going back to the farm, and I can just tell something’s wrong. I’ve been worried about you all day.”
Perry’s gaze drops to the floor, his hands propped on his hips. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he finally says.
“Start with the breakfast.”
He looks up but doesn’t move closer. “What did Jack tell you?”
“Bits and pieces? Something about butter on his pancakes and bribing a kid on the playground? I’d love to hear your version though.”
He scoffs. “No, that about sums it up.”
“Perry, come on. What’s going on?”
He’s quiet for so long, I almost wonder if he’s forgotten I’m here. He’s turned away from me now, his arms over his head and gripping the top of the door frame leading into what looks likehis bedroom. It’s not a bad view, what with the way his muscles are bunching under his shirt, but I’m too distracted to enjoy it for long.
Finally, Perry turns around. “Lila, I’m not sure I can do this.”
I close my eyes and press my palms flat against my legs, forcing air into my lungs and out again. I’m suddenly afraid I might actuallystopbreathing if I don’t think about doing it. “I think I need you to explain a little more than that,” I say simply.
And then Perry is across from me, sitting on the ottoman, his expression serious. “It was awful.Iwas awful. We got there late because all the empty parking spaces were on the street and that felt too dangerous for Jack. And then I forgot to get him silverware and milk, and I buttered his pancakes, and I got syrup in my shoe, and I didn’t know who his teacher was and had to wait in line with all the deadbeat dads who didn’t know so I could ask the admin lady where to find him. And then a kid was bullying him on the playground, and I didn’t know how to help. I didn’t know how to stop it from happening.”
He stands up and starts pacing around the room. “Jack needs steady, consistent discipline, Lila, and I don’t know anything about how to provide that. How can I discipline a kid if I can’t even stay married?”
Okay.So there’s a lot to unpack here. But first of all, Jack needs steady, consistent discipline? I’m guessing that isn’t something Perry came up with on his own.
“Were you talking to someone about Jack’s discipline?” I ask, already feeling defensive.
“Only Ms. Kennedy. When she scolded me for suggesting Jack bribe a kid to give up his swing.”
