Page 71 of Reading Between the Lines
Diem paced and processed.
Giving up trying to get him to do anything else, knowing he would come around on his own, I left him to his devices. At least he wasn’t smoking and drinking. Those were sure signs his anxiety was in the danger zone, and a phone call to Dr. Petersonor a trip to the gym was in order. All in all, he was doing well. Progress.
To keep busy, I used his iPad to investigate the goings on around small-town Port Hope, itching to find details about the case I’d seen at the police department earlier. But, of course, I found nothing. I pulled up the school’s website, but other than a recap on how their sports teams were doing, the content didn’t interest me. Then, I looked up the kennel, curious if I’d find anything about the creepy man we’d run into in the woods. Nicholas’s father. What had he been doing out there?
Better question. What had Weston been doing out there when he was supposed to be in town at a meeting with the newspaper crew? I thought of the cabin Diem had discovered and Nicholas’s proclamation that teens often took to the woods to smoke pot, drink alcohol, or indulge in clandestine sexy times if the weather was nice.
And if the weather wasn’t nice? I was sixteen once, and finding random secret places to fuck was a skill only a horny teenager possessed. The weather this time of year was shitty, and if Weston had been with Londyn…
“Hey, D.”
He grunt-growled but didn’t stop pacing.
“Did you see inside the cabin?”
“No. I was looking down the barrel of a rifle instead.”
“Nicholas suggested that the twins lived in a property that might butt against the trail. I was thinking. What if Weston and Londyn weren’t at the library. What if they were having a secret rendezvous of the kinky variety in a cabin in the woods that just so happened to belong to Londyn’s family?”
Diem stopped pacing and stared into the middle distance for a few minutes as though processing the suggestion.
“It might explain why Weston was out there to begin with.”
He grunt-nodded and resumed pacing as though it wasn’t an insightful discovery. “Balls,” I muttered. “We’ll revisit my brilliance tomorrow when you’re more agreeable.”
Diem clearly couldn’t focus on anything except the problem at hand. The bed. Me. Us.
I shut down the iPad and found my phone, messaging Memphis instead. Waiting Diem out was a lesson in patience. Some days, I had loads to spare. Other days, I wanted to shake him because in what universe did taking your boyfriend to bed become a complicated affair? While chatting with my best friend, the bull paced and processed and paced and processed.
Messages from Memphis grew further apart, so I scrolled my socials, peeking up now and again to check on Diem. At some point, I must have drifted to sleep because the next thing I knew, I awoke to someone removing my glasses.
“Don’t want you to break them.” Diem’s voice came out low and husky.
Cloaked in darkness, illuminated by a single slanting shaft of moonlight, I studied the wariness on Diem’s face.
“Get under the covers. Your skin’s cold,” he said.
“Are you done pacing?”
No answer.
I didn’t have the energy to banter or tease, so I rolled when he encouraged me to roll. He tugged the covers from under me and pulled them to my chin. I’d stripped to my underwear earlier and was grateful for the blanket, not realizing how chilled I’d become.
“Lay with me, D.” I invited him inside my cocoon of warmth.
He grumbled and grunted something I didn’t understand but stretched out beside me with less resistance than I expected. He was mostly dressed, but at least he’d removed his jeans. I wormed closer, seeking his warmth. He didn’t shy away, but I sensed his immediate discomfort.
I snuck a hand under his shirt and ran my fingers through his chest hair.
“Cuddle me.”
“I don’t cuddle.”
“Don’t give me that shit. Cuddle me.”
I waited, and it took two or three minutes for him to comply, but he rolled and tugged me into his arms. Burying his nose in my hair, he inhaled, then exhaled with a sigh.
“It’s not so bad, huh? Someday, maybe you’ll be able to do this without taking the finish off the floor first.”
