Page 85 of Beneath Your Beautiful
I punched his arm, he punched me back, and we grinned at each other like two idiots. Then we got out of the Jeep and joined Eden on the sidewalk. Being Eden, she welcomed him with open arms and told him how happy she was he came home. She said all the things I’d wanted to say to Connor, but didn’t—couldn’t.
* * *
I unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Laughter and music drifted from the kitchen and I stopped in the hallway, listening. I didn’t know what Eden cooked but whatever it was, it made this crappy house smell like a home. It felt like a home. All because she was in it. I didn’t know what to do with this feeling, so I walked back out the door I’d just entered and stood on the front steps. Warehouses lined the street across from me, their corrugated metal doors closed for the night. The old water tower rose up behind them, next to a derelict eight-story warehouse with burnt-out windows. Out here, it smelled like burnt rubber and motor oil. Inside, it smelled like home.
I took a few deep breaths and went back inside.
“Killian?” Eden called. She walked into the hallway, barefoot in a little blue cotton dress, loose waves of blonde hair falling around her shoulders. Her face lit up with a smile just for me, and it felt like someone sucker punched me in the stomach. She jumped into my arms and I caught her, holding on tight as she wrapped her legs around my waist. Eden held my face in her hands and peered into it, seeing too much, as usual. “Hey. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I forced a smile. I wasn’t okay, but I didn’t know how to articulate what I was feeling. She wouldn’t understand why happiness scared me. In my life, whenever anything had gone well, I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. It always did. But maybe this time it would be different. Connor was home, he wasn’t using, and Eden and I were on our way to something so good I didn’t have a word for it.
“I hope you like lasagna,” she said. “I also made salad and brownies, but Connor ate half the tray of brownies.”
“She wouldn’t let me touch the lasagna until you got home,” Connor yelled from the kitchen. “So, get your ass in here. I’m starving.”
Eden laughed and kissed me on the lips. She slid out of my arms, took my hand in hers and led me into the kitchen. The island was set for dinner with two wine glasses, and water for Connor.
“Eden did all the laundry.” Connor grabbed a cucumber slice from the salad and tossed it into his mouth.
“What do you mean byallthe laundry?” I asked.
“Hers, mine, yours. All of it.”
“I don’t want you to do our laundry.”
“Sit down and be quiet,” Eden said, dishing up the lasagna.
I pulled up a stool across from Connor. “What were you doing while she cooked and did all the laundry?”
“Connor helped me,” Eden said, setting a plate of lasagna in front of me.
Connor shook his head no.
“You carried the grocery bags. And helped me shop. And you kept me company.”
“And he ate half the fucking brownies,” I grumbled.
“You don’t even eat brownies,” Eden said, sitting next to me.
“Not the point.”
“Nobody’s ever taken care of Killian. He doesn’t know how to handle it,” Connor said, shoveling a huge bite of lasagna into his mouth.
He wasn’t lying about the drugs. When Connor was doing drugs, he didn’t eat like he was starving. And he was right. I didn’t know how to handle it.
Eden poured wine into my glass and gave Connor an apologetic smile.
“I told you it was okay,” he said. “Really. I don’t even like wine.”
It was probably true. Alcohol had never been his problem.
Eden nudged my arm. “Eat your dinner and drink some wine. And get used to it. I like doing things for you.”
Connor grinned at me. “Eden is the best thing that ever happened to you.”
She laughed like it was a joke, but Connor wasn’t joking. It was the truth.
After the night she cooked for me and Connor, Eden was pretty much living with us. Her shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel lived in our shower, her toothbrush in the holder, her makeup and perfume on my dresser top, her clothes in a duffel bag on my bedroom floor. After four days of watching her dig through her bag to find clothes, I cleared space in my closet and gave her one of my dresser drawers. She unpacked her things and put them away. We’d never discussed this new living arrangement, but she knew I worried about leaving Connor on his own every night and I wanted to spend my nights with her.
