by Mia Josephs
Chris watched her for any sign that his words had affected her.
Her face softened. “Quite a confession.”
“Yeah...well…” He ran his hand through his hair again. “You’ve been just… I don’t even know how to explain how amazing you’ve been, so it throws me when you say we’re not friends. And I’m sorry if one night together makes you uncomfortable, but it doesn’t make me uncomfortable, and you’ve made it very clear we’re not going there again.” Chris was out of words and exhausted with feeling pathetic.
Corinne rested her fingertips on her eyelids for a moment before pulling in a long breath. “We’re friends, Chris, but I don’t trust you.”
Right. And why should she? Especially after his idiotic confession. “Smart move.”
“So.” A corner of her mouth kicked up in a half smile. “Tea?”
“Thanks.” For a million things he had no idea how to voice.
SEVEN
Corinne’s teeth ground together in her mother’s carefully wallpapered office. The sun reflected off the pale green pattern and the picture-perfectness of it infuriated her more. She stared at the photos on her mom’s computer screen as if they would save her from the conversation.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she knew it would most likely be Heather, dying for a longer explanation than what Corinne had relayed in a text. Now was not the time.
“The whole situation of this man in your house just seems—”
Curse Chris for answering the phone. “Mom, for the hundredth time, he’s only here for a couple days to solidify some lyrics.” Corinne attached the photos to the email so her mom could show her brother the addition to their already over-sized house.
Rose ran her fingers through her black hair, tucking in the straight, loose strands. Any trace of their Mexican heritage had been weeded out long before Corinne came along. “That seems like something one could do over the phone.” Her fingers fiddled with the buttons on her white blouse.
Of course it was. Of course they could have tried, but for someone whose creative side rested solely within the realm of home decorating, her mother wouldn’t understand. Corinne settled with, “This works better.”
Her mother shifted in her chair, ran hands over her wool trousers and re-crossed her legs.
She generally felt like a scrub in her mother’s overly preened home, but it was something she should have been used to.
“I just don’t want to see my girl hurt again.”
Corinne spun in the chair. “Can we not talk about my life as a series of screw-ups? Just for today? Please?”
The two women stared at one another for a moment before Corinne’s mother stood and once again smoothed her hands over her blouse and slacks. “Thank you for your help with the pictures. Everything on my computer changed when your father insisted on updating the software.”
Releasing a breath, Corinne grabbed a handful of thick curls and slipped an elastic over her hair, sliding it into a messy ponytail.
“You know…” her mother trailed off and Corinne stood, waiting for the next life lesson.
“The lady who does my hair could probably straighten yours with that perm solution, and—”
“I like my curly hair, Mom.” She stepped around her mother suddenly wishing she hadn’t worn her holey jeans but her nice pair. “I need to pick up Jonah.”
“Corinne,” her mother scolded. “There’s no need to get all huffy because I’m trying to look out for you. Life would be so much easier if you weren’t doing all of this alone.”
She bit down to keep from screaming. She hadn’t wanted to do this alone. An asshole who didn’t want his son wasn’t part of her plan. Her soon to be husband, sister and brother-in-law dying in a plane accident, also hadn’t been part of her plan. John had accepted her, faults and all, and there weren’t words for how she sometimes missed him, loved him and felt the loss of the sense of stability he provided.
At that moment, all she wanted to do was curl up in front of the fire and have Christian Meyer play for her. But first she had to figure out how to answer Heather as to what on earth was happening at her house so she could actually relax when she got there.
Chris hit end on the call with his sponsor and slid lower into the couch in front of the fire. Iris’ words weren’t exactly what he wanted to hear. Yes, it was good that he was thinking less about getting high, but making that relaxed sobriety dependent on Corinne wasn’t healthy, blah, blah, blah…
Life felt easier around Corinne, and that was something he didn’t want to let go of, no matter what his sponsor had to say. He’d done dishes that morning. Spent a few minutes sliding shoes back onto the small shelves near the door, and the whole time he felt good, like what he did was going to impact someone else’s life in a positive way. A simple way. He knew that Jonah would come home soon, and Corinne would probably be back any minute. It was all their routine, and being a part of it felt like he belonged.
He’d also gotten the new songs close enough that he wanted to really sit down and play for Corinne. Have her help with some of the less interesting rhymes and riffs, and see that he could write on his own. Though…he might save the one for another time.
Max’s name flashed on his phone for probably the fifth time, and Chris held his thumb over the answer button for a moment before finally touching the screen. “Max, what’s up?” he asked in his best, easy voice.
“Um… How about you didn’t check into your hotel? Or how about this being the first call of mine you’ve answered in three days? Where the fuck are you, Chris?”
“I love you, too, Max.”
“I’m serious. Look. I’m your friend, but only because I’ve known you for so long. You can’t put me in this position. Are we moving forward? What are we? Where are you? And what’s happening with music?”
“I’m awesome. Promise. I have a few lyrics to smooth over and some new riffs I’m playing with. But the album is going to be solid. Exactly what I envisioned.” He sat up, letting his feet fall to the floor. “How about I find a good studio near here, and lay down a few tracks. Make them as clean as I can and see if Don can work some magic, cool?”
“Where is here, Chris?” Max asked slowly and Chris cringed. Max would tear him a new one if he knew Chris had gone around his back and found Corinne.
Corinne’s old truck bounced up the gravel driveway and Chris stood, moving to the window, his whole chest had expanded with her arrival. He’d have never guessed a person could have this effect on him. “I gotta go.”
“Where are you?” Max demanded.
“I’m-in-Washington-with-Corinne-don’t-kill-me-we’ll-talk-soon. You’re breaking up Max!” Chris shouted and hit End Call just as Corinne stepped in the door with a smile.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered as he let his shoulders fall with the calm feeling he got around this gorgeous woman. “I’m absolutely fantastic.”
“Well…” She raised a brow. “That’s good because my mom stresses me out, and—”
“I’m sorry.” He frowned. Corinne had said she had people and he’d assumed that she had to be tight with her family. “Answering the phone… I just wasn’t thinking.”
“Oh.” She waved him off. “It’s fine. She’s just particular. Watching out for me. The normal stuff.”
The way Corinne shoved her light jacket onto her hook on the wall told him that it probably hadn’t been normal stuff.
“Heather left two messages, but I’ve learned my lesson.” He held his hands up. “No answering.”
Corinne pressed her fingers into her eyes. “Yeah. You can imagine Heather is deathly curious about why you’re here.”
“I got a call from Max, which makes me think you’ll probably be getting a call as well.” Chris grimaced.
Corinne shrugged. “I realized when I was almost home that I left my phone at Mom’s house. She’ll either bring it up here tonight, or I’ll drive down to Seattle in the morning to pick it up.�
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“I wanted to run some music by you tonight if you’re up for it. Heather’s welcome to come. This is your house. I’m sure I’ve overstayed.” But he clamped his mouth shut not ready to give Corinne a reason to agree that he should maybe leave.
A brow cocked. “Maybe I’ll ask Heather to pick up Thai food on her way home. But I’ll warn you, if she’s here after her kids crash, she might snuggle you to sleep.”
Chris laughed. “And this is the woman whose husband is...overseas? I think you mentioned that in California.”
Corinne moved in a smooth walk to the kitchen—shoulders straight, back straight, relaxed face. She probably had no idea she walked like a dancer.
“He’s a contractor. Not military. Gone a lot.” She pulled open her small pantry door and stared.
He watched her, Corinne feeling like less of a stranger with every bit of time they spent together. He’d never thought so much about someone else in this way. Wanting to know all the details of their life. And he’d certainly never been in the position of wanting to know all those things, when the person wanted to share nothing.
“I forgot. PTA meeting tonight. Heather won’t make it.” She sighed. “I’ll have to find another time to catch her up.” She mumbled almost as if he weren’t there.
“Can I do something for you?” he asked.
“Sorry.” She shoved her hands through her hair and leaned against the doorframe. “It always takes me a while to relax again after my parents’ house.”
“I thought…” He swallowed unsure if he should continue. He never worried about what came out of his mouth until he became sober. Now… Constant struggle. “I thought you said you have people.”
He watched her face go flat.
Damn. He’d lost her again.
“How about we play?” he suggested, leaning forward a little too far, holding his breath waiting for her to respond.
She started for the door again, shaking out her hands.
What just happened?
“I need to get Jonah from the bus stop.”
“Hey, Corinne.” He half-jumped over the back of the couch. “Let me get Jonah. End of your insanely long driveway, right?”
She paused and nodded, watching Chris with curious eyes.
“Why don’t you take a long, hot, shower. I’ll get Jonah and we’ll…” What exactly? “Um… He’ll want a snack or something, right?”
“You don’t have to—”
He touched her arm, needing to do something to take care of her—a feeling he hadn’t felt since he could remember. “Please. He’s a cool kid. I can handle him for the length of a shower.”
“Yeah.” Corinne let out a breath. “That would actually be great. I have to get my head on straight or...something.”
The conversation with her mom played through her head and then as she stripped and stood in the shower, she saw flashes of her night with Chris. Lips on her neck. Sliding across her collarbone. Steady hands guiding her body into the kind of perfect orgasm she wasn’t likely to repeat. The warmth of him next to her as they slept. The papers strewn over the floor on his side of the bed…
And then she shook off her night with him because that would lead her nowhere good, and wondered what she was going to tell her friend. Corinne definitely had to get her head on straight.
After dressing she wandered downstairs and smelled dish soap.
Chris had done dishes. She couldn’t even remember the last time someone else had done dishes for her. And why did it have to feel sexy that he’d done them?
Corinne had to stop. As over-cautious as she was, she wasn’t sure how to even be friends with Chris, much less attempt a repeat of California. She’d have never slept with him if she thought she was going to see him again.
She watched as he walked down her driveway—very much misplaced in her world of gravel driveways, trees and solitude.
Her mom didn’t normally upset her this much. And usually Heather was her sounding board for everything. And the sex-thoughts. Those weren’t like her either.
Maybe she agreed with her mother. It was weird that this guy she barely knew just showed up on her porch. At the same time, he looked...lighter than he had when he first arrived. Just offering to pick up Jonah at the end of the driveway—something so simple—showed he was thinking outside of himself. She really did have him in a box of what she thought he was, but maybe that’s not who he was. Maybe he was something more.
Self-preservation had taught her a lot, and she had to remember all the million reasons why he was a bad idea. She could let herself be happy that she was helping a fellow artist get back on his feet. And it could stop there. They could find a way to be some kind of friends. She knew he wanted that much at least.
Okay. Chris was here. He was writing. He probably had some kind of plan. She’d just let his stay at her house play out, and then maybe they’d stay in contact and maybe they wouldn’t. She knew exactly how insane the final weeks before tour were, as well as the chaos that being on tour could be.
Corinne smiled as Chris and Jonah walked inside. Her mind still spinning, she gave Jonah a hug, and Chris immediately brought Jonah to the table where he’d made up his snack. She watched Chris and Jonah sitting together with Oreos and a stack of paper at the small table, glanced over at the clean kitchen, and the mess of shoes and discarded coats from her morning, once again resting against the wall… Her legs went weak with the thought of she wasn’t doing everything alone. That was a far too dangerous thought for her to settle into.
Routine.
Relax.
Stop over-analyzing.
She moved upstairs, wanting to do a quick wipe-down of her bathroom before Chris used it that night. Tried not to think about his naked body standing under the water. When she emerged from the small room, voices carried up from downstairs.
“No, no, of course it’s great that you stopped in,” Chris said, and Corinne stopped. Heather?
“Just came to drop off Corinne’s cell phone.”
Oh. Shit.
“I’m sure this whole situation feels a little...strange,” Chris said. “But I know she needs to be home with Jonah, and I really needed her help.” He sounded so damn sincere, and he was. But her mom was sure to have an opinion.
“And I’m sure you’re paying her well.” Her mother sounded...okay. There were none of the impatient or suspicious undertones that normally rested in her mother’s voice, even though checking in on Chris could be the only reason her mother was there after her visit that afternoon. Normally her mother set her phone aside and waited for Corinne to find time to drive down.
“Absolutely,” Chris answered.
She jogged down the stairs, heart thumping, her wet hair bouncing behind her. “Hey, Mom. I wasn’t aware you were coming over.”
Her mother always looked strange in her house—too neat and tidy for the worn interior.
Corinne paused at the bottom of the stairs and Jonah held up an airplane. “Check it out! And we did two puzzles!”
“That’s...great.” Corinne smiled and wanted to flash a glance to see how Chris was dealing, but kept her eyes on her mother.
“Jonah. I’m headed to Heather’s. Wanna come?” And help me get Grandma out of the house? And hope Heather is still home?
“No, thanks,” Jonah said. “Chris is teaching me to build paper airplanes.”
“Oh.” She glanced toward her Mom. “Would you like to walk with me?”
Her mother’s eyes narrowed just enough that Corinne knew she was very aware that she was being ushered out.
“It was great to finally meet you, Ms. Bailey.” Chris shook her mother’s hand, and Corinne was still attempting to pull in a deep breath.
She grabbed her coat, tried not to panic over the relationship Jonah was maybe forming with Chris and what her mother thought of this very bizarre situation and stepped onto the porch.
Her mother walked out behind her and Corinne turned, bracing herself.
“He’s
much more polite than I would have thought.” Her mom smiled and started for her car.
“That’s it?” Corinne asked as she followed her mother across the driveway.
“I can’t stop you from falling in love or getting your heart broken. He does seem nice. Jonah really likes him… Just…” Her mother paused next to the car. “He assured me that you two were just friends, and I know I’m not going to tell you anything you don’t already know, but Jonah has lost too many people in his life to lose another. Don’t move forward unless you’re sure about moving forward.”
Corinne pressed her fingers into her eyes. “Mom, I don’t…”
Her mom patted her shoulder. “Just think with your head first.”
And with that, her mother slid into her car and drove away.
Think with my head first? What on earth is that even supposed to mean?
Spinning on her heel, she started for Heather’s house, but what was she even going to tell her? And Heather might have already left for her meeting anyway. Maybe it wasn’t a good day to visit her friend. Instead, Corinne moved for the old four-wheeler trail and started walking on the smooth clay. Water droplets dripped from the pine trees after the misty rain that afternoon, and the silence helped calm her heart. Three minutes up the trail, and thoughts slid into her brain one after another.
Should she be home?
Were they okay?
Should she be limiting the amount of time Jonah and Chris were together?
Should she call her mom to try and explain better?
Well, hell. Corinne let out a sigh and moved through the frost grass back to her cabin.