Homebound

by Alyssa B Cole

  Nope. It’s not happening.

  I’m going to New York. That’s final. Maybe not to the same company I worked for, but I’m going back.

  Or maybe not. Maybe I’ll go somewhere new. The world’s full of possibilities.

  Wow. Abby, you’ve gotten so cheesy.

  I love it.

  There’s a rough knocking on the door. I move to get it, but hear my mom shout, “Coming!” Settling back down, I frown at the room. God, I hate packing.

  “Connie! Are you here?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Come on down! Someone’s here to see you.”

  Someone’s here for me? Weird. I didn’t even put on my bare minimum of makeup, but too late now.

  I step out of my room and walk down the stairs, curious. My mom and the half-opened door block my view of our guest.

  “You sure you don’t want to come in?” Mom asks, a little nervously. I know she doesn’t like guests. Even before she decided to go on this cleaning spree, I think she’s been embarrassed by the hoarding.

  “I’m fine. Thanks, Mrs. Doyle.”

  I know that voice.

  My sock slips on the wooden step. Squealing, I land on my butt. Oh God. My tailbone. The pain.

  And the mortification, because of course Mom turns around to look at me, and of course Ethan Perry’s peering around the door, eyebrows raised.

  I’d offend a sailor with all the profanity going through my mind right now.

  “You okay?” Mom asks, looking unsure as her eyes dart from me to Ethan and back again.

  “Yup!” I yelp, dragging myself up with the help of the banister. Ethan takes a step inside, raising his hands a little as if wondering if he should help or not. I don’t think he realizes that it would help the most if he’d just leave.

  I was fine. I was, like, zen. And here he comes again, knocking down my plans. Last night was a perfect farewell. Sure, I figured I’d see him around a few times in town before I left, but I planned on never going out of my way to talk to him, and I was sure he’d never go out of his way to talk to me.

  So what is he doing here?

  God, my butt hurts.

  I limp my way down the stairs, trying to avoid dying from embarrassment. “So,” I say in a voice too high to be natural, “what’s up? You wanted to see me?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Ethan says, looking concerned. “Are you okay?”

  “Just dandy.” Again. God. Please. Strike me dead here and now.

  “Can I talk to you? It’s a nice day out,” he says, looking pointedly at the porch behind him.

  “Ethan, you’re always welcome to come in if you get cold,” Mom says. “Constance, be nice to him.”

  Wow, she’s really been out of the loop. Not even the gossip that has no doubt circulated has reached her.

  Mom heads back to her project, and Ethan gives a small, subtle smile at me. “Yeah, Abby,” he says. “Be nice to me.”

  I can’t tell if it’s flirty or him acting like a big brother again. It frustrates me. Grabbing my jacket, I put it on roughly before following him out to the porch.

  “What do you want?” I say, looking out at the trees. Most of the leaves have fallen in red and gold heaps, growing brown and dull in the cold, but some still hang onto the thick branches.

  “I didn’t really have a chance to talk to you last night.”

  I smile a little. “You don’t need to talk to me, Ethan. It’s fine.”

  I used to tell myself that so often. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I’m doing okay.” But for the first time in a long, long time, I at least halfway believe it without clutching the phrase like pearls, like trying to shove in a puzzle piece that just won’t fit.

  “I’m not here to just to make you feel better. I promise, this is entirely for myself.”

  Curious and confused, I glance over at him. Those blue eyes of his burn with something I don’t dare name. They’re solely fixed on me.

  “I thought you’d be gone,” he murmurs. “I thought I’d get here, and your mom would tell me you packed your stuff and left already.”

  Frowning, I tell him, “So? You still have my number. Speaking of, you could’ve texted me and asked if I’d be home at all.”

  He opens his mouth, stammers a bit, then closes it. “I guess you’re right,” Ethan says sheepishly as he looks away, making me snort. Then he plops in a chair, dropping his face in his hands. “God, I’m stupid.”

  I have no idea where he’s going with this. Part of me thinks this’ll be a romantic confession like in one of those cheap movies Beth and I binged earlier today, but I’m more than aware of the fact that it’s probably just him telling me that he’s sorry and wishes me the best. Because Ethan Perry is an infuriatingly nice guy.

  He looks up from his hands, and he looks so relieved to see me standing there that it throws me through yet another loop. “You wanna sit?” he asks, gesturing to the seat next to him awkwardly.

  “I’m good,” I say. My butt couldn’t handle it. I think I need an ice pack. A heating pack? Both? “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  He breathes in deep, then out. “Okay.” Ethan stands and comes over to me. I’m struck all over again by his height.

  “Listen,” he says, as if I can do anything else right now. “I’m going to be obnoxiously selfish and honest right now, all right?”

  “Taking a page out of my playbook?” I joke, because this moment’s suddenly too serious for me to handle right now.

  “You’ve never been obnoxiously selfish.”

  I raise a brow.

  “I mean, sometimes you could be obnoxious,” he admits, “but I haven’t been much better.”

  Scratching behind his ear, he looks out at the yard, falling silent. I open my mouth - to say what, I have no idea - when he surprises me by whipping his head back to me. “Do you want to go for a walk or something?” he asks almost desperately. “I keep feeling like your mom or dad’s watching us.”

  “My parents are incredibly oblivious. We’re fine.” But I start walking down the steps anyway, letting him follow me. I’m sore as I move, but it seems to help the pain a little bit.

  We walk to the lake. It seems like his words are stuck, so I give him an out and ask him about his mother. That seems to loosen him up; he talks about how she’s doing okay, but they’re in a period of waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “I’m sorry. No one deserves this, but especially not your mom,” I say as we walk downtown, waving to John. He must be on his way to the store. “Maybe it won’t progress as fast as they say, though. I mean, she’s had this since you were a baby, right? Maybe she’ll decline, but it’ll be really slow?”

  He smiles a little at me. “I hope so.” Then, after a moment: “You know, it’s really messed me up, growing up with her like this. I get…incredibly protective over her. And other people I care about.”

  “Really?” I ask. “Your mom I get, sure, but - ”

  “You know how Nick Keith wanted to hit you up in high school?”

  I nod, barely remembering Nick saying something like that to me when I first moved back.

  “I told him if he so much as winked at you, I’d drown him in the lake and let his body rot on the shore.”

  I stop walking, staring at him. “Geez, Ethan. Are you a psychopath?”

  He has the grace to look embarrassed. “I didn’t mean it literally…I don’t think. To be fair, I’d taken Mom to a doctor’s appointment earlier that day, so I wasn’t in a great mood to begin with. Besides, I don’t think Nick took me seriously.”

  “Clearly not,” I say. “I’m pretty sure he would’ve mentioned that if he had.”

  “But that’s what I mean,” he continues. “I’m ridiculously protective over the people I care about. I want to keep them close. I can’t bear to leave Mom alone for more than I can help it, because I’m so afraid for her. I cling to her. And…that’s how I feel about you.”

  We stop just past the leftover Halloween decoratio
ns by the pier. We’ve arrived at the beach, a cold breeze coming from it. I wish I’d brought a scarf, but as Ethan’s words sink in, I’m thinking that maybe he’ll warm me up enough.

  “I knew what your goals were, and I knew you always hated it here. And here you are, this beautiful, successful girl - ”

  I snort.

  Ethan glares at me fiercely. “Don’t do that. Don’t put yourself down. You had a setback, but you went out and did what you said what you were going to do. You left this place, went to college, got a job doing what you wanted. Not many people can say that.”

  I flush.

  “Here you are,” he says, softening, “and all I can think about is how we’re soulmates, and how that’s going to ruin your life if you stay here. I don’t have much going for me. I’m almost done with my degree, but I’ll have to stay and look over Mom. I won’t be able to take you anywhere exciting or fast-paced or anything like that. And I thought if I kept my mouth shut and let you be, maybe neither of us would get hurt.

  “But you did,” he murmurs, gazing down at me with such sad eyes. “And I did. When you mentioned New York, I just…”

  Ethan trails off.

  “If you didn’t keep your mouth shut,” I say slowly, “what would you say?”

  He hesitates for only a moment before his hands are on my shoulders. There’s nothing possessive about it, not entirely anyway; I can break away in an instant. But his hands are warm as he stands close to me.

  “Don’t go to New York,” he demands. “Stay here, with me. I’m not saying this has to be something serious right away. We can take our time. And if you have to go to New York?” Ethan pauses, then continues, “Honestly? I’d make it work with you because you are absolutely worth it, even if I see you only once a year. But it would be hell. I want to be able to see you every day, listen to that sarcastic little mouth of yours, watch you smile. I can’t do much for you, I’m just some guy who’s probably going to live in this small town all his life, but…”

  He swallows, gazing at me like I have the answers, like he’s lost.

  I feel the smile creep up my lips. “Go on.”

  “Are you teasing me right now?” Ethan asks, flummoxed.

  “Oh, absolutely. I’m loving this,” I say, grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. But I can’t stop. I stand on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “Constance Abigail,” he says, staring at me hard, “I honestly can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or if you actually want me - ”

  “I’ll stay.”

  He blinks. “What?”

  “I’ll stay. I’m staying. I’ll stay.” Each sentence is punctuated by a kiss on each cheek, and then a peck on the lips.

  But as soon as my mouth moves away, he brings it crashing back to his own, holding me tight with a passion I never knew existed in him. He deepens it, and man, for someone who never dated before, he is quickly making up for lost time.

  I love it.

  I think I might love him.

  He pulls away. Utter euphoria is etched in his features, but slowly worry creeps in. “Are you sure I’m not pressuring you into this?”

  I roll my eyes. “Ethan, you might be surprised to hear this, but I’m usually pretty vocal about what I want. And what I want is this moment, this town, and you.”

  I’ll have to worry about turning down the job later. Right now, I’m busy making out with my soulmate.

  * * *

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  About the Author

  Alyssa B. Cole has been reading and writing ever since she was a child. When she’s not teaching, she can often be found at her local animal shelter or watching anime. She lives in Minnesota.

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  Also by Alyssa B. Cole

  Heartbound Series

  Snowbound (Coming Soon)

  Rebound (Coming Soon)

  Pas de Deux

  Strange Melodies Series

  Book 1: Cacophonous Melody

  Book 2: A Strange Duet