Home > A Lot Like Adios (Primas of Power #2)(9)

A Lot Like Adios (Primas of Power #2)(9)
Author: Alexis Daria

“I can’t do this,” he muttered in a strangled voice.

Michelle shut the car off. “Don’t worry, your parents go to bed early.”

“Their bedroom light is still on.”

“Why on earth would they be looking out the window to check when I get home?”

“You don’t know my mother.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” she replied breezily, and got out of the car.

“Wait.” He reached across and grabbed her wrist before she could close the door. Her skin was cool against his. He was burning up with anxiety. “I’ll go in through the back.”

“Suit yourself.” Taking her keys out of her purse, Michelle rounded the car and climbed the steps to the front door. After a deep breath, Gabe opened the car door as quietly as he could and slunk out. Shutting it gently, he crept along the side to the trunk. This would be easier if he weren’t wearing a white T-shirt, but he hadn’t expected to sneak inside under cover of darkness, now had he? He slipped his suitcase out but when he closed the trunk, it made a loud thunk, and he winced. He didn’t dare drag his luggage, so he cradled it against his chest, trying not to think about airport germs as he crouch-ran toward the gate on the left side of the house.

By now Michelle was unlocking the front door. When Gabe opened the gate, the hinge creaked loudly, and she shot him an amused look. He ducked through and finally, with an entire house separating him from view of his parents, he straightened to his full height.

Pausing to take a breath, he looked around, unable to believe where he was. For the first time in nine years, he was in the same space as his parents. They were home, and so damn close. He’d seen an SUV in the driveway, and his mom’s car—the one she’d bought right before he graduated college—was parked at the curb.

Bitterness blossomed in his chest, and a strange tension took hold of him. For all these years, he’d tried not to think of them. It had been too painful. And it was painful now, but also . . . some small part of him really wanted to see them. Wanted them to see him.

It wouldn’t go well. He knew that. His interactions with them hadn’t gone well since he was fourteen years old, marked by yelling and criticism. There was no reason for that to have changed.

Adjusting his grip on the suitcase, Gabe made his way to the back of the house. Here, he had to be careful. Michelle’s backyard was separated from his by only a low chain-link fence, and the sliding glass doors leading into Michelle’s basement would be easily visible by—

He stopped. The fence he’d climbed over countless times as a child was gone, replaced by a stylish wooden lattice covered by climbing plants.

This, more than anything else, triggered a fresh wave of grief. What else had changed in his absence?

He heard a door open and nearly leaped out of his skin, but it was just Michelle opening the kitchen door, up a short flight of steps from the mostly concrete backyard.

“Come on,” she hissed.

He’d expected her to open the sliding doors to the basement, but of course she had to make this even more difficult for him. With a muttered curse, Gabe hefted the suitcase and tiptoed across the yard to the steps.

A bright light flashed on and he froze. On the tiny deck outside the kitchen, Michelle gestured frantically for him to get a move on. Realizing it was just a motion sensor light, Gabe tucked the suitcase under one arm and jogged up the steps as quickly and quietly as he could. He slipped past Michelle into the dark kitchen and finally, with great relief, put the suitcase down.

“You could’ve warned me about the light,” he said with a growl.

“I forgot. It’s been a long time since I had to sneak someone into this house.” She pointed at the mat just inside the door. “Shoes off. You know the rules.”

In the dim light permeating the windows, Gabe toed off his sneakers while Michelle slipped out of her sandals and slid on indoor chanclas. Something brushed Gabe’s ankle and he jumped as a dark shape appeared and began to sniff his shoes with gusto.

“That’s Jezebel,” Michelle said. “She’s hard to see in the dark.”

She moved to the light switch and turned it on, flooding the room with light. Gabe dropped to the floor like he was doing a push-up, and a sleek black cat he recognized from Michelle’s Instagram feed poked her nose—which had just been in his sneaker—into his face.

Michelle stared at him. “What are you doing?”

“Close the curtains,” he hissed, annoyed at her surprised look. The cat—Jezebel—bumped her head against his temple, so he shifted to scratch her ears.

“Gabe, your mom isn’t going to look into the kitchen—”

“Yes, she is. She used to do it all the time. Close the fucking curtains!”

Michelle sighed but did as he asked. “Better?”

“No.” Gabe got up from the floor, breathing like he’d just run a five-minute mile. He couldn’t go through this every time he had to enter and leave the house. And he couldn’t stay locked inside either. He had meetings to attend and locations to look at—in Manhattan.

Michelle stood at the kitchen counter, watching him with a pensive expression. It was the first time he’d gotten a good look at her, head to toe. A familiar sense of desire rose up. He still wanted her, but mixed up in it was longing and anguish, anger and heartache. The strength of his feelings threatened to choke him.

He’d always thought she was pretty. When they were little, they’d had fun together, and that was enough. Her prettiness didn’t mean anything except that he’d adored the sight of her smile.

As they’d gotten older, they’d both changed, and his gaze started to linger on her in different ways. Their bodies had matured, and he no longer thought nothing of her easy touches, the way she leaned against him when they watched movies or sat on his lap when the bus was crowded. Back then, he thought a lot about those touches. And he’d eventually admitted to himself that he was in love with her, beyond friendship. He loved listening to her talk and watching her dance around her room when her favorite songs came on the radio. He loved arguing with her about movies and sharing food from the same plate.

He loved to see her smile.

She wasn’t smiling now, though.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, the words tumbling out before he could question whether or not they were wise.

Her gaze dropped to the counter. “It’s weird having you back here.”

Gabe looked around the kitchen he’d once known as well as his own. “It’s weird being back here.”

“I wondered if it would be like it used to be.”

“I don’t think we can go back to how it used to be.” He said the words gently, knowing they had the potential to hurt her. She was more emotionally fragile than she pretended to be. But to honor their friendship, he had to give her honesty. He wasn’t the same person he’d been then, and neither was she. They’d grown up. They couldn’t slip back into the easy camaraderie that came from seeing each other daily.

“I guess we can’t,” she murmured. Then she opened the fridge and waved him over. “Anyway, I made these for you.”

He stood next to her, trying to ignore the enticing woodsy fragrance that clung to her, and peered into the refrigerator.

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