Patch Up (20 page)

“What a giveaway,” I mumble and close my textbook. We’ve been working for almost three hours and I need a break. Yawning, I close my eyes. I’m tired and it’s only nine in the evening.

He shifts on the bed, his hard thigh and hip touching mine. My breath falters. I open my eyes and I take a deep breath. The intake of air is loud in the quiet room. His face is closer than I thought. His breath smells of smoke and chocolate from the cookies we ate earlier. He brings the cigarette to his mouth, takes a drag and keeps the smoke in for a couple of seconds before exhaling softly away from me, his eyes locked with mine, unreadable.

I bite my lower lip and his eyes level down there, following the movement raptly. A second ago, I bit my lip because I didn’t know what to do with myself and now I feel dizzy by his attention and the look in his eyes. They are not laughing, not sweet; they are hooded, dark, and compelling. And I can’t turn away.

His gaze goes back up to mine ever so slowly, making me blush slightly. He leans toward me, frowning. I don’t move. I’m frozen to the spot on the bed, unable to understand and take in what’s happening with him, with us. Am I mistaking this sizzle of attraction going on here? Is it possible that Kate was right when she told me he was physically attracted by me, too? And if he is, what should I do?

And then, just like that, the moment is ruined. Things get a little weird when his phone rings, playing Addicted by Saving Abel. When I think about the lyrics of the song, I blush more than ever.

He curses, puts the cigarette in his mouth, and fishes his phone out of his pants pocket. “Shit,” he curses after he reads the caller ID.

“What’s wrong?” I ask in a quiet voice, still shaking from our moment that-should-remain-in-the-past.

“It’s my mother,” he answers me, shaking his head. Hopefully it’s to clear his mind because he’s as perturbed as I am. Wishful thinking really, because he’s more used to this kind of sexual attraction than I am. He takes a deep breath and presses the green button to answer the call just before it goes to voicemail. “Hey Mom.” He rolls his eyes at something she says. “I’m working with a friend.” He clears his throat and glances at me quickly. “No, she’s in the psychology class where I assist.” He chuckles and puts the cigarette butt in the little black ashtray I bought a couple of days before. “Yes, my friend is a girl.” He frowns and tugs at his hair. “It’s not like that. Listen, she’s next to me and it’s weird talking about her when she’s right here.” He leans his head against the wall like it weighs a ton. “You want me to bring her on Sunday for lunch?” he asks in disbelief. “Wait a second, Mom.”

He pulls his phone away from his ear and smiles at me, embarrassed.

“Lunch with your family?” I whisper, afraid his mother can hear me, which is ridiculous since she knows I’m right here.

“I know, but she’s stubborn.” He sighs, defeated.

“I guess I know where you get it from then,” I reply with a smile.

He chuckles and resumes his call with his mom, telling her we’ll be there next Sunday for lunch with his family. From what I can gather by his behavior and the light blush on his tanned cheeks, his mother thinks we’re a couple. It’s going to be a really weird lunch.

“I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t prepared,” he tells me, putting his phone back in his pocket. He coughs and runs a hand over his goatee.

“That’s fine. She’s just curious to know your friends like my parents were when they came here,” I say dismissively, trying to ease the tension he’s feeling. And to try and wash away the crazy attraction the phone call saved us from.

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s going to be interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

“We’ll see,” he replies, always so cryptic. It’s frustrating and yet I think that’s why I want so much to unravel all his mysteries.

*  *  *

I can’t believe I’m about to do this. Meeting new people is not my favorite thing, and knowing it’s Duke’s family makes things worse because I want to make a good first impression. I don’t want them to see the broken me but the true friend I want to be for Duke.

My left foot is bouncing on the floor of the car next to an empty cup of coffee. He’s definitely not a neat freak with his car. Out of the corner of my eye I see him smile at me, amused by the near nervous breakdown I’m experiencing.

“Oh, will you stop it!” I say, pushing lightly at his shoulder with one of my hands but still careful not to disturb him while he’s driving. I don’t want this day to be any worse.

He chuckles and turns down the radio so we don’t have to yell to be heard over the music. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re enjoying watching me squirm. I don’t understand you.” I pout. I mean, I don’t even remember the last time I pouted.

“They won’t eat you. The worst that can happen is they won’t listen when we tell them there’s nothing between us beside friendship.” His smile is dazzling and it begins to put me at ease. After all, I can’t change who I am and if Kate and Duke can be my friends and see beyond the broken me, then why not them, too?

“I don’t want them to think I’m weird. You know I’m not good with people.” I swallow the lump that appeared a couple of miles earlier and exhale when Duke turns off the car in front of a white house in a quiet neighborhood. The house is a perfect two story, which gives off the vibes of a home and not just a house. I see a curtain move inside one of the downstairs windows before we exit the car.

“You won Derek over and he’s not the kind of guy easily impressed by just anyone,” Duke points out, his smile diminishing a little. He must remember the reason why I met his friend Derek. If only we didn’t have so many unpleasant memories between us, it’d be easier.

“Because he pitied me,” I reply, waving him off and walking beside him toward the dark green front door. My hands are all sweaty. I hope nobody will try to shake hands with me. I dry them self-consciously on my black jeans.

“You’re being ridiculous if you think that.” He knocks at the door and bumps his shoulder against mine playfully when my breath catches in my throat. “If you’re not feeling well, tell me and I’ll think of something to bail us out.”

Before I can thank him the door opens, and a soft looking woman with the exact same eyes as Duke—but without the hurt his hold—appears. Without a doubt, she’s his mother. She’s average height, maybe slightly shorter than me, with a short bob of light brown hair.  Her son envelops her completely in a bear hug with his tall, strong body.

“It’s good to see you, honey,” she says with a bright voice. She is truly happy to see him and that brings a genuine smile to my face. This woman reminds me of my mom and the bond we had before Sean ruined me and I put so much distance between us.

She releases her son reluctantly and looks closely at his face. The laughter lines around her eyes make me think about her life; she obviously spends a lot of time sharing her beautiful smile with the world. He clearly inherited his tanned skin from her. I may be mistaken, but I think she’s partly Native-American. I understand now why Duke looks so beautifully exotic.

She looks at me and her interest increases, and I begin to play with the hem of my leather jacket. She steps toward me and comes to hug me. I don’t recoil but I freeze. Duke begins to open his mouth to stop his mother, a look of concern for me, but I stop him by doing something I haven’t done in a long time. I take a step toward her, closing the last gap between us, and initiate the hug. Granted, it’s not easy and I’m a bit clumsy, but I force myself to do something I didn’t know I was capable of doing. My heart is racing, my nerves are wrecked, and my hands are shaking even though it was a brief hug, but it’s a first step.

Duke’s eyes widen but a proud smile spreads across his face, relaxing his features perfectly. Discreetly, he bumps his shoulder against mine, letting me know it’s a big step and a big deal and he understands that.

“You must be Skye. I’m so glad you could make it here with us,” she says, her voice deeper than what I expected for a woman. I like her voice. It sounds strong, yet reassuring.

“Like we had a choice?” Duke muses mischievously.

His mother slaps him playfully on his chest and shakes her head. “You never come to see us and you have no excuses. So, if I have to ask to meet your friend to see you, I won’t think twice.”

I laugh and shrug off my jacket; Duke puts his on the coat stand behind the door. Placing mine next to his I turn around, colliding with his dark eyes which are focused on me. Crossing my arms over my chest, I blush. I know why he’s looking at me like that, like he is seeing me for the first time. Kate convinced me to put on a light grey long-sleeved shirt of hers. On her it’s body hugging, but on me it’s not as daring. It’s just more fitting on my body than I’m used to, showing some cleavage and my narrow hips.

I shake my head, letting him know to not say a word. He chuckles and holds up his hands before walking into the living room. His mother followed our silent exchange and even though she doesn’t know what it was about, she saw that we are indeed close. I force a smile and follow her in to the living room after Duke.

The living room is simple and the furnishings are not expensive, and there is a huge flat screen on ESPN. On the grey couch sits a man I can only assume is Duke’s father. He has hair the same shade and the same well-defined lips. If Duke looks like his father at the same age, he’s still going to be very good looking.

Two armchairs in the same grey on each side complete the sitting arrangement of the room. On one of the armchairs, a woman slightly older than Duke is sitting, looking at us walking in, a small smile on her thin lips. She takes more after Duke’s mother than father, but there’s no mistaking that she is Duke’s older sister.

On the coffee table, flowers I can’t identify bring a touch of color with the assortment of yellow, white, and green. On the mantel of the chimney, pictures of the family give a personal touch. They are clearly happy to meet me even if they look a little uncertain of how to react. It’s funny, I’m not the only one who is uneasy. It helps me to relax and the smile on my face is real rather than fake, which Duke would have noticed in a second.

“Alana, this is Skye. Skye, meet my sister, Alana,” Duke says after he gives his sister a bear hug. She’s taller than I first thought.  Much taller than I am. I walk to her and extend my hand. She shakes it.

“I’m glad to meet you, Skye. My brother shouldn’t keep you all to himself.”

I blush again and meet his eyes. He rolls them and tugs on his hair and I laugh at his embarrassment. “Well, it’s not like you know all of his friends,” I reply, trying to send a clear message that we are just friends, but it doesn’t seem to reach Duke’s family from their chuckles.

“I think you can stop, Skye,” Duke says, hugging his father who slaps him affectionately on the back. “They won’t listen to us. They think they know what’s going on more than us.”

“We know you, son,” Duke’s father says and comes to shake my hand. His grip is strong but I’m not afraid. This man looks reassuring despite his apparent strength; just like my father.

“Leave them alone,” says Duke’s mother, winking at me like we share a secret. I frown and look back at Duke, who shrugs hopelessly. “Let’s go eat or the meal will be burnt.”

We all sit around the dark wood table that could sit eight people and wait for Duke’s mother to bring the heavenly smelling meal. As we begin to eat, Alana breaks the silence, her poised voice relaxing.

“So, you’re studying psychology?”

I drink my glass of water and nod. “Yes, but I’m a freshman so I don’t have my major yet. I want to become a psychologist.”

“That’s wonderful!” Duke’s mother gushes enthusiastically, making Duke chuckle and almost choke on his potatoes. “Duke hesitated a long time before choosing engineering, but I’m glad he’s got two majors. It’d be sad to abandon something he likes, like psychology.”

Duke’s father doesn’t seem to be the kind of man to talk much, but he nods at his wife’s words. His parents are really supportive and it’s wonderful to witness it. It’s rare to have such unity in a family and we share that together.

“Psychology is really fascinating. It helps to understand people on a whole other level and opens up the mind. But more importantly, I really want to help people.”

“It’s rare to have such a belief so young,” Alana points out, taking a sip of red wine. “Does someone in your family have a mental illness?”

“Alana!” Duke snaps, startling us all around the table. His body is tense and almost shaking with anger. My eyes widen at his behavior, which I assume is because he wants to protect me from the family inquisition. I put a hand on his arm and squeeze. He lowers his eyes and finally looks at me.

“It’s just a question. What’s gotten into you?”

“He’s just trying to protect me,” I say with an apologetic smile, embarrassed to be the reason of the tension. I clear my throat. “I don’t have a family member with a mental illness, not that I know of at least, but something happened to me and I’m still recovering.”

“Are you all right, sweetheart?” Duke’s mother asks me with concern, her slim brows pulled down.

“I’m getting better, but I’m not schizophrenic or anything like that if that’s what you’re wondering. It’s—”

“You don’t have to explain to them,” Duke interrupts me, putting an arm around my shoulders. Three pairs of eyes zero in on his gesture and I feel my cheeks heating, but I don’t move away. Instead, I snuggle a little closer.