The Blueprint, page 6
I was still trying to justify following him up to his parents’, and I was coming up empty.
I had things to do. Places to be. Practice. A charity engagement on Monday. A meeting with my agent. There was no room on the list of eight thousand things for nonsense.
But apparently a week’s worth of Kelly ignoring my calls was enough to send me into full-blown stalker mode.
Hell, things weren’t right in my world if I didn’t see Kelly for too long. So the fuck what. Everyone had a crutch. My crutch just happened to be of the dark-haired, gray-eyed, mouthy, and annoying variety.
I tapped him on the shoulder, and he gasped. The broom flew out of his hands, and I caught it without thinking. I spun it around in my hands and held it back out to him in one smooth motion.
He brushed hair out of his eyes and stared at me for a minute and then at the broom. “Impressive.” He took out his earbuds and crammed them in his pocket as his mouth curved in a rueful grin. “Is there anything you can’t catch?”
“It’s what I do.” I smiled faintly. “What’re you doing out here?”
He took the broom and started to sweep again. “Apparently part of my mother’s welcome-home package includes cleaning out the garage within an inch of its life. What’re you doing here?”
That was a good fucking question. One I still hadn’t come up with an answer for. Clearly he was fine, and I was the biggest worrywart who ever worried. “What does it look like?”
“It looks like you’re here just in time to help me clean out the garage.”
“Dream on, Cannon.”
He brushed his hair out of his eyes again. It was longer than he usually liked it, but I thought the length looked good. It suited him. “How’d you even know I was here?” he asked.
“I called Kennedy. Apparently she still knows how to use a phone.” My tone was pointed, and he blushed a little and swept more vigorously.
“I told you I was fine.”
“No, you texted me you were fine. I haven’t spoken with you since the night of the party. What was I supposed to think?”
“That I’d been chopped up by an ax murderer. Obviously that’s the only reasonable conclusion.”
“Clearly,” I said with a sigh. I didn’t bother to tell him he wasn’t amusing—mostly because it was obvious.
“You were supposed to report me missing, not come charging down here to find me. You’re the executor of my will, Blue.” He sent me an accusing look. “How can I count on you to carry out my last wishes if you don’t follow instructions?”
“That depends. Do I still get your Infiniti in your will?”
“Kennedy got me out of pepper planting this morning, so she gets the Infiniti. I’m leaving you my Planet Earth DVDs.”
It felt good to joke with him, laugh with him, be with him. A Kelly who wanted space made me anxious. There was a little embarrassment mixed in there too. Apparently my oldest friend was ready to move on from our clingy childhood ways, and I wasn’t.
“I still can’t believe you made a four-hour drive just to see if I was okay.”
Well, when he put it so incredulously, it did sound a tad stalkerish. “That’s what happens when you don’t answer the fucking phone.”
“I’m sorry.” He sent me a look that was sincerely apologetic. “You know how I can get.”
I did. The knowing didn’t make it any easier to bear. “You can’t just clam up like that. It’s not fair.”
“You’re right.”
“Of course I am. Not to mention there are a couple ways to get away from me, sure, but none of them include something as simple as sending me to voicemail.”
His mouth curved. “Good to know.”
“Britton, I saw you through the window.” Kelly Ann came down the garage steps carrying two sweating glasses. It looked like sweet tea. “Are you thirsty?”
She handed me one without waiting for an answer, and I thanked her. I took a sip and almost whimpered with pleasure. It was good—really good, authentic, down-home Southern sweet tea. So sweet it made my teeth click. I took another sip, and I was pretty sure I was instantly diabetic. “So good. Thank you.”
“Anytime, Britton.”
She hardly ever called me Blue. When I asked her why, she made a noise in her throat and told me she knew me long before I was the Blueprint. She wasn’t about to start calling me something different because the rest of the world had discovered how special she always knew I was. There was a plethora of reasons I liked Kelly’s parents better than mine.
She turned to Kelly. “You about done in here?”
He scowled. “No. And by the by, I also enjoy sweet tea.”
She smiled and took a sip from the other glass. “Sweet tea is for dutiful sons who bother to visit their mothers. The dustpan is in the closet.”
He growled. “Mother.”
She took one last sip and handed him the glass. Then she turned to me and straightened the collar on my button-down. “Britton, are you staying overnight too?”
“Yes,” I said without even glancing in Kelly’s direction.
“Wonderful. Now I have all my kids together.” She sighed and turned to Kelly. We both stared at him until he grumbled and started to sweep again. Then she smiled at me. “Do you want spaghetti for dinner, Britton?”
“I love spaghetti, Mrs. Cannon. Thank you.”
She beamed. “Such a good boy, with such good manners. Kelly, doesn’t he have such good manners?”
I bit my lip to hold in my smile as Kelly sighed. “Yes, Mother.”
“He would probably never put horrible ink all over his body or pierce his face. Don’t you think?”
I could actually hear his teeth click before he spoke. “I’m sure.”
“I only wish he were gay too.”
You would’ve thought she’d roundhouse-kicked him in the face. His fair skin suffused with color as far as his hairline. He stuttered for a bit, drama personified, and finally gasped, “Mother.”
His mother flapped her hands. “I’m just saying I wished he were. So he could be my son-in-law.”
I folded my arms and narrowed my eyes. His reaction was a little over-the-top. What would be wrong with dating me? If I were gay, I’d date me. Hell, I might even be a catch. I think. Granted, I didn’t know what gay guys looked for in a mate, but women seemed to like me just fine.
His mother sighed. “Goodness, you’d think I suggested you get together with a serial killer. You could do worse than Britton, you know.”
“Oh my God.”
I sniffed and felt a little better. “Thank you, Mrs. Cannon.”
She patted my arm because I clearly understood her plight. “You’ll bunk in Kelly’s room.”
Kelly waited until his mother turned and headed for the door. Then he sent me a scowl. “Mrs. Cannon this, Mrs. Cannon that. I see right through you, you know.”
“Good. Hopefully you can also see that I’m your mother’s favorite.” I shrugged nonchalantly. “Deal with it.”
He planted a hand on his hip. “I’ve got dibs on the top bunk,” he said. “And I don’t care if you’re in the NFL or not.”
“Fine by me. The bottom bunk is bigger, if I recall.” It was one of those “twin on top,” “double on the bottom” beds.
“Good. I have no desire to wind up as a Blue-shaped pancake if you fall through.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be sweeping?” I asked loudly.
His mother poked her head back through the door, and he moved the broom fast enough to create a dust cloud.
Chapter 7
Blue
WE DECIDED a nice walk after dinner would help our food settle—and by us, I mean it was my idea, and I dragged Kelly along. My usual workout schedule was fairly rigorous, and it made my body crave some type of exercise. I wasn’t used to sitting around. If I didn’t get rid of some of that excess energy by bedtime, I’d probably toss and turn all night.
Nightfall hadn’t changed the air quality one bit. It was still hot and muggy. The slap of our sandals was loud against the pavement as we walked down the sidewalk. His parents lived around a mile from the beach, which was about as close as they could manage without breaking the bank. As kids we took full advantage and made the ten-minute walk without protest.
If I tried hard enough, I could almost picture us making the walk as kids, dressed in wildly patterned swim trunks, towels thrown over our shoulders, sunscreen slathered over every bit of available skin—Kelly more than me. I tanned. He burned. We usually talked loudly about who was going to swim the fastest or go the farthest out in the ocean. I smiled faintly. It was a miracle neither one of us drowned trying to win that competition.
As adults that same walk seemed like a whole lot of work and very little reward. I wondered if the adventure had gotten less exciting or if we had. Probably a little bit of both. We soldiered on and suffered through the heat just to recapture a few minutes of our youth.
I suggested we jog to make the journey quicker, and Kelly looked at me like I’d lost my mind. For such a skinny guy, he really had an aversion to anything physical. If we’d been in a better place, I would’ve teased him about it. As it was, I just accepted his decision with a nod. We walked some more and sweated.
I tried to pass the time with idle conversation. “Have you heard from Robert?”
He sent me a look I couldn’t quite catch in the darkness. “That your idea of small talk?”
“I don’t see you making an effort.”
“If I did, it would be better than that.”
I huffed a breath. “Well, what would you like to talk about, Your Highness?”
His mouth dropped open. “Did you just call me a queen?”
I tried not to laugh and elbowed him in the ribs. “Stop avoiding the subject,” I said sternly.
“He’s left a few calls and messages. I think he’s more pissed about how public everything was than really losing me.”
“He’s the one who made it so public.”
“I never said it was logical.”
I never liked Robert. He just hadn’t seemed like the right guy for Kelly. But the one time I said something less than complimentary about him, Kelly nearly bit my head off. He didn’t seem to want to talk about his love life with me much anyway, so I learned not to pry.
“You’re better off without him,” I finally said.
“That seems to be a popular opinion around here,” he murmured. “Obviously you all just want me to die alone.”
“Better alone than with the wrong person.”
“The wrong person.” His voice sounded a tad bitter as he jammed his hands in his pockets. He cast a glance my way, his eyes colorless in the moonlight. “You’re not one of those, are you? One of those true-love people?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Cynical much?”
“I don’t see you denying it.”
Well, no. I guess I was a bit of a closet romantic. When I started looking for someone to settle down with, I hoped she was “the one.” The right one—someone who could make me smile, even in the hard times, someone I looked forward to coming home to, even if we didn’t have anything planned. And even though I knew the idea of soul mates was probably ridiculous and crazy and put lottery-like statistics on the already complicated task of finding love, I guess some part of me still wanted the fantasy. It kind of disappointed me to think he didn’t.
When I told him so, he snorted. “Blue, you’ve probably had six dates this week.”
“Two,” I corrected stiffly.
Yeah? So what? I was a serial dater. Hell, even that was probably too kind. I liked to have sex with different women—a lot of them, different women who knew the score, but still.
“How’re you supposed to find what you like if you don’t sample everything?” I demanded.
His grin was visible even in the low light. “That’s the rationale for getting a sampler platter at Red Lobster, not finding love.”
By the time we hit the sandy dune that signaled the beach entrance, I wished I’d brought my suit. I kicked off my sneakers and rolled up my pant legs to the knees. Kelly laughed at me—he was smart enough to bring shorts—but I didn’t care. The surf felt amazing on my overheated feet and calves as we walked down the beach. I didn’t even care when my rolled-up pant legs got wet.
The sand and the water were in the midst of a courtship almost Victorian in nature—waves rolling in gently, greeting the shore tentatively, and darting away again. When he spoke, Kelly’s voice was soft and almost reverent. “Sometimes I forget how much I love the beach.”
“You and me both.”
“You used to come down here with your mom a lot.” His voice turned careful. “You remember?”
“Of course I do.”
It was nothing I wanted to talk about. That was for sure. I was quiet for a while, caught up in the memories of my mother that didn’t involve her packing a suitcase and taking off—the times we laughed, talked, and did arts and crafts that made my father sneer and argue with her. “You’re wasting the boy’s time, Savannah. Sewing and drawing is for girls and sissies.” She stood her ground that time. Then we made pinecones with peanut butter and put them out for the birds.
“It’s strange sometimes,” I finally said.
“What is?”
“Remembering that it wasn’t all bad.”
He bumped my shoulder. “That’s not strange at all.” I looked at him doubtfully, and he made an amused sound. “It’s not.”
Maybe not, but thinking about it was counterproductive. I frowned out at the water. She was gone. She made her choice. Just because she’d been calling me lately didn’t mean I had to start thinking about her again. It had taken me a long, pathetic time to stop wanting my mother to come back, and I had no intention of backsliding just because she felt the need to reach out. What did she want, anyway? Money? A kidney? I wasn’t giving her the first, and I was pretty sure I was saving the last for Kelly.
When I looked away from the pounding surf, I found him looking at me. Quietly. Pensively. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what he was thinking. That bothered me a lot. I wondered if he thought I was being childish. But then he took my hand in his and gave it a quick squeeze.
“Cut-and-dried villains only exist in the movies, Blue.”
I GOT first crack at the shower and took a mostly cold one. Then I used one of the towels Kelly’s mother left for us to wrap around my waist. The other I used to dry my hair, and then I slung it over my shoulder. I opened the door and collided with Kelly, who was just raising a hand to knock. He went flying into the doorjamb, and I reached out to grab him. I steadied him and set him on his feet before he landed on his ass.
“Yowsa,” he said as he rubbed the back of his head. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”
“Sorry. Want me to take a look?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Lemme see.” I was a lot taller than him, so it was pretty easy to see the top of his head. I parted his dark hair with my fingers to check the damage and make sure there was no blood. He sighed and let me get on with my examination, which was probably for the best and quicker for all involved.
I pressed closer so I could get a better look, and he made a strange noise. “What? Did I hit a sore spot?”
He batted me away and finally squirmed out of my grasp. “It’s fine, Blue.” Whatever he’d been thinking about had made his cheeks super pink. “Are you about done in there?”
“Yeah. I got the mirror all nice and fogged up for you, just like you like it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Much obliged.”
He didn’t have anything else to say to me, and I was momentarily stymied. I didn’t like the new distance between us. And the more I pushed, the more he pulled back. Since grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him like a rag doll in his family home would probably be frowned upon, I stepped aside for him to pass.
His eyes flickered over me as he passed, but other than that, he made no comment. It was like he didn’t even want to be in the same proximity as my nearly naked body… which was strange for me.
I wasn’t one of those douchebags who thought gay guys wanted every guy they saw. Some people turned your crank, and some people you wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. But my job demanded an optimal level of physical fitness most people would never achieve, which was a fancy way of saying I worked hard on my body, and I was proud of it. So I didn’t quite know what to make of the fact that Kelly didn’t even seem inclined to give me a second look. Frankly I didn’t know whether to be irritated or relieved. He closed the bathroom door in my face, and I stalked off to the bedroom.
Irritated. Definitely irritated.
I toweled off, threw on pajama pants, and headed downstairs for water. The lower level was dark, only disturbed by the blinking lights on humming appliances. I used the moonlight to make my way to the fridge and got us both water bottles. When I turned, my eyes were drawn to the Cannons’ kitchen window.
I could see my old family home from there.
I migrated closer and stared at the off-white vinyl-sided house. The treehouse was new. So was the Tacoma in the driveway and the neat rows of marigolds planted down the walkway.
I had no love for that place, and I was glad when my father finally sold it after Ian and I moved out. Too big, he said, too much of an electricity bill. He moved into an expensive condo downtown that I paid for. The old place just held too many memories, most of them bad. He sold the old place to a young family, the Campbells, who had three kids and, at the time, plans for a fourth.
I hoped they had better luck with the place than we did.
Once I banished old memories into the past, where they belonged, I headed upstairs. By the time I entered Kelly’s room, he was clad in pajamas and towel drying his hair. I tried not to smile as I closed the door behind me. It almost took an act of Congress for me not to comment on his superhero pajama bottoms.
