Unraveling You (Unraveling You #1)(17)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

“I’m not discouraged.” My fingers fall to the keyboard. “I just need a break. I’m bored.”

“You’re bored. Wow, that’s a first.” She comes up behind me and places her hands on my shoulders, digging her fingertips into my shirt, massaging my muscles. I tense from her touch, momentarily forgetting how to breathe as her scent immerses me. “You’re usually so uptight. You need to relax, dude.” She rests her chin on my head as she keeps rubbing, driving my body into a confusion infused frenzy.

“What’s up with the constant dude remark?” I ask as I click off the computer screen. “You’re always calling me that.”

“That’s because you’re my dude, buddy, bro.” She laughs then kisses the top of my head. “Now get up. If you want a break, I’m totally going to give you a break.”

“Where are we going to go?” I stand up and stretch my arms above my head, hyper aware that her eyes wander to the bottom of my shirt when it rides up, checking me out.

I feel slightly better about the whole dress thing, but at the same time guilty. And afraid. So fucking afraid all the time, like I have no clue what to do with my emotions for her.

She bites her bottom lip before blinking up at me. “Hmm … let me think. Somewhere adventurous, of course.” She taps her finger to her bottom lip. “How about the Silver Box? I haven’t been there in forever, and I heard there was a few cool bands playing tonight.”

“But what if it’s noisy and crowded?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll hold your hand.” Her bottom lip pops out as she peers up at me through her eyelashes, using the move she recently learned that gets her way. “Pretty please, come with me.”

Sighing, I retrieve my hoodie from the back of the computer chair. “Fine, but I need to talk to Lila about my brother first.”

She scoops up her leather jacket from the bedpost. “Why? You’re not letting her in on our plan, are you?”

I slip my arms through the sleeves then zip up the jacket. “No. But he turns eighteen in a couple of days, and she said it might be easier to find him then.”

“I hope so.” She slides her jacket on and opens the bedroom door. “Now, let’s get this party on the road.”

She links arms with me and we head down to the kitchen. When we stroll in, Kale and Everson are sitting at the kitchen table, eating fruit and arguing about sports.

Everson is more reserved, like me, but freaks out over anything that has to do with football, like now as he talks animatedly about some touch down by the Minnesota Vikings, one of his favorite teams.

Kale seems mildly interested, but still argues with him. He’s always kind of marched to the beat of his own drum, wearing a lot of comic book inspired attire, but thankfully, after he turned fifteen a couple of months ago, he stopped with the capes.

“Hey, have you two seen your mom and dad?” Lyric asks, stealing an apple from the fruit basket on the table.

Everson scowls at her. “Jesus, make yourself at home, Lyric. You can’t just come eat our food and interrupt our conversation.”

Kale, who’s usually a talker, freezes mid-bite of his orange slice, and stares at Lyric with his jaw hanging open as she bites into the apple. I have a theory that the poor kid might have a crush on her, since the mouth agape trait is a common thing when Lyric’s in his sight.

“Sorry, Everson,” Lyric says, stifling a smile as she wipes a trail of juice from her chin.

“We were talking football,” Everson tells her, like it explains his rude behavior.

“Okay. Chillax. I just asked a question, which you never did answer.” Lyric skims back and forth between the two of them. “Do either of you know where your mom and dad are?”

Annoyed, Everson points over his shoulder toward the living room. “They’re in there, whispering secrets about Ayden. They think they’re being sneaky about it, but we heard them when we walked by.”

I trade a puzzled look with Lyric, and then we simultaneously duck out of the room and make a beeline for the living room. I’m about to walk right in, but Lyric throws out her arm and pushes me back behind the wall. Then, she places her finger to her lips, shushing me as she huddles against me, leaning to the side to eavesdrop.

I sigh, torn between letting Lyric listen, and not feeling guilty about doing so myself.

“I’m worried the therapy isn’t helping,” Lila says concernedly. “He’s still saying he can’t remember anything. And he’s been pretty adamant about searching for his brother and sister.”

“Baby, I know you want to fix everything, including the world,” Ethan tells her, “but you might just have to accept that he may not ever remember. Maybe it’s good for him, too. Maybe whatever happened to him is best left in the dark.”

“Yeah, but what about finding his brother and sister? What am I supposed to do about that?”

“You try to find them,” Ethan replies simply. “If he wants to find them, then he’ll find them whether you help him out or not.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She pauses. “I worry about him, though. There’s still so much he doesn’t know—that no one knows.”

A stretch of silence goes by, and then they start chatting about Kale and his problems at school. I don’t even realize I’ve gripped onto Lyric’s hand until her thumb grazes the inside of my wrist.

What Lila and Ethan were talking about is nothing I don’t already know, but hearing the worry in their voices makes me concerned that I might be more messed up than I thought.

“Hey, are you okay?” Lyric asks, searching my eyes with apprehension.

I nod, forcing down the lump in my throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I free her hand from my death grip and walk into the living room, cleaning off my damp palms on the front of my jeans.

They’re both sitting on the sectional, the television is on, but the volume is down, and a lamp is on. There are stacks of papers and receipts piled on the table, armrests, floor, everywhere really, probably for Ethan’s outdoor touring business, or Lila’s part time catering business she runs on the weekends.

“Oh, hey, sweetie.” Lila and Ethan appear uneasy at my appearance. She has a bright pink mug in her hand that matches her shirt. When she notes Lyric and I are wearing our jackets, she sets the mug down on the coffee table. “I thought you two were hanging out in your room tonight?”