“Hopefully. She has to have her breathing tube out for at least seventy-two hours.”I sigh out a weak smile.
“She’s been sick?”
“Yeah. She was born prematurely. She also has foetal alcohol syndrome, which damaged her heart. My birth mother didn’t know she was pregnant.”
“Shit.”
I’m not sure if I should raise an eyebrow at his use of a curse word, but I let it slide. It might be worth checking with Warren whathishouse rules are.“Yeah.”
“Do you see her a lot? Your mom?"Luke’s face isn’t heavy with emotion. These aren’t unusual conversations for him to be having, I suppose. They must have been pretty frequent at group homes, especially.
“No. She’s not well.”
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know. Once she left the hospital, she… hasn’t reached out to anyone.”I avoid eye contact. Too much sympathy from others often makes tears start flowing, and I don’t want to freak the kid out.
“Sorry.”Luke contorts his mouth into an anxious frown.
I serve up our bowls, and we move to sit at the table. Shortly after, Warren appears back at the front door with a shopping bag from the local pharmacy. Things for Luke, I presume, as he places it inside his room. He looks towards the table and slows his steps and tenses as he sees our dinner. Passing us, he goes to the kitchen, grabs a glass of water and heads back down the hall.
The shower turns on, and my brain flips to a thought of him shirtless before I have a moment to stop myself. What does he hide under those loose-fitting black shirts he seems to have bought in bulk?
It has been a long time since I saw someone naked. My baby sister moving in is certainly not going to help that situation. Should I try to get laid before she moves in? To tide me over? Gross… I need to think about something else. Something much more table conversation appropriate.What were we talking about before?
“What about your mom? Do you see her?”I ask Luke.
“Our mom died when I was a baby. Our dad comes and goes as he likes.”
Well, that’s sobering. “I’m sorry…”I sign, wrists limp.
If Luke was a baby, Warren must have been eight or so when his mom passed. I think of myself as that four-year-old sitting on the bus and wince. I lost my mom, but not forever. Even during the hardest parts, deep down, I always knew that.
“It wasn’t so bad when Warren and I were together, but we haven’t lived in the same house since I was nine.”
“I’m glad you’re together now.”
“Me too.”
The bathroom door opens, and Warren walks towards the living room… in only a towel.Avert eyes. Avert eyes. Avert—shit.My breath hitches in my throat as my heart hums in my ears. His upper body is all muscles and smooth skin.
I heard once you could imagine what something would feel like on your tongue by simply looking at it. Does that apply to the line up the centre of his chest? The dip of his collarbones where water droplets still remain? My eyes fall lower. His abdomen narrows into a V-shape, pointing down to his…damn, am I ovulating or something? Keep it together, Chloe.
“Hey. All good?”Warren signs to Luke, paying me no mind yet again. I swallow and focus my attention on the last bites of my dinner.
“Yeah. We’re talking shit about you,”Luke signs back, grinning.
“Funny. It’s time for bed. Fifteen minutes, okay?”
I check the clock on the stove; it’s barely nine. Little early for a fifteen-year-old, no?
“Okay.”
“We gotta be out of here by seven thirty. Set your alarm, okay?”
Luke rises from his seat and takes his dishes to the sink, cleaning up after himself, while Warren traces his every move. He dries his hands on the tea towel on the stove, then meets Warren, where he has stayed planted at the end of the hallway, and pulls him into a hug. Warren resists, stiff as a board for a brief moment, before he dips his chin downward and wraps the crook of his elbow around Luke’s head to pull him in closer.
I stand and quietly tidy up the kitchen. This doesn’t seem like a moment Warren would want me to witness.
