For a moment he couldn’t say anything, just felt the pounding of his pulse in his head, the clamminess of his hands, the instinctive almost primal desire to get up and flee. But then, when he managed to still his breath, he looked her straight in the eye and said, “No.”
ChapterTwenty-Three
Maeve drove home from the hospital strangely excited to see them both. It surprised her how relieved it made her to think of Brodie and Zoey together in the house, laughing and joking. The idea that, while it still made her very nervous, Zoey might now be able to enjoy the influence of two parents, which, Maeve assumed, could only add richness to her life. Unless Brodie messed it up. But she’d been pleasantly surprised by him at the cabin. He was different to his reputation. Seemed more reliable, less of a flake.
And none of it, absolutely nothing at all, had the slightest bit to do with the fact that when he locked eyes with her she felt a tingle through her whole body, when he smiled she could barely reply, when he looked her in the eye it was like the attention of the universe was all on her. Exactly as it had been that night at the concert. Exactly as it was sometimes when she woke up in the middle of the night having dreamt of him.
No, she was not driving home a little bit excited to see them because of anything to do with Brodie himself.
“Hi, guys, I’m home.”
She saw both their shoes by the front door. Big and small.
“In here,” Brodie called back, the deepness of his voice unfamiliar in their home. For a split-second, it made her think what it must be like to come home to a partner, someone happy to see you, to hear about your day. Someone who made your stomach fizz when you heard their voice. Someone whowantedto be there waiting for you, uptilted eyes alight.
She chucked her keys in the bowl by the front door. Brodie was not her partner.
She glanced at her reflection in the hallway mirror—tired, always tired—pull yourself together, Maeve.
All the same, she fluffed up her hair a bit and tried to rub a bit of color into her cheeks before she walked in to see them.
The living room was chaos. Barbies everywhere, popcorn open on the table, spilling out; a board game started but not finished, empty Coke cans… and now Zoey had clearly insisted on a beauty tutorial.
Maeve rolled her lips together to stop from laughing at the sight of them, Brodie’s hair pushed back with a headband, each of their faces slathered with a green face mask, cucumber slices over their eyes.
“You’re too early!” Zoey lifted a cucumber. “We’re not ready for you to come back.”
But Brodie jumped up off the couch, whipping the slices of cucumber off and eating one whole. “I think we’re ready,” he said, and Maeve got the wary impression he’d been ready for some time.
She felt some of her excitement dissipate. “Sorry, I didn’t know how long I was going to be.”
Brodie grinned, cracking the mask as he said, “It’s not a problem! We’ve had a great time, haven’t we?” He glanced back at Zoey.
Maeve wondered if she was being over-cautious, aware that her hesitancy was perhaps too entrenched.
“I’m going to wash this off.” He pointed to his face mask and disappeared into the downstairs cloakroom.
She started clearing up the empty packets. “You have a good time, Zo?”
“The best!” Zoey said, trying not to move her face as she spoke so that the mask didn’t crack.
Maeve felt the flutter again. Nervous but excited. “Great.”
She was in the kitchen, getting rid of the trash, when Brodie came to the doorway and, still with the remains of some of the clay around the sides of his face, said, “I’m going to head off.”
Maeve nodded, she realized her fingers were trembling. She’d been going to offer him a drink but instead she said, “Okay, yeah, fine, I’ll walk you out.”
He went ahead, she tried not to be distracted by the lingering scent of him, the pull of his T-shirt across his back, the curl of blond hair at the nape of his neck.Keep it professional, Maeve.
He stopped by the living room. Too busy trying not to look at him, she collided into his back. Nose pressed into the soft cotton of his T-shirt. “Sorry!” She jumped away. “Sorry.”
He seemed unfazed, just turned and raised a brow. “You okay?” he said.
“Fine!” she replied brightly.
Then leaning into the living room doorway, he said, “Bye, Zoey,” all Brodie-esque cool.
“Bye,” she called back.
