And maybe that's why I'm so drawn to Mariah. On some level, I have to admit she might be my own do over. The opportunity to right a wrong. The chance to redeem my soul and reclaim a little peace.
And that makes it even worse that I kissed her.
That I would do just about anything for the opportunity to kiss her again.
I force myself to pull my hand from her body, fingers clenching tight as I grip the wheel to stop myself from reaching for her again. It's a struggle, but I persevere, and by the time we pull into the garage that houses my parents’ UTVs, I'm feeling like maybe tonight won't be a total shit show. It'll be a hell of a lot easier to keep my hands off Mariah with an audience.
Climbing out quickly, I round the vehicle to open Mariah’s door. Once she's on her feet, I collect the strawberry-topped tresleches cake she made, holding it with both hands as we make our way inside. I haven’t been to my parents’ house in quite a while, definitely longer than it should have been, and it feels strange walking in. Not only because of the guilt I carry for shutting everyone out the way I have, but also because I have someone beside me. I've been alone—intentionally—for so long that I never expected there would be anyone I could tolerate in my space. Lucky me, my mother managed to find the most tolerable woman in the country to infiltrate my solitude.
The noise of my family carries through the house as Mariah and I close in on where everyone is in the kitchen, crowded around the island while my mom finishes cooking. She seems to sense our presence, and looks up, focusing on Mariah as we walk in. "There they are." Her eyes come to me but only to fix on the pan I'm carrying. "I'm so excited to see what you made."
Mariah's cheeks flush and she gives a little shrug. "I kept it kind of simple."
I set the cake onto the counter. "That's a lie. I watched her make it and it didn't seem simple in the slightest."
I love watching Mariah cook. The efficient and coordinated way she moves around the kitchen is soothing. Almost hypnotic.
Addictive.
"No shit it didn't seem simple to you." Tucker crowds in beside me, lifting the lid to peer at the dessert. "You can't even boil water."
"Yes he can," Mariah argues immediately. "He makes me tea all the time." She lifts her chin, looking offended that my brother would insult my abilities. "And he makes breakfast."
The room goes quiet as everyone stills.
My mother's brows climb her forehead. "Titus cooks?"
"I'm not inept, Mother." I turn to Mariah, absentmindedly working the buttons on her coat loose. "I was busy. Cooking stole time from all the work I had to do."
Again the room goes quiet, and it doesn't immediately register why. It's not until I've helped Mariah out of her coat andsmoothed down the blonde curls she wound into her hair that it registers why everyone is staring at me.Fuck. We haven't even been here five minutes and I've already accidentally got my hands on the chef my mother hired.
"I'm going to hang our coats up." I sling Mariah’s coat over my arm and stride out of the kitchen, needing a minute to reset. I don't understand what's wrong with me. I've successfully isolated myself from the world for over a decade. Managed to find some semblance of acceptance for what my life has become. Was completely confident the way I was living was for the best. That I wouldn't change it even if I could.
It's taken Mariah less than a month to prove all my claims and beliefs were bullshit.
At least where she's concerned. I'm still not thrilled about being here and facing the chaos that my family brings when they all get together. I would much rather be at home. Enjoying a quiet evening with her. Which is one more reason why it's probably in everyone's best interest that we’re here. Because if I can’t keep my hands off her with everyone watching, I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to do it if we were alone.
Going into the large walk-in closet that serves as my parents’ coat room, I go to work hanging Mariah's coat and mine. I take my time, hoping I’ll find some sense if I look hard enough.
But then I remember I've just left Mariah alone with my brothers. And that is so much worse than her being alone with me. Because if I put my hands on her, I'll beat myself up about it, but I've got no one else to be pissed at.
If one of them can't keep their hands off her? The ass that gets kicked won't be mine.
I turn, intending to rush right back to her side and serve as a barrier, but freeze when I find the very woman I'm going to seek out has found me first.
Mariah's expression is filled with concern as she steps into the closet, closing the door at her back. "Is everything okay?"
No. Nothing has been okay since the day she walked into myhouse. Everything has been upended. Turned sideways and stood on its head. All I thought I knew—all I thought I wanted—has been proven false.
And I can only ignore it for so long.
"I'm fine."
Mariah shakes her head. "No, you're not." She steps close. "I know this is a lot for you. We can leave right now if you want. I’ll go tell your mom I'm not feeling well and you need to take me home."
The gears in my head shift, directing my thoughts in a new and different direction. "Are you not feeling well?" I bring a palm to her forehead, feeling for clamminess or a fever. "Are you lightheaded?"
Mariah gives me a smile. "No, but I will happily claim I am if you want to go."
