Chapter Twenty-Six
My boyfriend - a conceptwhich I suspected would feel deeply strange for some time to come - looked like he might be ready to pass out.With how red Flynn’s face still was, you had to wonder just how much blood there was available for his extremities.
“Are you okay?”
His nod was jerky, his stare somewhat distant.Like he was still trying to process everything, and coming up well short.
“What did you and my dad talk about?Other than wildflower burns, I mean.”
That prompted a chuckle, at least.“A very gentle version of ‘what are your intentions toward my son,’ really.”
I sat down, along from him on the couch.“To which you said...”
“Oh, entirely honorable, of course.”
“How disappointing.”
Flynn flashed me an unimpressed glare.“He was very...matter-of-fact, about it all.”
“Like he’d guessed about me?”I wasn’t certain if that was a reassuring thought or a terrifying one.
“No, just that he was taking it all in his stride.He kept saying ‘as long as you boys are happy,’ anyway.”
The lump was back in my throat.I swallowed, awkwardly.
“How about your mom?”
The conversation had only been minutes ago, but already there was a haze in my memory.Adrenaline fleeing me, and taking clarity with it.“She was surprised, I think.And indignant, at the idea that I might use them as an excuse not to move.”
“You told her you didn’t want to?”Flynn’s expression was scrupulously bland.
“I told her I was scared to,” I corrected.“Which is true.Just like it’s true that I do want to move in with you.”
“In the spare room,” he reminded me.
I smiled.“Right, in the spare room.”
He frowned, looking thoughtful.“I guess I can just knock on the wall, when I’m hoping for a conjugal visit.Or, we could even cut a hole through.”
