Crazy (The Gibson Boys #4)(30)

“Oh, no,” I say. “I enjoyed meeting your grandmother. I’m glad you took me.”

He gets a glass out of a cabinet. He opens the refrigerator and takes out the milk. His nose wrinkles after he unscrews the cap. “That’s spoiled.”

“I thought so. I’ll go to the store tomorrow.”

The milk hits the trash with a thud. “I can go. I just usually don’t bother because it’s just me, and I don’t eat here a lot.”

“Is there a reason behind that?” I ask.

“Behind what?”

“You not eating here?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I just …” He shifts his weight. “If I tell you something, you won’t laugh at me?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Which means you will.” He grins.

“Which means I’ll do my best. Try me.”

Stop. Talking. Dylan.

Luckily, he takes my words at face value and doesn’t read into the innuendo. I grab a seat at the table partly because my legs are a little weak and partly because it gives me a better vantage point.

He leans against the counter, his hair wet from the shower. Like me, he’s barefoot. I couldn’t paint a more delicious picture if I tried.

Still, something in his eyes mutes the vision. I brace myself for what he might say.

“When I was a little kid, I was alone a lot,” he says. “Nana and Pops babysat me most of the time when I was a really little kid, but once I was six or seven, I was in school and stayed with my parents more. Theoretically, anyway. They were usually gone.”

“So, you were home by yourself?”

“Most of the time.” His face sobers. “I remember coming home and making myself a plate of tortilla chips and cheese and watching television. And all these families on the sitcoms had big meals together, and I always thought how great that would be—to come home and sit down and have someone ask you about your day. To be there every single day.”

My chest tugs. I can just imagine this blue-eyed, angel-haired little boy sitting alone waiting. It breaks my heart. How could his parents leave him like that?

“I guess now I just … I still like that idea. And because I have no one here, I go to Walker’s or Lance’s.”

“Why don’t you have anyone here?” I ask softly. “I mean, I’m one-hundred percent sure you could have a girlfriend if you wanted one.”

He shrugs. “Probably. I guess I could.”

“So why don’t you?”

“You’re pushy, you know that?”

“I think you’ve known that since the day we met.”

He laughs. “I think you’re right.”

I wait for him to answer my question. When he doesn’t, I press on.

“So?” I ask.

“So what?”

“So what’s your story? Why is a guy like you single?”

I pull my legs up on the chair. His eyes whip to my legs as I draw them up. My body heats from the weight of his gaze, and I try not to melt into the chair.

He looks up at me. “Why is a girl like you single?”

“Well, to be honest, I had a boyfriend not too long ago.”

“What happened to him?”

“He left me for the woman he was engaged to before.” My insides twist as I remember the phone call when he delivered the news that he was not, in fact, coming back to Indiana. That he was staying in Wisconsin with “the love of his life.” “He loved her first, and I can’t compete with that.”

Peck walks across the room and sits across from me. The scent of his body wash caresses me as he gets situated. Every cell in my body responds, becoming fully awake at his presence.

“That guy must’ve been an idiot,” Peck says.

“I’ll agree to that.” I give him a small smile. “So I answered you. Now, you answer me.”

He leans back in the chair. His body is long and lean as he looks at me over the bundle of bananas in the center of the table.

“I don’t know, really,” he says carefully. “I guess I’ve never made it far enough with a woman to ask her to move in.”

“Does this mean you and I have made it farther than you and anyone else?” I tease. “I’m so honored.”

He snorts, clearly amused at my take on the situation. “We’ll be starting a family soon.”

I think about that. “I’ve never really been dead-set on having a family.”

“Why?”

“Because my family is … a hassle. It doesn’t sound terrible to think about only having to take care of myself for a change. I sort of shunned all deep relationships for most of my life because it felt too exhausting to have to manage them.” I think about my relationship with Charlie and how I kind of forgot that for a minute. “But then I met Charlie, and it felt manageable to me for the first time. Probably because he was on the rebound, and I didn’t know it, so he was telling me all the sweet and precious things.” I laugh at myself. “And then he was on ‘a business trip’ which means a secret trip to reconcile with his ex. Then it wasn’t so manageable anymore.”

“He fucking what?” He shakes his head. “He’s an asshole, Dylan. Didn’t deserve you.”