The Speed of Light: A Novel(39)

“Mone, I can hear you,” Emmett says.

“Uh, should I go?” Connor sets the mug down and rubs the back of his neck.

No. As much as I don’t want him pulled into my family drama so soon, I’m not ready for him to leave quite yet.

Emmett scoffs. “No way, dude. You’re the only chance of distracting them. Or at least lessening the blow.” I narrow my eyes, and he grins mischievously. “Mom will have a million questions for your new boyfriend, Mone.”

My stomach flips, and I’m sure my face is the same shade as my Christmas-red pants as I glower at my brother. But underneath the table, a warm, strong hand slips into mine. I look up and Connor is smiling. “I can handle that.” He winks, and I return his grin, biting my lip. He leans down and nuzzles my neck, and I giggle.

“Gross,” Emmett says. “But keep doing that shit when they get up here. That’ll help for sure.”





CHAPTER NINETEEN

Turns out no amount of new-boyfriend excitement is enough to help my brother. Beyond my mom’s initial delighted smile and “Oh! Hello, Connor,” the only thing his presence does is mute my dad.

If it were just us, he would’ve torn into Emmett, yelling and swearing the moment he got in the door. But in front of a nonfamily member, Dad’s commands are clipped, his face red with the effort of holding back his anger. “What were you thinking, scaring your mother and me like that?” Emmett turns away from Dad, shrugging back into his coat. “Answer me, dammit.”

“I’m fine, Dad. I can handle driving to Sioux Falls by myself. I’m not a child.”

“But Em, what if you had an accident?” Mom is all worry and no anger, her hand on his arm. “And we had no idea where you were.”

“He did text, Mom,” I offer gently. “And he came here. It’s not like he met the guy on his own.”

Mom tsks. “But you don’t need any extra stress in your life right now, Monie. You need to be thinking about taking care of yourself.”

She turns to Emmett, already back to fretting over him, so my grimace goes unnoticed. Connor has retreated to the kitchen to provide space for the family argument, but in my peripheral vision I see his eyes on me.

“Let’s go,” Dad says. “We may have to drive slower if we have that damn thing in the back of the truck.”

I frown. “You guys sure you want to drive back this late?”

“Oh, we’re driving back, all right.” Dad’s eyes flash at Emmett. “You get to ride with me in the truck the whole way—and you’re going to school in the morning. If you are one minute late, you’re grounded even longer.”

Emmett’s shoulders slump, and I step forward to give him a hug. “It was good to see you, anyway.”

His arms fold around me. “You too, Mone.”

He looks up at Connor and waves. “Thanks again, man.”

Connor nods. “You bet.”

I hug my parents, and they promise to text when they’ve made it back safely. The door clicks behind them, the room is silent, and I walk to the window, watch as they drive away into the twinkling darkness of the city. Connor’s arms wrap around me, warm and solid. “You’ve got a great family.”

I smile, rubbing his arms. “We’re . . . interesting, at least. Dad’s pretty hard on Emmett. And Mom . . . she worries about us both. A lot.” My voice catches and I clear my throat, grateful he’s behind me.

Connor’s arms slide back and his hands fall to my hips, spinning them around gently so we’re facing each other, lifting my chin so we’re eye to eye. “You’re strong, you know.” I scoff, roll my eyes, but swallow back a lump in my throat. “I mean it.” Then he leans down and kisses me softly.

“Thank you,” I whisper when he pulls back.

He kisses my forehead. “Well, tonight’s been an adventure.”

“You’re leaving?”

He raises his eyebrows, shrugs. “I don’t have to.”

I twist my hands together. “I was thinking . . . since you’re already here, maybe we could watch The Empire Strikes Back?”

“Sure, that would be great.” With a grin, he walks over and plops down on the couch.

But I don’t move. I wait until he looks up at me; then I smile and crane my head to the side. “I was thinking we could watch it in there.”

Connor’s eyes flit to the bedroom door, then back to mine.

“On the TV in my room,” I explain.

He smiles a little too big; his words come a little too fast. “Okay, yeah.” Then he leaps off the couch and follows me into the bedroom.

I gesture to the TV. “Want to get it ready? I’m going to use the bathroom quick.” After crossing the plush gray carpeted floor, I shut the bathroom door behind me with a soft click. In front of the mirror, I scrutinize my face—scrubbed clean from the shower—and my eyes fall on my little pink makeup case, sitting dutifully on the smooth white countertop. Some mascara would open up my eyes more. Foundation, maybe, to even out my skin? Girl, at the very least you need some damn lip gloss.

But I take a deep breath. He’s been looking at my bare face all night and hasn’t run away screaming—clearly there’s something he likes about it.