Unravel(65)

My opinion matters to him. And even as a kid it had mattered. That’s what makes Lachlan my safety net—I will always matter to him.

“Of course! I love it.”

We both get out of the car. He goes to the trunk and grabs my bag. “What made you choose this place?” I ask.

He slings my bag over his shoulder and grabs my hand. We walk to his house, side by side. “Small. Surrounded by solitude. What’s not to love?”

We stomp the snow away from our shoes as we walk across the porch. Lachlan unlocks the front door and flips the light on next to the door.

There’s a small entryway that leads directly into the kitchen. Probably one of the smallest kitchens I’ve seen, with old appliances the color of avocado.

He drops his keys on the counter and wordlessly guides me to the living room. It’s the biggest room in the house. There is just a beige rug, with a brown leather couch, chair and end table designed around it and a television in the corner. The last piece of decoration is a dozen boxes shoved against the wall.

I point at the boxes. “I love the way you’ve decorated the place.” Lachlan leans against the wall and grins. “It took me a long time.”

I walk forward, looking at each piece of furniture. “I can tell.”

“Tell me, Interior Decorator Naomi, what would you do differently?”

“Well, for one thing, I would put curtains up.” I point to the bay window. “And they would be lace curtains. I would paint the walls a pale yellow. I would keep the rug you have now. Hang some pictures up. Find some beautiful flowers and I would make sure that the bay window was filled with pillows, so I could relax and stare outdoors any time I wanted.”

“That sounds like a lot of work.”

For him, yes. But if I lived with him, I would do it myself and I would do it with the biggest smile on my face.

“You’re thinking,” Lachlan says.

I correct him, “I’m imagining.”

“Same thing.”

He walks into the kitchen. I hear cabinets open and close. “I knew you would love this place,” he calls out.

I follow Lachlan. “You did?”

He grabs two plates and fills them up with food.

“Of course,” he says absently. “The realtor showed me the house and when I saw the bay window I remember you talking about that as a kid.”

“So technically this house is half mine,” I tease.

Lachlan hands me my plate. I try to take it away. Lachlan keeps his grip. He won’t let go until I look at him. When I finally do, I see the intense look in his eyes.

“Half yours? It’s all yours.”

I just stare at him. He isn’t lying.

“Come on,” Lachlan says. “Let’s eat in the living room.”

We sit in companionable silence and eat our food.

“Are you excited to be out of there?” he asks.

“I can’t believe it,” I confess. “There’s no 20-minute outside breaks. Or a nurse knocking on your door every hour on the hour. I don’t have to hear the constant sound of voices outside my door, and I don’t have to sleep in that terrible room. Plus, the food is much, much better.”

“Yeah?” he asks with a small grin.

I nod. “Burned meatloaf and runny mac and cheese are about as good as it gets there.”

Lachlan swallows. “Does everyone eat together?”

“Mostly. Unless you’ve done something wrong. Then you eat in your room.”

Beneath his slanted brows, his eyes turn hard. I know I’ve said too much. He’s thinking about Fairfax. I’m thinking about Fairfax and I don’t want to. His house was a place that was free from all the dark things looming over me. It should stay that way.

I want to take my words back and start over. I look down at my food, suddenly not feeling hungry at all. I stand up and walk back to the kitchen, putting my plate on the counter. When I walk back into the living room, Lachlan stares straight at me with confusion. I stare at him for a second before I turn off the lights. Slowly making my way to the large window, I cross my arms and stare outside.

Lachlan’s house sits on a hill. From here, I can see the lights of the city flickering bright. I picture people inside their houses, all relaxed and calm. It puts me at peace. It makes me want to stay right here forever.

“What are you doing?” Lachlan asks.

I tap my nail against the glass. “Looking at the view.”

“With the lights off?”

“It’s the best way to see.”

If I was at Fairfax, I wouldn’t see this picture in front of me and I wouldn’t feel this way. Right now, if I want to, I can reach out and touch and experience the world I’m looking at.

Lachlan scoots his chair back. I hear his footsteps and drawers opening and shutting.

Snick. Snick.

It’s a familiar sound that makes my heart speed up.

It takes only seconds for an amber glow to light the room. I look over my shoulder and see Lachlan holding a match in between his fingers. Not a lighter. But a simple matchbook. Just like the ones we used to light off fireworks.

He smirks at me mischievously. His eyes glow brightly from the flame. There is enough heat in his eyes to make me swallow loudly.

“What are you doing?” I ask.