Silently, I cursed my mother. I should’ve known she wouldn’t be able to keep this from Dad. Thankfully, Dad and I were talking on the phone and not on Skype so he couldn’t see my murderous expression. “Mmm-hmm.”
“Don’t ‘mmm-hmm’ me. Were you ever going to tell me?”
“There’s not much to tell, Dad.”
“That boy broke your heart. I don’t want him near enough to do it again.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“I’m not convinced.”
“Dad, I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
Dad sighed, causing the line to crackle. “You were just a kid, Charlotte, and he changed you. One minute you were happier than I’d ever seen you, and the next you were closed off. I didn’t like having to watch that.”
I bowed my head, feeling at once loved and sorry that I’d done that to my family. “I’m not anymore,” I promised him softly.
“You sure about that, sweetheart? Because I don’t see any other boy hanging around. Let’s not even get started on Alex.”
“I don’t want to talk about Alex, either, Dad. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Maybe you should come home.”
I laughed and then immediately sighed. “I’m okay. I won’t do anything stupid. Lesson learned.”
“You know you can still trust people, Charley, without it turning into another lesson. I think Jake is just this reminder that you can’t depend on people, and I don’t want my daughter feeling that way.”
“I don’t feel that way about people … I feel that way about Jake. There’s a difference.”
“Then why are you hanging around the boy?”
“Because he’s friends with my friends,” I lied.
Before my dad could say anything else, I heard Mom calling him to get his breakfast. It was Saturday, early there, and Dad had called before he had to head to work. It would’ve been nice to talk to him about something other than Jake.
“Got to go, sweetheart. You take care, all right? We’ll speak soon. Love you.”
“Me too. Bye, Dad.”
I hung up and growled at my cell. I was going to kill my mother.
Hearing masculine laughter from the kitchen, I wondered if it was Beck and decided to go in and keep him and Claud company. The two of them were very busy pretending everything was cool between them. However, Claudia confided it helped when they weren’t alone.
And yet they still spent time alone together. That completely made sense. Not.
Strolling into the kitchen, I discovered it wasn’t just Beck and Claud in there. Lowe, Jake, Gemma, and Matt were sitting around chatting.
“Hey,” I greeted as I came to a stop near Jake. We’d been to the gym together since our little chat outside at the gates. We’d also grabbed coffee and taken a stroll through Regent Gardens and into Leith, wandering around the cold city and talking about everything. Everything except us. We’d distracted ourselves from that by joking around in tourist shops trying on tartan hats with ginger hair glued inside them, and drinking Starbucks while we nibbled on sugary Scottish tablet that made our teeth ache. I’d also attempted to take a photograph of Jake standing next to a bagpiper dressed in full tartan regalia. The piper— not the same guy every time— stood on the corner of Princes Street and Waverly Station. He wasn’t there every day but he was there a lot, and I got used to his pipes playing the soundtrack to my life in Scotland. Some people didn’t like the pipes, but for me they were like this sentient being that totally got me. As soon as I neared New Town it was like those pipes sensed me and whatever mood I was in its tune would change, as if it was saying, ‘Me too’. Some days it was lively, its high pitched song in harmony with me as it said, ‘I’m feeling good today too. The air is crisp, I’m in a land full of mystery, and I feel up for an adventure’. Other days, more often of late since Jake came so thoroughly back into my life, the pipe’s song swung from reflective to almost mournful. Sometimes I’d stand on the opposite side of the street, the pedestrians and traffic quieting to a hum beneath the pipe’s story. Like Scotland itself, the melancholy tune was quiet, dignified, braving life and keeping the secret of its pain buried. Its haunting wail never failed to cause the hair on the back of my neck to rise. Twice now Jake had come upon me just standing there listening to it. Twice now he’d just looked at me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking but was afraid to bring it up—an action (or inaction rather) that was becoming common between us.
After the guys greeted me, Jake suddenly reached up, grabbed my hand, and jerked me down onto the arm of his chair in an unconsciously familiar move. When I looked at him, he just gave me a small smile and turned back to listen to what Beck was saying.
I, on the other hand, searched the room to see if anyone’s expression resembled mine. My eyes immediately locked on Lowe, his eyebrow raised in my direction.
Shrugging at his silent question, I watched on bemused as he smiled and took a sip of his soda. While I stewed over Jake’s behavior, Lowe returned his focus to Beck and Claudia.
Glancing down at Jake, I tried to ignore the squeeze in my belly as I watched him smile at whatever Beck was saying. He had enviously thick eyelashes and a beautiful mouth. A perfect mouth. I’d spent hours when we were together nibbling on his lower lip, which was classically fuller than his top.
Sensing my study, Jake looked up at me and I covered my longing with feigned casualness. “Where are Melissa, Den, and Row?”
“Mel’s with some friends and Den and Row are still sleeping.”
I nodded, relaxing more now that I realized Melissa wasn’t going to be appearing out of the bathroom and asking me why on earth I was perched on the arm of her boyfriend’s chair. “What have you all been talking about?”
Claudia whirled around, her long hair whipping Beck in the chest. He barely flinched, silently telling us he was used to it. I knew I was. She once almost took out my eye with her hair whip.
“We’re talking about Thanksgiving. Since none of us are going home for it, I thought we could bring it to us. I’ve offered to do the cooking.”
I didn’t argue with that. Although Claudia only cooked when she could be bothered, she was actually pretty good at it. “Sounds great.”
“Why am I turned on at the thought of Claud and Char cooking for us?” Matt asked, seeming genuinely bemused by his predicament.