Read Online Coming Home (Only Time Will Tell #1) by Caroline Spencer - Free Book Online
Authors: Caroline Spencer
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blindsided by him bringing me my lunch that I momentarily forgot? Forgetting that we aren’t kids and even though it felt stupidly normal and acceptable it’s not. I don’t think it’s just him that’s trying to pick up where we left off, it feels like I am too. Letting him back in my life and acting like nothing changed. Well, it has. A lot has changed and not for the better. Nothing can move forward with us until we’ve dealt with the past. Not that you can deal with it, it lives with me everyday. But he has the right to know the whole story and why I had a bigger need to get in contact with him. It wasn’t just for love.
At about ten past, after I've paced the office about ten times, he finally runs through the office doorway, slightly disheveled and out of breath. “Sorry. I got held up.”
“That's fine. I love staying here longer than I need to,” I reply sarcastically. “Have you got my keys?”
“Here,” he says as he digs through his jacket pocket and hands them to me. “I found my cell, too.”
“Oh goodie.” I sigh. “Couldn't it have waited? You had to come up here and blab your mouth?”
“Nah. It was funnier coming up here and seeing their reaction. I knew you wouldn't tell them, you always did keep shit like that to yourself.”
I chuck my keys in my purse, “Well, thanks for that. I now have an interrogation coming up tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” he asks as he shoves his hands into his pant pockets. “So, you’re free tonight?”
“Yes, why?”
“I just wondered if you wanted to come back to mine?” he says, slipping a hand out his pocket and taking my free, now shaking hand.
I try and concentrate on him and not the feeling of my heart somersaulting in my chest. “Yours? Will Josie mind?”
“Josie? You been asking about me Miss James?”
I snatch my hand away from his, crossing my arms over my chest feeling uncomfortable. “No. It was just mentioned.”
He looks at me like he knows I'm lying, but doesn't pursue it any longer. “So, what do you say? You going to come to mine or what? I really just wanna crash out on the couch with you and watch a movie, like old times, and we can't do that at yours. Those things you call couches are painful.”
“Aww, can't you hack it in your old age?” I tease.
“Less of the old. You'll be my age next year.”
“Yes,” I say, stabbing my finger into his chest, “but you'll still be that year older than me. I won't let you forget that.”
After a lot of delegation I give in. I came up with every excuse under the sun to get out of it, but he wouldn’t let me win it. My head and heart is going through turmoil and he thinks I’m just being a pain in the ass. If only he knew what was really happening inside my skull, maybe then he’d understand why being the old is painful.
It's a short ride to Kyle's.
We pull up outside a huge apartment complex; two white buildings fill most of the land, the while rest is filled with amenities and a parking lot. It has a modern Spanish vibe to it, with its terracotta roof, square carved columns and angled balconies.
I'm a nervous wreck as we're standing side-by-side, silently, in the private elevator to his apartment. It makes me uneasy as he punches the code in the keypad. He’s clearly hiding it from me-not that I'd ever have need to use it-but it makes me think of all the women I'd seen on Google earlier. Maybe it's a habit, maybe he always does this when he brings a female back. That gets me thinking about why I'm actually here. Is he planning on me being another notch on the headboard? An old notch, I'll give you that, but am I just here to dig all the dirt and grime out of said notch? God, I hate thinking.
By the time the bell pings, the onset of nerves is getting the better of me. My stomach is rolling, my skin becoming clammy and it feels like I'm standing in a blazing fire- phew!
I follow him out, walking behind him like the floor is made of Jell-O and not
At about ten past, after I've paced the office about ten times, he finally runs through the office doorway, slightly disheveled and out of breath. “Sorry. I got held up.”
“That's fine. I love staying here longer than I need to,” I reply sarcastically. “Have you got my keys?”
“Here,” he says as he digs through his jacket pocket and hands them to me. “I found my cell, too.”
“Oh goodie.” I sigh. “Couldn't it have waited? You had to come up here and blab your mouth?”
“Nah. It was funnier coming up here and seeing their reaction. I knew you wouldn't tell them, you always did keep shit like that to yourself.”
I chuck my keys in my purse, “Well, thanks for that. I now have an interrogation coming up tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” he asks as he shoves his hands into his pant pockets. “So, you’re free tonight?”
“Yes, why?”
“I just wondered if you wanted to come back to mine?” he says, slipping a hand out his pocket and taking my free, now shaking hand.
I try and concentrate on him and not the feeling of my heart somersaulting in my chest. “Yours? Will Josie mind?”
“Josie? You been asking about me Miss James?”
I snatch my hand away from his, crossing my arms over my chest feeling uncomfortable. “No. It was just mentioned.”
He looks at me like he knows I'm lying, but doesn't pursue it any longer. “So, what do you say? You going to come to mine or what? I really just wanna crash out on the couch with you and watch a movie, like old times, and we can't do that at yours. Those things you call couches are painful.”
“Aww, can't you hack it in your old age?” I tease.
“Less of the old. You'll be my age next year.”
“Yes,” I say, stabbing my finger into his chest, “but you'll still be that year older than me. I won't let you forget that.”
After a lot of delegation I give in. I came up with every excuse under the sun to get out of it, but he wouldn’t let me win it. My head and heart is going through turmoil and he thinks I’m just being a pain in the ass. If only he knew what was really happening inside my skull, maybe then he’d understand why being the old is painful.
It's a short ride to Kyle's.
We pull up outside a huge apartment complex; two white buildings fill most of the land, the while rest is filled with amenities and a parking lot. It has a modern Spanish vibe to it, with its terracotta roof, square carved columns and angled balconies.
I'm a nervous wreck as we're standing side-by-side, silently, in the private elevator to his apartment. It makes me uneasy as he punches the code in the keypad. He’s clearly hiding it from me-not that I'd ever have need to use it-but it makes me think of all the women I'd seen on Google earlier. Maybe it's a habit, maybe he always does this when he brings a female back. That gets me thinking about why I'm actually here. Is he planning on me being another notch on the headboard? An old notch, I'll give you that, but am I just here to dig all the dirt and grime out of said notch? God, I hate thinking.
By the time the bell pings, the onset of nerves is getting the better of me. My stomach is rolling, my skin becoming clammy and it feels like I'm standing in a blazing fire- phew!
I follow him out, walking behind him like the floor is made of Jell-O and not
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