Page 80 of When the Time Is Right
Earlier that week, she’d gone with Jack and me to pick up the new puppy. After listening to over an hour of him groaning about getting a girl dog, she’d tickled him into submission. Together, they’d named the poor pup Jesse. Lex had been sneaking into my place every night that week to endure the torture of three-a.m. puppy potty training with me while Jack slept right through the incessant whining—mine, not the dog. With Jack back at Lauren’s, we’d decided to try to introduce Jesse to Beep and Boop for a few nights. Boop thoroughly traumatized Jesse, but much to our surprise, Beep was a nurturer. At least that’s what Lex told me a million times as she followed them around the house while I sat on her couch and drank a beer.
Regardless of who was sleeping where and how many pets were swirling around beneath our feet, Lex and I were together every night. Finding her in my house when I got home from a long day’s work was a high I was seriously getting used to.
“Cover for the Chevelle then pizza,” I mumbled against her mouth. “But just a heads-up, we are getting it to go and you are eating it naked.”
She smiled. “I didn’t know I was allowed to eat with clothes on when we have the house to ourselves.”
God, I loved her. Not that I’d told her yet. Well, I mean, I had, but never when she was conscious since we’d made things official. But fuck, if I didn’t think it would freak her out, I’d be saying it every day until my lungs ran out of air.
Intertwining our fingers, I gave her a tug toward her storage unit.
Her phone rang and she dug it out of her pocket. “Oh, crap. This is Mom. She’s already in panic mode planning Vanessa’s baby shower. I told her we should probably wait until she’s more than twelve seconds pregnant, but you know Mom when someone says the word baby.” She extended a set of keys in my direction. “Go ahead and grab the cover. I’ll talk her off the ledge of pink and blue streamers.” She shooed me away and then answered the call, saying, “Talk to me, Judy.”
Chuckling, I sifted through the keys on the ring and walked to her unit. I hadn’t been there often, but I’d come with her to put the Chevelle away a time or two. She was pacing and informing her mother that a gender reveal was radically different than a sex party when I put the key into the lock. I twisted, but it didn’t budge. I tried again to no avail. Leaning back, I checked the number on the unit. I could have sworn that she had 107. Though maybe it had been 106. I moved one to the left and tried the key in that lock. It popped open immediately.
With one arm, I shoved up the rolling door, and then time stopped.
Or maybe it didn’t stop as much as it transported me into the past.
A knot formed in my stomach as I swung my gaze around the dust-covered trip down memory lane.
Dirt Bikes. Trophies. A motorcycle. Boxes stacked as high as the ceiling. Fishing poles lined the back, and there was an entire shelf of custom helmets.
I recognized each and every one of them because they’d all belonged to Brenden.
The wave of grief that rolled out of that storage unit was almost enough to knock me on my ass, and it completely stole my breath.
Why the hell did she still have this stuff? Brenden had been gone for over six years. Short of a few photo albums and a box of his stuff in the top of her closet, I’d had no idea she’d kept anything. As far as I had known, when Cal and I had moved her out of the house she and Brenden had shared, everything he’d owned was going to his parents.
So how the hell had she ended up with all of this?
And, worse, why did she still have it?
There had to be an explanation.
“Um, Lex,” I called out, putting my chin to my shoulder to catch her gaze.
Her green eyes collided with mine, but as they drifted to the open door, her wide smile melted away. “I’ve got to go, Mom. I’ll call you later.” She quickly hung up.
Silently, I watched as she hurried my way, trying to force her mouth into a grin even as the color drained from her face.
“That’s the wrong unit, silly.” She grabbed the cord and gave it a tug, attempting to close the door, but I caught the top and propped it open. “Hudson, stop. The cover for the Chevelle is next door.” Her voice shook and it rattled me to the core.
If there was an explanation and she wasn’t hiding this, why did she seem so fucking nervous?
