Page 32 of Craving Theodora
As soon as I was done getting ready for the day, I went to check on Finn. Yesterday had been a long one, and I’d wondered how he would react. There were two options—he could’ve woken up at the ass crack of dawn because he was so excited to be in a new place with new people, or he could’ve crashed hard and slept in. He’d done the latter. When I opened his door, he was sprawled out on top of his sleeping bag, one hand flung over his head and the other over his face to block out the light shining through the window.
We really needed curtains or blinds. I added it to my mental list as I made my way downstairs.
I wasn’t sure how much time I had left before Curt and Jesse got back from their coffee run, but I figured I’d get started on unpacking some of our boxes while I waited. Dylan and Isla were sitting at the kitchen table, whispering, when I entered the room.
“Hey,” Dylan greeted, lifting his head.
“Hey,” I replied. I smiled at Isla, who smiled right back, if a little nervously.
I understood Curtis’s reaction the night before. They’d done something really stupid by bringing Isla to Oregon, but I couldn’t help but notice how adorable they were. You could tell by how she looked at him that Isla thought Dylan was the coolest, funniest, handsomest boy she’d ever seen. I couldn’t really blame her. He was the spitting image of his dad. Dylan, onthe other hand, looked at Isla like she was something precious. His normal teenage-boy cool turned into something else entirely in his interactions with her. I hadn’t been around them much, but he seemed to bend to her.
If only they were about ten years older, things would’ve been a lot simpler.
“It’s kind of weird,” I noted, mostly just for something to talk about. “How bare everything is. We’ve always rented furnished apartments, so we at least had something to sleep on.”
“Yeah, my Aunt Charlie and Uncle Bishop brought this over last night,” Dylan said, knocking on the kitchen table. “It was my Aunt Rose’s, but they bought something new, so they gave it to us.”
“Nice.”
“We sold pretty much everything except our beds and my dad’s recliner when we moved,” he continued. “It was all shit anyway. He said we’d just get new stuff here instead of having to move it all.”
“Makes sense,” I replied, leaning against the counter. “That’s pretty much what we did. I don’t enjoy moving things I can’t lift myself, so furnished places worked great.”
“You lived in California?” Isla asked. “I love California. We’ve been to Disneyland like four times!”
I smiled and nodded. “Happiest place on earth, right?”
“It really is,” she said with a sigh.
Sacramento wasn’t anywhere near Disneyland, and my kids had never been to the theme park. I’d gone with my parents and brothers when I was little, but as an adult, I’d never had the money for that kind of trip, and I also hadn’t wanted to be so far from my pop when he was sick.
“So you and my dad, huh?” Dylan said, his eyes steady on mine. “How did that happen?”
For a moment, I froze. The words had been calm and nonchalant, but the look on his face wasn’t. I had no idea how much Curtis had told his son, but it clearly wasn’t enough for Dylan’s liking, and he was hoping that I’d slip up and give him something more. He looked like a man, but I reminded myself he wasn’t. He was just a kid, and the fact that he was asking me, a practical stranger, while his dad wasn’t home, reminded me of how young Dylan really was.
“We met years ago,” I said, fighting the urge to fidget. Lies were best told when you believed they were true and gave the impression that you didn’t care if the other person believed you or not. “And then we started talking a few months ago.”
“Crazy,” he replied, nodding a little like he didn’t trust a word I was saying. “He didn’t say anything to me.”
“I didn’t tell Jess and Finn either,” I replied, holding his gaze. “Sometimes, you just want to make sure something’s right before you tell everyone about it, you know?”
Dylan opened his mouth to reply, but someone pounding on the front door made it snap shut again.
He immediately moved that way as my heart pounded in my ears.
“Dylan, wait,” I choked out, following him.
It couldn’t be David. As far as I knew, he wouldn’t be back in Sacramento for three more days. Even if someone had seen me leave, he wouldn’t have found me that quickly, and I doubted he would’ve cut his trip east short just to come back and fuck with me. That wasn’t his style. David never rushed anything. He thought and planned before striking.
I thought all that while I followed Dylan to the front door, and I was stunned when he didn’t even pause before he unlocked and swung it open.
Outside was a barrel-chested man with a salt-and-pepper beard, wearing a baseball cap and a T-shirt. Next to him was a small woman who looked just like Isla.
Before anyone could say a word, the man shoved his way inside, his gaze moving through the room until he found Isla in the entry to the kitchen.
“Mr. Williams,” Dylan said quickly, stepping into his path. “We—”
“Get out of my way,” the man, who was clearly Isla’s dad, growled.
