Lauren smiled and rolled her eyes. “Which means you aced it.”
He laughed at her annoyance, his expression confused. “Why are you saying that?”
She lazily rolled her head to the side, looking at him. “You always used to do that. You’d always belittle how you thought you did on a test, and you’d end up blowing it out of the water.”
“That,” he said, pointing at her with his bottle of water, “is absolutely not true.”
“Sure it is. The ones you failed, you blew off on purpose. But when you actually cared about a class?” She moved her hand through the air smoothly. “Straight A’s. Just like that.”
He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “Apparently, your memory of me is a little warped.”
Lauren felt her smile drop. “No, I don’t think it is,” she said softly, looking away from him.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him looking at her, although she couldn’t make out his expression. Eventually, he turned his head, slowly spinning the cap back on his water bottle. She heard him take a small breath before he cleared his throat.
“So,” he said tentatively, “do you like living in Bellefonte? Or do you miss home?”
Lauren inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the awkwardness of that last moment between them. “I like it here. I mean, of course I miss home, but I see my parents whenever I want, and I have dinner with Jenn once a month, so,” she said with a shrug.
“Jenn?” Michael said, his brow lifted. “Jenn Powell? You guys are still friends?”
Lauren laughed softly, remembering their tumultuous relationship. “Yes.”
“Holy shit. Jenn Powell,” he said slowly. He shook his head and leaned against the couch. “Is she still the same?”
“You’d probably think so, yes.”
He smirked. “So is that who you were with last weekend?”
Lauren bit her lip, the corners of her mouth going up. “No, I was out with a friend.”
Michael looked at her for a second before he nodded. “Ah,” he said in understanding. “Well…did you have a good time?” There was a forced casualness to his tone now, like he knew it was the appropriate question to ask, even though he had no desire to hear the answer.
She looked down, a tiny smile on her lips as she thought back to the previous weekend. “Yeah, I did. It was…nice,” she said, her smile growing a bit more pronounced.
She felt Michael shift beside her. “Did you meet this guy at school?”
This time, Lauren pressed her lips together, but they twisted up in spite of her attempt. “No, he was my do and turned to look at her.ck you toctor. My chiropractor, actually.”
There was a beat of silence before she heard a grunted, “Hmmph.”
She turned her head toward him. “What?” she asked, trying not to sound defensive.
He looked at her, his expression derisive. “Must be a good guy.”
She shifted toward him fully now, folding her arms as her brow knitted together. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh come on,” he said, his expression matching his condescending tone. “Aren’t there rules against that kind of thing? Aren’t there lines doctors aren’t supposed to cross with their patients? I don’t know. The kind of guy that would take advantage of something like that just doesn’t earn himself any points in my book.”
Lauren could feel the need to justify herself—to justify Adam—swelling in her chest, battling with the overwhelming desire to tell him to mind his own business. She felt her teeth come together, and she took a steadying breath, trying to keep herself calm. Was he really going to have the audacity to sit there and question Adam’s morality? After what he’d done to her?
“I’m sorry, do you even know him?” she snapped. “And I’m pretty sure it’s not your book he needs to be earning himself points in anyway.” Despite her best efforts, the bitterness was dripping from her tone.
Michael was looking at the water bottle as he rolled it slowly in his hands, his expression unreadable.
“And what about you?” she asked, turning roughly back toward the TV. “Still dating the winners?”
For a minute, there was nothing but the quiet murmur of the television between them, and Lauren thought he might not answer her. But then he spoke, his voice so soft that she almost had to strain to hear it.
“No. I don’t date anymore.”
Instantly Lauren felt the anger drain from her body at his tone. She hated that his vulnerability still had that effect on her. She inhaled slowly and blew her breath out in a huff, ridding herself of the last bit of animosity she had been feeling toward him. Wasn’t she supposed to be over those feelings anyway? Hadn’t she promised Jenn she’d left that all behind her?
“Yeah, I guess you don’t have the time, huh,” she said softly.
“No, I could make the time if I wanted to. But…I won’t do that to her.”
Lauren turned toward him. “To who?”
“Her,” he said, motioning behind him to Erin. “I’m not gonna go out there and play the field, date around. She gets very attached to people. And I’m not gonna…”
He looked down, pulling his brow together, and Lauren watched his shoulders rise before he lifted his eyes back to hers. “I would never allow someone into this house unless I knew they were worthy of her.”
Lauren’s breath caught in her throat. There was no mistaking the meaning behind his words, behind the look in his eyes. There was no ignoring the fact that she was in his home right now, caring for his daughter. Lauren stared at him, unmoving, and as her breathing finally picked back up, so did her heart rate.
She knew at that moment that coming to Michael’s house was a bad idea. Between Erin’s earlier comment, the photo album, and now this, she could feel emotions brewing inside her that were supposed to be long gone.he corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. , le
It suddenly felt like there was a magnet in her chest, like some unseen force was pulling her toward him. Lauren pressed her hands into the carpet, trying to stop the imperceptible forward motion of her body.
What did her body even want her to do? Hug him? Kiss him? Rest her head on his shoulder in comfortable silence, the way she had so many times before?
His gaze was implacable, and as much as she tried, as much as she knew she needed to, she couldn’t look away from him.
Her heart leapt into her throat when finally, he moved toward her. It was the tiniest movement, but she noticed it nonetheless.
“Lauren,” he said, his voice gentle, and suddenly it was like someone dumped a bucket of water over her head. She jerked back slightly, her eyes widening.
“I think she’s asleep,” she said, looking everywhere but him as she fumbled to stand up. “I…I, um…should probably go.”
She stood quickly, her movements uncoordinated, and he moved back to his original position, his eyes on the floor.
“Yeah, you should go,” he said, running a hand through his hair and nodding, like he had just convinced himself that what he was saying was true.
Lauren hurried into the kitchen and grabbed her purse, concentrating on slowing her breath. She needed to get the hell out of there. Quickly.
No sooner than she had her purse in her hands, she heard the soft cry. “I don’t feel good. I need the bucket!”
Lauren rushed back to the living room just in time to see Michael jump up and grab the bucket. He held it in front of Erin as she retched over it, missing the bucket slightly and getting some on Michael’s hands and the floor.
She put her purse down and turned toward the kitchen, gathering some paper towels and wetting some. By the time she came back into the living room, it was over, and Michael was speaking in soft, reassuring tones to Erin as she laid back down on the couch.
Lauren knelt beside him, using the wet paper towels to wipe his hands, and he glanced over at her. “Thank you,” he said softly, and she nodded, looking away from him to start wiping the floor.