With hands that shook, she pulled her hood up higher on her blond hair. “Forgive me.”
“Oh, there’s nothing to apologize for. Everyone trips. I—ah, what did you say your name was?”
She hadn’t, actually. But he didn’t want to come across as demanding.
And when the sounds of their feet schmucking through pockets of mud were the only thing that came back in reply, he felt like maybe he had been.
They were halfway to Luchas House when her voice, quiet and heavily accented, drifted across to him. “Elyn. Please call me Elyn.”
“That’s beautiful—” He cleared his throat. “I mean, wow.”
He took a test glance at her in case she was staring at him like he was a creeper, but she wasn’t. She was clearly deep in thought, her brows down over her eyes, even as she didn’t appear to be focused on anything specific in front of her. And as they fell silent again, Nate’s brain hot-fired to find conversation . . . except all he got were no-go’s—and the fact that he couldn’t come up with anything even remotely normal to say made him realize what a frickin’ mutant he was.
But like he’d been socialized in that lab? By anything other than the white coats who’d been experimenting on him and that television they’d let him watch?
Lost in bad things, he came out of his trance as they arrived at the split-rail fence. He had a thought about lifting the top one off for her, but she slipped through the beams quick as a whistle and waited on the other side for him.
“This is a nice farmhouse, huh,” he mumbled. Because he had to say something or he was going to explode. “I’m working on it—well, worked on it. We’re basically done with the renovations.”
As he led her around to the front walkway, he thought of her accent. It was really fancy, like his dad’s. Like Rhage’s. She probably wasn’t going to be impressed with a blue-collar job like the one he’d been doing. And as all that he did not have to offer females in general, and her specifically, crashed against the shores of his self-esteem, he got as quiet as she was.
Yup, this was not how his fantasies had played things out. Which was proof positive you shouldn’t let wishful thinking get in the way of reality. In his daydreams? He’d found her out by that pit and invited her for a meal at that 24-hour diner he and Shuli hit after work sometimes. Over hamburgers and slices of apple pie, they talked about everything and nothing at all until right before it became too dangerous to stay out—and just before the sun rose, he took her back to her parents’ house, where she gave him her number and told him to call during the day.
It was all the start of a beautiful romance . . . that culminated in, one week to the hour of their first date, him kissing her. Softly. While they stood on her back doorstep.
And because it was all just a fantasy, that kiss happened to be, in spite of him having absolutely no idea what he was doing, totally perfect for the both of them—
“Hi, you guys!”
As Mrs. Mary greeted them from the front door of the farmhouse, she waved and stepped out into the pool of warm illumination thrown by an exterior coach light. The good news was that Rhage’s female was exactly what anyone would want to see if they were looking for a safe haven: Her face was open and her smile sincere—which made her seem like somebody who’d be good at giving hugs.
No false advertising there.
Abruptly, people started talking. Mary. Rhage. And one of the social workers, Rhym, who also joined the group. Elyn stayed mostly silent, but she didn’t seem frightened.
Nate took a step back. Through the open doorway, he saw that furniture had been arranged in the living room, and, off in the distance, the kitchen as well. Everything looked cozy. Safe.
The social worker went inside. Rhage went inside. Mary said something and indicated the way in.
Elyn nodded and started for the threshold.
As Nate watched her go, he knew he wasn’t going to see her again. After he finished painting the inside of the garage? He’d be moved on to a different project by his supervisor, and any possible connection between them would disappear.
He wasn’t going to have a chance to say goodbye. At least not in the way he wanted.
Not in the way where he got her phone number. Or she got his.
With a ringing pain in his chest, he thought it was weird to mourn the loss of someone he didn’t even know—
Elyn hesitated and then looked over her shoulder at him. “Will you not come in?”
“Oh, you’re in good hands now.”
“Please. I’m scared.”
Staring into her wide silver eyes, Nate felt a flush go through his entire body. After which he took a deep breath and puffed up his chest.