Chapter 109: Under One Roof

Chapter Ten

Charlie

The moment passes.

Of course it does.

Nothing dramatic happens.

Nobody confesses life-changing feelings.

Nobody gets struck by lightning.

Nobody announces they’ve secretly been in love for years.

Instead, Jordan slaps me on the shoulder and starts dragging me toward the living room while talking at a hundred miles an hour.

Business as usual.

Which is probably for the best.

Because my heart is doing enough weird things already.

“—and then he tried to tell me it wasn’t his fault.”

I blink.

“What?”

Jordan stops.

“You weren’t listening.”

“Nope.”

“I knew it.”

“Try again.”

He groans dramatically. “I was telling you about work.”

“Ah.”

“You don’t care.”

“Not even a little.”

“You’re the worst friend ever.”

I grin. “And yet you keep me around.”

Jordan sighs. “Unfortunately.”

We make our way into the living room.

Nothing has changed since the last time I was here.

Same couch.

Same television.

Same bookshelf.

Same coffee table covered in random things Jordan leaves lying around.

Comforting.

Familiar.

Normal.

The only thing that feels different is me.

And that’s annoying.

Because I don’t like feeling off-balance.

I especially don’t like feeling off-balance because of someone else.

Jordan drops onto the couch.

I take the opposite end.

For a while, he talks about work.

Then I talk about work.

Then he complains about work.

Then I complain about work.

Then we both agree that work is terrible.

A productive conversation.

At some point, Cade walks through carrying a basket of laundry.

My eyes track him automatically.

Traitorous eyes.

He disappears down the hallway.

I force myself to look away.

Jordan notices absolutely nothing.

Naturally.

Dinner is done an hour later.

The smell starts drifting through the house long before Cade calls us into the kitchen.

I walk in behind Jordan and nearly groan.

The table is covered.

Roast chicken.

Mashed potatoes.

Vegetables.

Fresh rolls.

The man cooks like he’s expecting royalty.

“Jesus.”

Cade looks up from setting down a bowl.

“Language.”

I grin. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Nope.”

A smile threatens at the corner of his mouth.

Then he catches himself and looks away.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Jordan is already loading his plate.

Like a starving man.

Which, to be fair, he always eats like.

“Did you make enough food?” I ask.

Cade rolls his eyes.

“Eat.”

I sit.

Happily.

For a little while, conversation stays light.

Jordan tells a story about work.

I tell a story about accidentally labeling a sample twice.

Jordan laughs so hard he nearly chokes.

Cade looks horrified.

“You what?”

“It was fine.”

“It wasn’t fine.”

“It worked out.”

Cade gives me a look.

The same look Mom gives me.

The same look Patrick gives me.

Apparently, all responsible people share one collective expression.

I point at him.

“That face.”

“What face?”

“That one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jordan snorts.

“He means the disappointed parent face.”

Cade glares at both of us.

I grin.

Jordan grins.

For one brief moment, Cade actually laughs.

The sound catches me off guard.

Not because it’s rare.

Because it’s been a while since I’ve heard it this close.

The laugh fades quickly.

But not before I notice.

Not before my chest warms.

Annoying.

After dinner, Jordan insists we play a game.

Cade refuses.

Jordan insists harder.

Eventually, Cade caves.

Because apparently that’s how their relationship works.

The three of us end up sitting around the coffee table playing cards.

Jordan cheats.

I accuse him of cheating.

Jordan denies cheating.

Cade accuses him of cheating.

Jordan acts offended.

The cycle repeats.

At one point, I catch Cade smiling.

Not at Jordan.

At me.

The realization hits unexpectedly.

For a second, I forget what we’re doing.

Forget the game.

Forget the conversation.

Forget everything.

Because there’s something different about the way he’s looking at me tonight.

Not nervous.

Not avoiding.

Not running.

Careful.

Like he’s trying to decide something.

The thought lingers long after the game ends.

By ten o’clock, Jordan is yawning.

By ten-thirty, he’s half asleep.

By eleven, he’s completely useless.

“I hate being an adult.”

I laugh. “You are an adult.”

“Exactly.”

He points at me. “You’re an adult too.”

“Unfortunately.”

Jordan groans.

Then drags himself toward his room. “I’m going to bed.”

I watch him go.

Then glance toward Cade.

He’s gathering empty glasses from the coffee table.

For a moment, I consider helping.

Then decide against it.

Then decide on it.

Then decide against it again.

My brain is exhausting.

Finally, I stand. “I’ll help.”

Cade pauses.

The glass in his hand stills briefly.

Then he nods. “Thanks.”

The word feels oddly significant.

Maybe because it’s just the two of us.

Maybe because Jordan is gone.

Maybe because my brain has lost all perspective.

Probably that last one.

The kitchen is quiet.

A strange thing.

I’m used to kitchens being loud.

Especially after spending the holidays at my parents’ house.

The silence feels different here.

Smaller.

More intimate.

Dangerous.

I carry dishes to the sink while Cade loads the dishwasher.

For a while, neither of us speaks.

The sound of running water fills the room.

The clink of plates.

The occasional scrape of silverware.

Normal things.

Yet my pulse keeps speeding up.

Which is ridiculous.

We’re washing dishes.

Not defusing a bomb.

Eventually, I clear my throat.

“How’s work?”

Brilliant.

Truly inspired conversation.

Cade glances at me.

A faint smile appears. “Fine.”

“Good.”

“How’s yours?”

“Fine.”

The smile grows.

I realize what I just did.

Wonderful.

Now we both sound like idiots.

A laugh escapes him.

Soft.

Warm.

Real.

And suddenly the tension eases.

Just a little.

“Jordan said you’ve been working a lot.”

I shrug. “We’ve got a new project.”

“What kind?”

The question surprises me.

Most people ask to be polite.

Cade actually sounds interested.

So I tell him.

Not everything.

Nobody wants a lecture on protein engineering.

But enough.

Enough that he asks questions.

Enough that he listens.

Really listens.

The way he always does.

I don't realize how close we're standing until we both reach for the same plate.

Our fingers brush.

Just barely.

The world stops.

Not literally.

The dishwasher keeps running.

The refrigerator keeps humming.

Outside, the wind still rattles the windows.

Yet everything narrows.

My breath catches.

That familiar tingle shoots through me.

The same one from a month ago.

The same one I've been trying not to think about.

My eyes snap to Cade's.

His do the same.

For a second, neither of us moves.

Neither of us breathes.

The plate slips from my fingers and lands on the counter with a soft clatter neither of us seems to hear.

All I can see is him.

The cinnamon and vanilla of his scent wrap around me, warm and sweet and entirely too tempting.

Cade's gaze drops to my mouth.

My pulse pounds.

The air feels thick.

Charged.

Like we're standing in the middle of a thunderstorm waiting for lightning to strike.

And then it does.

I don't know who moves first.

Maybe it's me.

Maybe it's him.

Maybe it's both of us.

One second, we're staring at each other.

And the next, our lips meet.

The kiss is soft.

Tentative.

Like neither of us can quite believe it's happening.

A quiet inhale leaves Cade.

My hand comes up instinctively, settling against his waist.

For one perfect moment, he melts into it.

Into me.

The tension that's been hanging between us for weeks finally snaps.

Not apart.

Together.

Cade's fingers curl into the front of my shirt.

The kiss deepens slightly.

Still gentle.

Still cautious.

But real.

God.

So real.

The tingle races through me again, stronger this time, spreading from my chest to every corner of my body.

I feel it in the way my heart pounds.

In the way my lungs forget how to work.

In the way every instinct inside me screams that this is right.

Then Cade jerks backward.

The movement is so sudden that it takes me a second to process it.

One moment, he's kissing me.

In the next, he's halfway across the kitchen.

Breathing hard.

Eyes wide.

As though he's just woken from a dream.

Or a nightmare.

Reality seems to crash back into him all at once.

I watch him drag a hand through his hair.

Watch panic flicker across his face before he forces it away.

"Cade."

His name leaves my mouth before I can stop it.

He closes his eyes briefly.

Just briefly.

Then opens them again.

Whatever emotion had been there is gone.

Locked away.

Hidden.

"I'm tired."

The words sound almost apologetic.

I stare at him.

Because that's not an answer.

It's not even related to what just happened.

And yet I know.

Deep down, I know pushing right now won't get me anywhere.

Not tonight.

So instead, I nod. "Yeah."

Silence settles between us again.

Not comfortable this time.

Not entirely.

Something has shifted.

Something important.

I just don't know what.

Or maybe I do.

Maybe I'm finally starting to understand why Cade has been acting strange.

Why he keeps pulling away.

Why he looks at me like he wants to say something and then changes his mind.

The thought follows me all the way to the couch.

Because yes, I'm sleeping on the couch.

Jordan offered me his floor.

I declined.

Some things even friendship can't survive.

I could've slept in the guest room, but it's right next door to Cade's room, and even though I know tonight's sleep will already be fitful, it'll be nonexistent if I'm that close to him.

7

I settle beneath a blanket and stare up at the ceiling.

The house is quiet.

The kind of quiet that only exists after midnight.

From somewhere down the hallway, I hear a door close softly.

Cade.

Going to bed.

I should do the same.

Instead, I lie there thinking about a kiss.

A tingle.

A look.

And the fact that for one brief moment, Cade kissed me back like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Only to pull away as though he'd remembered all the reasons he shouldn't.

And as sleep slowly pulls me under, one thought keeps circling through my head.

Something is happening between us.

The question is whether Cade will ever tell me what it is.