Sparks Reignited

28 | A Parent's Love

"Not even mafia tattoos?"

"We don't have that either. Do you want to see for yourself?"

Before I can protest, he's already lifting a shirt, giving me a glimpse of his glorious abs, and it takes everything in me to push his hand downwards to cover that delicious sight. "Stop making fun of me!"

He chuckles while I turn away, intent on looking out of the window. I lean back into my seat and listen to the soft music playing in the background. A yawn escapes me, one which I can't suppress.

I feel Kyle's curious gaze on me. "Tired?"

"A little," I say, rubbing my sleepy eyes. "I couldn't sleep last night."

Concern flickers across his features. "Why? What's wrong?"

I need to tell him about my father, but not like this. "I'll tell you at your house later. Can't have you ramming us into a pole if you can't keep your eyes off me."

He's curious and has more questions, but he holds his tongue. "I'll have to agree with you on that." His amused voice is husky and thick, sending my toes curling. "With you sitting beside me, it is hard to focus on the road."

I swat his arm playfully, unable to believe how my words have backfired on me, and now I'm the one getting all flustered here. "Shut up," I laugh just as a car horns behind us. "Now go—we are holding up traffic behind us."

A smile tugs at his lips. Thankfully, we arrive at his house without getting into an accident.

It's an eclectic blue, two-storey brick house with white frames and panels. After he parks the car in the garage, he shows me around the house. A stepping-stone pathway cuts through the grass and guides us towards the entrance. Small, cute shrubs outline the humble home. As we climb up the steps, I marvel at the hanging garden baskets of colorful flowers that hang from the porch ceiling. They're arranged beautifully; a mix of white pentas and dainty purple scaevolas.

I guess it's true when people say flowers can transform a place and brighten a person's mood. It definitely does to mine.

I point at them. "Did your mother make those?"

Kyle nods. "She changes them every week when she has some free time. Besides, she has too many flowers in the shop."

"They're beautiful." The flowers give his home a touch of class, and I can imagine Kyle's mother as a sophisticated woman. I wonder if she might hold some resentment towards me for ditching her son a year ago. Because I'm the reason he switched schools.

I run my hands down my plain blue top and jeans, wishing that I had dressed better. "Not gonna lie, but I'm nervous about meeting her."

He wraps his warm hand around mine and gives me a light squeeze. "You worry too much. I promise she won't bite, but she can be a little...overwhelming."

Nerves continue to somersault in my stomach. I let him lead me into the house. As we pull off our shoes, I hear approaching footsteps. A woman wearing a white dress and polka-dots apron peeks her head into the hallway from the kitchen. Locks of raven hair frames her dainty face. She's tall and beautiful, like a model with long limbs, and her large, emerald eyes were like his.

If I hadn't known she was his mother, I might have mistaken her for his older sister. That's how young she looks, despite her age. It's unbelievable and I wonder what kind of beauty products she is using.

"Riley!" She welcomes me by wrapping me in her embrace. "It's been a long time! How have you been? I heard about the accident and your...amnesia. Are you well?"