Love in the Dark

Chapter 17

She was sad that I was leaving, but I could tell that she had grown tired of me. Or, at least, of someone constantly being in the house. I wasn't upset. I understood that friends—even close friends—needed their own space and that I was invading hers. She made sure I knew that it wasn't about me, it was just about her liking being alone. I appreciate her telling me that so I didn't overthink.

Then, I gathered my stuff—which was absolutely nothing—and waited by the front door for Nick.

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The car was absolutely silent. It wasn't a tense or awkward silence, just silence.

Honestly, it was kind of nice. I liked sitting silently in the company of another. It made me feel not alone, but still gave me room for my thoughts. Nick's presence calmed me and kept my bad thoughts under control for some reason.

Suddenly, Nick broke the silence. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" I asked, unsure what he was referring to.

"Well, everything. Do you really not have any more questions?" Nick asked, glancing over at me. I raised my eyebrow.

"Do you want me to have more questions?" Now we were just asking questions back and forth, neither of us answering the other.

"Well, I don't know. I guess it would make sense for you to have more, but if you don't, that's okay too." Nick sounded very unsure.

It was kind of funny to watch him squirm for once. There was something about the way that he was so confused and worried about how I would react that I found it a little adorable.

What the hell? No, not adorable. I found it...I found it...well, I didn't have a word for it. Which was fine; not everything needed a label.

"I do have a few questions for you, but I can ask them later," I told him. He glances over at me, so fast that I almost miss it. I wonder if he's been doing that the whole time, just to make sure that I'm still here. I can't say I understand his weird obsession with me, but I can say that, for some reason, I actually like being fussed over.

We arrive at the Pack House—nope, still weird calling it that—around the afternoon. Just in time for lunch.

Just as I suspected, when we stepped inside the door, all of the eyes turned to us. And there were a lot of eyes. It was half of the house down here in the kitchen, walking through the buffet line of food. This was the second time I had seen so many of the residents of the house in one place, and it was still strange for me. There were just so many of them.

"They're staring at us," I whispered to Nick from the side of my mouth.

He grinned down at me. "We have superhuman hearing, by the way."

"Oh." I had not known that. It explained why smiles had wound their way onto everyone's faces. Now, my face heated. Of course, they had a superhuman hearing. It was just my luck.

"Are you hungry?" Nick asked me. My stomach growled. "I'll take that as a yes."

I smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I'm starving."

He grabbed my wrist, sending electric shocks through my where our skin was touching, and dragged me toward the end of the line. It took us five minutes to even get our plates, and even longer to get out food, but it was so worth it.

The food was amazing. Whoever had cooked this was truly an angel sent from heaven, gifted with the holy recipes. I loved them.

I know I was moaning from how good it tasted, but I couldn't help myself. It was just amazing. Nick kept sending me a weird heated look, but I kept ignoring it all throughout lunch. When I was finished, I licked the crumbs off my plate and stood. Going into the kitchen, I skirted around the people lounging about, talking, and began washing my plate in the sink.

Nick appeared at my shoulder. "We have people for that. You don't have to wash your own plate."

"I would prefer to. It makes me feel like I'm doing something to help around here. I swear I feel like the laziest and worst Tennant ever. I don't pay rent, I don't have to clean or cook. Please, I'm begging you, put me to work." I say all this while still washing my dish. When it's sparking clean, I take the towel from the hood above the sink and dry it off. Placing it back in the cabinet, I turn to Nick. "I'm begging you."

"While I do like begging," He said lowly, "I'm afraid there's nothing for you to do."

"Nothing? There's gotta be something!" I groaned. "Please?"

He rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine. You can help with making dinner."

"Yes!" Never in my life had I been so excited to do manual labor. Something about living here just made me want to help, made me want to pitch in and become a part of the team. A part of the community that they had built here.

The small voice in the back of my head told me that I didn't deserve to be here. That I didn't deserve Nick's generosity, or the room they had given me, or this excellent food. It told me that I shouldn't get attached, because sooner or later, they would have to kick me out. I couldn't live here forever, it told me.

I ignored it. Now wasn't the time to be depressed. Now was the time to enjoy life. Because now, I had something resembling a home, and people who were my friends and who cared about me. And, strangely enough, I had Nick.

Life was finally looking up.