Home is not a Place

33• Part of the Team

His voice trails off and I clasp my hands in front of my face. My God, the man is clueless. "Making sure she knew what?"

"That..." His eyes are clouded with confusion. "That I like her back."

"Oh, shit." I pump my fist in the air. "I knew that if you had kissed her in the hotel, it meant you had the hots for her."

"No, she kissed me in the hotel." He explains with a shake of his head.

"Right." I roll my eyes. "And you pulled away immediately without kissing her back."

Ethan tilts his head, "Well..."

"Exactly." I say to him. "You, my friend, have liked Vanessa for a long time. It has just taken you awhile to realize it."

"I don't know about that." He says as he finally calms down and takes a seat on the couch. I plop down next to him and wrap an arm around his shoulder. "What I do know is that I can say anything to her and she listens. I know that she is a beautiful person inside and out. She wants to be independent and strong, but what she doesn't know is that she already is. She's... She's unlike anyone else in this world."

For some reason I am holding my breath. "Bro, don't make me cry. That's so sweet."

"Shut up." He shoves me a little, and I fall onto my side on a few pillows that rest on the couch. Too lazy to get up, I stay down and smile goofily at him.

Silence greets us and remains in the air for a long moment. Until a question pries at me. "What now?"

Ethan says nothing for a few seconds as he sits back and closes his eyes. "I have no idea. I told her that I'd get her a job because she got fired when she wasn't at work today. Do you think I could convince Jerome to make her a part of the team?"

"Wow." I say after he drops that big bomb on me. "I think you could get Jerome to agree, but I'm not sure about her being on the payroll. You'd have to take it to someone higher up."

"Like my dad." He groans and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Great."

"He might help." I say, but my voice is nowhere near hopeful.

"He might." Ethan says with the shake of his head. "The problem is that I will owe him one."

I would reply, but I don't know what to say. It sucks that he's going to owe us dad one because his dad doesn't give a shit about him—he'd make him do anything. Anything. Legal or illegal. Just as long as it benefits himself.

Dads are just great.

"Are you going to talk to him?" I query, knowing he doesn't have to. "If you are going to try to do that, you better talk to them tonight. We're going on that mission with Lia tomorrow in England."

"Yeah." Ethan rises. "I'm going to talk to Jerome first. Then, my dad. I'll see you later tonight."

Ethan walks out, and I am left in the living room. Drake is in his bedroom, and Amelia is in the shower. Really, I could go with him and actually do something productive with my time, but I decide against it. Instead, I put on some of my regular music--a mix of different languages--and grab my favorite cookbook. I'll make something interesting tonight for dinner.

I slide onto a bar stool at the kitchen counter, but after a while of me flipping through the pages, a song comes on that I listened to as a child. It instantly reminds me of my mother. She used to sing it to me when I was scared.

My throat becomes dry as I try to swallow.

The last time she sang it to me was when we had just arrived in the U.S.. I had realized how horrible of a person my mom's "husband" was, and I didn't want my mom to get hurt. She explained that she was fine and that she had to do what she had to do to survive. I disagreed with that fully, but before we got into an argument, she started singing this song and soothed my heart.