Chapter 6

Emma's POV

I slammed the door behind me and locked it. My back hit the wood and I just stood there, gasping like I'd run a marathon.

Oh my god. Oh my god. He smelled it. He actually smelled it.

My face was on fire. The kind of burning that made my eyes water and my scalp prickle. I could still see the way his nose had twitched. The way his eyes had gone wide with recognition.

I'm never leaving this room. I'm going to die in here. They'll find my skeleton in fifty years still pressed against this door.

I slid down to the floor and buried my face in my hands. Took a few shaky breaths.

Okay. Okay. He's an athlete. They probably have gross locker room jokes about this stuff all the time. Maybe he'll just... forget about it. Pretend it never happened.

Yeah. Right.

I forced myself to stand up, pushed off the door and looked around the room. Cream walls. Hardwood floors. A queen bed with a navy comforter. Simple. Clean. Normal.

On the desk by the window sat a welcome card propped against a vase of sunflowers. I walked over and picked it up.

Welcome home, Emma in Victoria's neat handwriting.

My throat got tight. She'd actually tried. Put thought into making me feel wanted here.

Unlike her son who'd just publicly humiliated me in the doorway.

I dropped the card and grabbed the trash bag from under the desk. Stripped off my shirt and shorts and stuffed them inside. Tied the bag in a double knot like I could seal away the entire disaster of today.

The bathroom was attached to my room. I turned the shower as hot as it would go and stepped under the spray.

The water hit my skin and I finally let myself breathe. Let the heat scald away the airport smell and the locker room stink and every mortifying second of this day.

Just wash it down the drain. All of it. The crusty sock. His smirk. That stupid gorgeous face when he leaned in and sniffed me like I was some kind of science experiment gone wrong.

I scrubbed my hair twice. Used half the body wash. Stayed under the water until my fingers pruned and the bathroom filled with steam.

When I finally turned off the shower, I felt almost human again.

I changed into clean clothes—soft cotton shorts and an oversized PSU t-shirt Dad must have left for me—and headed downstairs.

Voices drifted from the kitchen. I stopped on the landing, half-hidden behind the wall.

Dad stood at the stove wearing an apron that said "Grill Sergeant." He was flipping something in a pan while Victoria sat at the kitchen island with her laptop open, typing rapidly.

"Honey, the heat's too high," she said without looking up.

"I got it, I got it." Dad adjusted the burner.

It was such a normal scene. Domestic. The kind of thing I'd seen in movies but never really experienced. Mom and I had always eaten takeout or microwaved dinners while she worked her second shift.

Caleb sat on the couch in the living room, scrolling through his phone. His hair was still damp. He'd changed into grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt that showed off his arms.

I forced myself to look away and walked down the rest of the stairs.

"Emma!" Dad spotted me immediately. "Perfect timing. Dinner's almost ready."

Victoria closed her laptop and smiled. "How was the shower? Feel better?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Come sit." She patted the stool next to her.

I slid onto the seat. Caleb glanced up from his phone, met my eyes for half a second, then looked away.

Great. Back to pretending I don't exist.

Dad brought over plates of grilled salmon with lemon butter sauce, roasted vegetables, and rice. It actually looked good. Really good.

We all sat down at the dining table. I took the seat across from Victoria. Caleb sat diagonal from me. As far away as possible while still being at the same table.

Dad raised his wine glass. Caleb and I had juice.

"To Emma officially joining our family!"

I lifted my glass and tried to smile. Victoria clinked hers against mine, her eyes warm.

"Eat up, sweetie. You look thinner than last year." She passed me the vegetables. "Oh, and tomorrow we should go shopping for the family barbecue. You'll come with me, right?"

I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth. "Family barbecue?"

Dad jumped in, his voice eager. "Yeah! Every year on the last weekend of August, we have a little gathering. Just us. We grill, swim in the pool, hang out in the backyard. Now that you're here, we'll all be together."

My stomach twisted. A whole day. Trapped in the backyard with Caleb.

Victoria turned to him. "Baby, do you have practice that day? Coach said the last week before school starts would be lighter, right?"

Caleb put down his fork. His voice was flat. "I might have plans."

Victoria's eyebrows drew together. "What plans? The barbecue's Saturday afternoon. You only have morning practice."

Silence.

Caleb's eyes flicked to me. Just for a second. But I caught it.

I saw exactly what was there. The same look he'd given me four years ago when I'd handed him that repaired hockey stick. Cold. Distant. Like I was something he had to tolerate but would rather avoid.

He doesn't want to be around me. Of course he doesn't. Why would anything change?

"I'll see," he said finally.

Dad jumped in fast. "That's fine, that's fine. No pressure. We'll figure it out."

I focused on cutting my salmon into tiny pieces. Pushed the food around my plate.

My mouth opened before I could stop it. "Do you go to campus every day? Even though school hasn't started?"

Caleb looked at me. Really looked at me. His ice-blue eyes were unreadable.

"Training camp. Hockey team comes back a month early."

Victoria added, "Caleb's a junior this year. It's crucial for the NHL draft. The coaches are very strict."

I nodded. Tried to look interested and not like my brain was doing backflips.

He's gone during the day. He's gone during the day. I won't have to see him. I can avoid him completely except for dinner and—

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Looked down at my plate and sawed through a piece of salmon.

This might actually be okay.

After dinner, I helped Dad load the dishwasher while Victoria answered work emails and Caleb disappeared upstairs.

"Thanks for helping, sweetheart," Dad said. He looked tired but happy. "I'm really glad you're here."

"Me too, Dad."

The lie came easy.

I went back to my room and FaceTimed Mom.

She answered on the second ring, her face filling the screen. "Baby! How's Colorado? Are you settling in okay?"

"Yeah, it's good. The house is nice. Victoria's really sweet."

"And David? He's treating you well?"

"He made dinner. It was actually really good."

Mom smiled. "That's wonderful. And Caleb? Are you two getting along?"

My brain flashed to the airport. The locker room. The doorway. His face when he'd smelled me.

"We're fine. He's busy with hockey stuff."

"Good. Remember, you're family now. Make an effort to bond with him, okay?"

"Okay, Mom."

We talked for another ten minutes before she had to go. I hung up and flopped back on my bed.

Family. Right. Because that's exactly what Caleb and I are.

I got ready for bed. Brushed my teeth. Washed my face. Climbed under the covers.

The exhaustion hit me all at once. My body sank into the mattress. My eyes got heavy.

At least today's over. At least nothing else can go wrong.

I was just starting to drift off when I heard it.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I blinked. Stared at the ceiling.

I'm imagining things. I'm already asleep.

Knock. Knock.

"Emma?"

My eyes flew open. I sat up so fast my head spun.

That was Caleb's voice. Outside my door. At—I grabbed my phone—eleven thirty at night.

What the hell?

I climbed out of bed and walked to the door. Stood there with my hand on the knob.

"What?"

Silence. Then: "About today. The airport thing. I should've met you. Sorry."

I stared at the door. My brain completely flatlined.

He's apologizing. Caleb Claffey is apologizing.

What the actual hell is happening right now?