Page 5 of The Way Home (Pathfinders Lake Romance #5)

Riley

S till in my towel, I paced around the bedroom, wondering if I should leave now while my bags were still packed.

I needed this trip, though, needed the time away.

The idea of leaving now made my stomach sink, because I would be going right back into the same situation I was trying to get out of.

But then, so did staying if Jeremy was going to be here. Why was he here?

I grabbed my phone from where I’d left it on the bed and called my mom.

It rang once and then went to voicemail. Did she end the call? After the beep, I spoke in a loud whisper, “Mom! Did you know Jeremy was going to be here? I was supposed to have some time to myself. How can I do that if he’s here? I… don’t know what I’m going to do. Can you just… call me back?”

Ending the call, I tossed the phone on the bed and flopped down beside it.

It had been a while since I’d been eye to eye with Jeremy.

I usually tried to avoid such close contact because it was too hard.

After all this time I was still incredibly attracted to him, and there were too many feelings under the surface.

Then he was there, right in front of me, and I was completely naked.

When I was in the shower, I figured I might as well try to relieve some stress and had just started stroking myself when he burst into the bathroom like he was going to jump me.

The panic and excitement of it all confused the hell out of me—and my dick.

Jeremy staring at my junk didn’t help either.

Was that a flash of desire I saw on his face or was that just my imagination?

My arm fell over my eyes. Fuck ! This was so screwed up.

A knock sounded on the door, and I wasn’t mentally or physically ready to deal with him. “Go away!”

“Riley, come on!” Jeremy shouted through the door.

“Fuck off, Jem!” Using the nickname I hadn’t said since our first summer together seemed to give him pause.

I heard a soft thump against the door before his footsteps moved away.

Good . Maybe. I didn’t know. I was tempted to run to the door and call him back, but I couldn’t, because the nickname affected me, too.

It was the name no one else called him. He told me once it was mine alone for him, and it made me feel special.

We had this unique bond, just the two of us.

I missed it, I wanted so badly for it to be true again.

It took all of my brain power to stand up, but I figured if nothing else, I needed to get some clothes on. Laying around in a towel wasn’t going to help, especially with such conflicted feelings about being back here and alone with Jeremy.

Dressed in a hoodie and gym shorts, I stayed in the room, checking emails and scrolling endlessly on social media.

Anything to occupy my thoughts and distract me from a presence I could feel through the walls.

Hours passed until my stomach started to grumble, and I had to admit to myself that my childish stand-off wasn’t proving anything to anyone.

Taking a deep breath, I braced myself to face the person I’d been avoiding for ten years.

When I opened the door, I was hit with a delicious aroma that made my empty stomach roar.

I’d been up early, and it had been a long travel day, so I hadn’t eaten anything since I landed at the airport.

Following the scent to the kitchen, I was surprised to find Jeremy standing at the stove.

He was shirtless—because of course he was—and wore an apron.

His golden back was on full display, and the bow of the apron strings at his waist only added to the sight.

“Do you always cook without clothes on?” I asked with an edge to my voice. The edge might have come from trying to hide how incredibly sexy I found him.

Jeremy turned around and put his hands on his hips.

“Only for you, darling.” He gave me a wink.

That fucker . He had no right looking as good as he did and looking at me like that.

His brown hair was trimmed short now, looking like a more mature and sexy upgrade from his hot, purposefully messy style once had as a teenager.

I shook my head. I couldn’t handle him teasing me the same way he used to, or the way I’d seen him with the plethora of people he’d brought home. “Don’t. Don’t do that, please.”

He shrugged and turned his attention back to the stove. “I got hot, and there’s no breeze right now.”

With the kitchen window and the front door open, it usually created a decent cross-breeze, but it was pretty warm in here, especially since it appeared the oven was on.

I forgot how much it heated up the place.

I wandered around the living room for something to do.

It shouldn’t be this hard, but I spent a lot of time trying not to be in exactly this kind of situation with him.

“I don’t know if you’re hungry, but I made enough beef stew to share. There’s no onions in it.”

I tripped and hit my shin on the coffee table, muttering a curse.

No onions ? I used to have a sensitivity to eating onions, more so if they were raw, but I tended to avoid them in general when I was younger.

Did he really make the food special because of me?

Jeremy was the type who typically put onions in and on everything.

“You okay?” He called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah, just knocked my shin.”

He took a bowl and a plate with bread on it and sat at the small round table that barely fit the four of us when we all lived here together.

I made my way back to the stove and stared at the delicious-looking stew.

It was thick and hearty and smelled incredible.

Beside it on the stove top was a sheet pan with a loaf of bread.

When did he have time to do all of this?

Oh, right, when I was in the bedroom sulking.

Scooping a bowl, I considered taking it back to the room and retreating but instead decided to man up and sit at the table with Jeremy. After all the effort he went through, I probably owed him some face time.

I forced myself to hold my head up and meet his gorgeous brown eyes. “Thanks. This looks… good. I didn’t know you cooked.” My cheeks warmed, and I quickly shoved a bite of food into my mouth, trying to suppress the moan that wanted to escape at the explosion of flavors.

“You’re welcome, and yeah, I love to cook. I like knowing what I’m putting in my body.”

At that, I choked and coughed, spewing stew all over the place.

Jeremy quietly handed me a napkin, and I didn’t miss the slight smirk he wore.

My cheeks flamed even hotter, and I immediately regretted sitting across from him.

God, I was such a mess, and yet, there he was, just as calm as he’d been when I’d almost died on orange soda the first time we met.

Of course, thinking about that moment brought back the memory of him pushing me against the door and feeling his tongue down my throat.

“Fuck! I… I can’t do this.” I stood up abruptly.

Jeremy’s smirk disappeared and a concerned look came across his face. “Wait, Ri, it’s fine. Just sit back down. Can’t we even just eat together?”

“No, I don’t think I can, clearly.” I held up my crumpled napkin as evidence. Too hungry to abandon the food, I took my bowl and walked toward the hall. Before leaving the room, I looked over my shoulder and said, “Thank you for the stew. It’s delicious.”

Like a complete coward, I hid in the bedroom and ate by myself.

Somehow between the dining table and the bed, the food lost its flavor.

Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t I simply exist in the same room with him without being flooded with memories?

How long would it take for me to forget him or the way he made me feel?

I pulled out the new Silver Woods novel from my backpack, needing an escape.

Silver Woods was one of my favorite gay fantasy authors, but I'd been putting off reading his newest work because the reviews said it was much darker than his typical stuff.

When I was packing, I threw the paperback and a few others in my bag, hoping for some time to read while alone in the woods.

Maybe alone in the woods wasn't the best time to go into a dark fantasy, but then again…

I wasn't exactly alone. Fuck! Why was he here?

Maybe, something twisty and captivating was what I needed to get my mind off him.

I pulled my hoodie off, propped myself against the headboard with a pillow, and opened the book wide, breaking the spine. Yes, I was a spine breaker—better to get it over with at the start and make it easier to hold and read. A well-loved book was a beautiful thing.

As I read the prologue, I heard dishes clanging in the kitchen, making me feel like a piece of shit, thinking of Jeremy going to all that trouble to make dinner for us.

He even made it special for me, and I left him to do the clean up all by himself.

I tried to ignore him and dwell in my shittiness; he wasn't the only one who could master a stew.

Though mine was more of the mental kind that left a bad taste in your mouth.

All I managed to accomplish was rereading the same page with no comprehension.

Normally, Silver's writing hooked me from the go, but my mind wasn't in a good space for it.

I let out a loud huff and put my book on the bedside table.

In my determination to de-stew and get out of my head, I marched back to the kitchen, forgetting my hoodie in my room. I didn't have to let my own funk get in the way of being a decent human even if it meant torturing myself with the sight of a still-shirtless Jeremy.

His back was to me as he hunched over the sink.

I'd only gotten a brief glimpse of him earlier, but now… damn ! I sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of his muscled back, wishing I could run my fingers over every contour. I normally didn’t go right to physical desire and wanting to touch someone.

I needed a connection first. The problem was Jeremy wasn’t just someone.

We’d had a connection, and I’d never forgotten it.

Jeremy looked over his shoulder, catching me mid-stare, but instead of the smirk I expected, he simply gave me the up-nod. “Hey.”

His too-cool reaction made me wish I hadn't run out of the room like a child. Man the fuck up, Riley. I coughed to clear my throat. “Uh, hey.”

He turned off the water to face me. “What's up, Ri?”

Without the apron covering his front, his toned abs and pecs were just right there, all out in the open, looking sexier than ever.

He'd always been fit, but I hadn't seen this much of his body in a long time, and he looked like he could be on the cover of a magazine.

It was then I realized I was also shirtless and didn't look anything like him.

I was wiry with no definition to my abs, or anywhere, really.

His skin was smooth and shiny, and mine was hairy.

I folded my arms over my chest, feeling rather exposed.

I popped my lips as I tried to keep myself in such close proximity to him. “I’m, well, sorry I left the way I did. I really do appreciate the meal.”

Jeremy eyed me carefully, as if he was trying to assess the situation. “Okaaay?”

“Gah, this is so fucked,” I mumbled to myself, as I scruffed a hand over my face, wishing I had more chill and could simply accept his presence. When my hand fell, I caught Jeremy watching me, still waiting for a better answer, except I didn't have one. I was a coward.

Nodding toward the sink, I said, “Let me finish the cleanup. It's the least I can do since you cooked. Uh, and I’m okay with onions now, sparingly. They don’t bother me as much anymore, but it was nice you… uh, yeah. Thanks.”

Jeremy’s features softened. His arched brow slowly came down, and a hint of a smile formed on his perfect lips, drawing me in and making my belly flutter.

I was captivated by his mouth and may have stared a little too long.

The trance was broken when he moved in a flash, and suddenly a sponge hit me in the chest with a wet thwack, making me jerk and unfold my arms to catch it.

I couldn't help the surprised laugh that popped out of me as I muttered, “Asshole.” There was no heat behind it, and for a moment—one brief moment—we were whisked to the carefree past when we laughed as much as we loved.

I wished more than anything that we could stay in that moment, but it was over too soon.

Maybe Dr. Horrible was right when he wanted to stop the world with a freeze ray, but that didn't end well, and this wouldn't either.

Jeremy's soft smile fell when he must have seen my expression change.

He gave an almost imperceptible nod, moving to let me take over at the sink.

As Jeremy passed by me, he grabbed my forearm and looked me right in the eye, tilting his head back to meet my gaze. He spoke in a soft and sincere tone, holding my attention. “You have a great body, Riley. You don't need to hide it.”

My arm practically burned under his touch, and his words made my throat close up. But then he was gone, leaving me to brace myself against the sink. His touch and his words impacted me more than I expected, even from such a quick interaction.

I wasn't going to survive this. Jeremy Rodriguez was my eternal death.

Forever killing me with a deep voice and soft touch, knowing he would never be mine, not in the way I needed him to be.

Through blurred vision, I absentmindedly scrubbed at the pot and pan he'd used as my mind decided to go through the reels of our past.

Jeremy had been practically bouncing on his feet when he saw my mom and me show up that night our parents “introduced us.” I had been almost completely numb as he quickly greeted my mom and told his dad he was going to show me around.

He'd dragged me to his room, which didn't have bunk beds at the time, closed the door behind him, and kissed me hard.

My body had grown so used to his, I couldn't help but react and lean into him, savoring every second of the kiss.

Even now, I could clearly remember the gleam in his eyes when he’d broken the kiss and the excitement in his voice when he’d said, “Can you believe our luck? When my dad was talking about his girlfriend and her son, I just knew it had to be you. Holy shit, Ri! Think of all the sleepovers we could be having… clothing optional sleepovers.”

The ridiculous bounce of his brows was branded into my mind. He'd made it sound so easy, but it wasn't.