Weightless (19 page)

“You okay?” he asked when I didn’t move.

I bit my lip and let the heavy wooden door of the sauna close behind me, leaving us alone and blocked off from the world. In an instant, Saturday night came flooding back to me, along with the embarrassment and anger I’d felt.

“No. No, Rhodes, I am not okay.” I tried to say the words with confidence but my voice shook with every syllable. I had no idea what I was about to say but I didn’t give myself the chance to think about it. “I am completely and frustratingly confused. You say you’re just my trainer but then you look at me like… like that.” I thrusted my hand out toward him. “Like you have to sit on your hands to keep from touching me.” I blanched at my own words and Rhodes’ mouth hardened into a thin line, but I kept going. “I never expected us to be anything, okay? I’m not trying to force you to be my friend but you make me feel like I am, when in reality, it’s
you
who blurred the line. You invited me over —
twice
. You go from talking to me and giving me advice one minute to making me feel like I annoy you the next.” I threw my hands up, exasperated. “You want to be friends? Great. I’d like that. You want to just be professional? That’s fine, too. But make up your mind and stop whipping me around like a damn rag doll.”

I ripped the door open again and thought about running to the Rover, but decided to walk instead. I knew he wouldn’t chase after me, and I held my head high with the dignity I was still managing to hold on to. I did fumble with my keys, though — adrenaline rushing through my veins like never before. The shaking didn’t stop until fifteen minutes later when I made it inside my house and closed the front door behind me. Christina was just on her way out, her bags draped over her shoulder, but she paused when she saw me.

“Everything okay, Miss Natalie?”

Closing my eyes, I sighed and nodded. “I’m fine. You heading out?” I forced a smile, but she eyed me questioningly.

“I am. Junior has a baseball tournament in Charlotte. I’ll be back on Saturday, though. Will you be okay until then?”

“I’ll be fine, Christina,” I reassured her. “If all else fails, there’s always take out.”

She laughed at that and her shoulders released the tension they’d been holding since I walked through the door. “Okay. You have my cell if you need me. And no need for take out,” she said as she opened the door. “There are dinners in the fridge with heating instructions.” With that, she winked and excused herself.

I took an ice bath instead of a shower, trying to calm both my anger and the raging soreness awakening in my muscles. Working for four hours felt like a solid plan when I was at the gym, but I regretted it now.

When I finished, I dressed in a large t-shirt and boy shorts and fell onto the couch downstairs. Even the thought of reaching for the remote made my body whine in protest, so I audibly sighed when the doorbell rang. With no help to answer the door like usual, I heaved myself up in one motion to get the pain out all at once and waddled into the foyer. Peeking through the peep hole, my stomach fell.

It was Rhodes.

I cracked the door open slowly, trying to hide behind it. My hair was still sopping wet and soaking my t-shirt and my shorts were much shorter than the pants I usually wore to the gym. But when Rhodes saw me, his eyes didn’t fall to acknowledge them. They stayed on mine as I noted his still-wet hair and the grocery bags in his hands.

He shrugged. “Hungry?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

I shifted. “Am I Natalie or Bug right now?”

Rhodes grinned and the sight of it nearly knocked the air from my chest. “Bug. That is, if I still have the privilege to call you that.” He frowned again, waiting for me to respond.

Slowly, I opened the door further. “Come in.”

Rhodes’ shoulders were still tight as he moved inside. I closed the door behind us but he remained in the foyer. His eyes moved all around the house, taking in the living room and the large vaulted ceiling above it before settling on what little of the kitchen he could see from where we stood. He swallowed.

“Your house is… wow.”

I shrugged, grabbing the grocery bags from his hands. “It’s not my house. It’s Dale’s. And you’re not cooking tonight.”

Rhodes followed me to the kitchen. “I’m starving, though.”

“Me too. But you always cook and tonight I want you to talk.” I put his groceries in the fridge and cabinets before pulling out one of the meals Christina had prepared. It was baked lemon chicken with zucchini and squash. Pre-heating the oven, I followed her instructions written on the sticky note on top of the container and then turned back to Rhodes. “What does you being here mean?”

Rhodes paused, leaning his elbows on the edge of our kitchen island. “I don’t know.”

I shook my head. “Nope, not doing that. That’s what got us here in the first place. So are we friends or what?”

“Or what.” He chuckled, but I pursed my lips and he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Natalie. What if I told you I’m still figuring it out?”

I opened my mouth to argue, but then snapped it shut. I was still figuring out a lot of things, too — so could I really be upset with him for feeling the same way?

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he asked, one brow shooting up. “That’s it?”

I nodded. “That was honest. That’s all I can ask for.”

And it was. At the very least, I hoped he’d be honest with me more often, even if it meant hearing something I didn’t want to. For now, I didn’t want to think about it too much — he was here, which meant he did care about me, and that was enough. I needed him in my corner. After all, I’d already lost Mason and I’d be losing Willow soon. I was just thankful I hadn’t completely lost Rhodes, too.

We sat in the kitchen while I made dinner, talking about a little of everything. He asked me more about Willow and her program and I asked him more about his skills in the kitchen. I was careful not to dive into the family territory, not wanting a replay of Saturday night. Rhodes seemed to relax the more we talked and after dinner, I poured us each a glass of wine before moving us to the living room.

“You know you shouldn’t be drinking if you want to stay on your meal plan,” Rhodes scolded.

I scoffed and reached for the remote to turn on the stereo. Soft music poured from the speakers and Rhodes looked all around us, awe lighting his face. “You know I’ve had a pretty shitty week and don’t exactly care about my meal plan right now, right?”

“Can’t argue that, I guess.” He cheersed his glass to mine and we both took a sip, but his eyes were appraising me. “You’re cursing more now than when I first met you.”

“I guess I have more to curse about.”

Rhodes laughed, swirling the wine in his glass. “If that’s the way it’s measured then I should be a sailor by now.”

“You practically are.”

“Maybe I’m the bad influence, then,” he mused. His eyes were playful, his smile easy. Most of the time, Rhodes was shielded under a hard exterior, but in that moment, he was open. I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to find out more about him.

“So,” I said, pulling a small couch pillow over my lap. I was more than a little self-conscious about the shorts I was still wearing. “Have you ever thought about going to culinary school?”

“Of course I have.”

“And?”

“And I don’t have the money for it,” he clipped, but he wasn’t upset. He was just being honest.

“You can take out a loan.”

“It’s not that easy, Bug. There are things that still tie me to Poxton Beach… some things that need to be resolved.”

I took another sip of my wine, the bitter sweetness tingling on my tongue. “Your sister?”

Rhodes swallowed hard and took a long pull from his own glass. I immediately regretted bringing her up again and cursed under my breath.

“I’m sorry. It’s not my business.”

“It’s fine,” he breathed, but I noted the way he gripped the glass tighter. “I don’t want to
not
talk about her. She deserves to be talked about.” He paused, eyes on his hands. “And yes, she’s the biggest reason why I can’t leave yet.”

I chewed my lip. “Do you think she’d want you to stay?”

“Fuck no.” He said the words with absolute certainty. “She’d probably kick my ass if she knew I was still here, especially if she knew what I’ve done since she disappeared.” His eyes caught mine for a moment and he looked back down at his lap. He was thinking about the drugs, the women, and embarrassment shaded his cheeks. “She’d tell me to get the hell out of here and go live my life. But I can’t do that yet.” He shook his head, lifting his eyes to mine again. “She wasn’t just my sister, she was my twin — we’re tied together in ways that other siblings just aren’t. And something inside me tells me if I look long enough, if I try hard enough, I can figure out what happened to her. And I owe that to her.” He paused. “I can’t leave without answers, Natalie.”

“And if they never come?”

His shoulders lifted slightly and he drained the rest of his glass even though I still had over half of mine left. “Then maybe I never leave.” Setting his glass on the coffee table, he stood and looked around the room, effectively ending the conversation. But I let him, because I knew with Rhodes I was lucky to get everything I had already.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so rude,” I said, quickly standing to join him. “My mother would murder me if she knew I hadn’t given you the tour yet.”

“That’s a little extreme,” Rhodes said, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

“Well, she’s an extreme woman,” I said. “Come on.”

We toured the bottom floor first, everything from Dale’s office to the four car garage. I led him upstairs next and watched him closely as we went from room to room. His eyes were wide, but he didn’t say much. He just took in everything I told him about each room and sipped slowly on the second glass of wine I’d poured him before bringing him up. When we reached my room, he walked the walls slowly, his eyes scanning the photographs lining every inch of the soft, mint-colored paint. My room was small for the house, but gigantic in comparison to his. Mom hated that I covered the walls with photos but she knew there was no way to stop me. Photography was the one thing in the world I was unapologetically passionate about.

“So this is why you always have that damn camera with you.”

Every wall was filled with memories. Some of my family, some of my friends, and some of just Poxton Beach scenery. One of my walls was dedicated completely to places I’d traveled with Dale and Mom. My favorites were of Mykonos, an island in Greece we traveled to last summer. Rhodes traced his finger over the bright blue water in a shot I’d taken on the beach, the beautiful Grecian architecture lining the horizon in the background.

“Stunning, isn’t it? It’s even better in person.”

“It’s beautiful,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t even imagine seeing a place like this.”

“Maybe you will one day.”

A short, soft laugh escaped his lips. When his fingers lightly brushed the newest addition to the wall — one of the photos from the night of the fair — he paused, and I wondered if maybe he realized it was so much better seeing it in real life the same way I did. We were both quiet for a long moment.

“What are you afraid of, Rhodes?” I asked softly, moving a little closer to him. He kept his back turned, his fingers still lightly on the photo, and for a moment I thought he might not answer.

“Starving.” He just barely whispered the word, but it was loud enough to knock every other thought from my mind. “I know what it feels like to be hungry. In many aspects.” He turned to me then, his eyes slightly glossed over, like he wasn’t quite there anymore. “Nothing scares me more than the possibility that I may never cure that hunger.”

I swallowed, but didn’t comment. His eyes fell over the rest of the photos on the wall and then he turned, scanning the others. “There are no photos of you. There’s your family, your friends.” He turned back to me. “But none of you.”

I laughed lightly. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly worth taking a photograph of.”

Rhodes’ brows pulled inward and he went to speak, but then he glanced around again. “Wait. Where is your bathroom?”

“Um, through that door,” I replied, pointing.

He moved past me and through the bathroom door, flicking on the light. He peered around for a moment and then turned back to me. “You don’t have a single mirror in your room. Not even in here.”

I shrugged. “Mirrors aren’t exactly my thing either, Rhodes.”

“Why?”

I let out a sharp laugh this time, gesturing to my body hidden behind the baggy t-shirt. “Seriously?”

His face hardened and he dropped his glass on my bedside table before taking mine from me, too. Grabbing my hand in his, he pulled me down the hall.

“What are you doing?”

Rhodes didn’t answer. He opened door after door until he found our master guest room. It was my mom’s favorite, the one she always reserved for the most important guests we housed. When Rhodes pulled me in front of the grand full-length mirror set up beside the bed, I cringed.

“Stop, Rhodes,” I said, pushing against his chest to try to move him toward the door again.