Page 134 of Chasing Home

“No. If that were an option, I would have already offered it. Come to Toronto if you want to talk,” he snaps, sounding completely done with this conversation.

“Why?”

“Toronto, Aurora.”

Wanda rubs my arm, watching my every reaction. I offer her a weak, appreciative smile.

“No.”

He pauses. “No? What do you mean, no?”

“I’m not going to Toronto. Maybe if I knew that this was for both of us and not just for me, then I would. Can you honestly say that you want to get to know me as much as I want to get to know you?”

“Look, Rory, I can’t stay.”

“It’s Aurora to you,” I correct sharply. “And can’t or won’t? Because you’re avoiding my questions, and that’s answer enough. I want to know you, but I also imagined that you’d want to get to know me as well. Even slightly.”

“Don’t waste this chance because of ties you’ve made in Cherry Peak like Wanda and her mother have. Let me show you what life could look like outside of that place.”

I swallow the fury climbing up my throat. “I’ve seen what life is like outside of Cherry Peak, Riley, and it pales in comparison. Do you even want to get to know me, or do you just want to be able to know you took me out of the one place you seem to feel is unworthy of Roses?”

“If you make memories in that town, they’ll only hurt you in a few years. You’ll walk down the street and hate every storefront and set of porch steps. Trust me, Aurora, you’ll want to leave and not come back.”

Suddenly, it all makes sense. Hurt shackles me before contempt replaces it. A throttling anger that tints my vision.

“This is about my mom, isn’t it? Maybe you did hate Cherry Peak because it wasn’t good enough for you, but now you’re too scared to stay because it reminds you of her. The woman you lost because your desire to be adored by others became more important than her. And now? Now you think you owe it to her to spend some pitiful, allocated time with her daughter as if that will earn you forgiveness.”

I laugh humourlessly, the sound cold in the car. “You won’t get it. There’s a reason my mom never mentioned you once in the past three decades. You’re nothing more than a ghost of her past. I’m glad you turned out to be the man everyone else told me you were because now I can move on. Thank God I realized before stepping onto that plane.”

Wanda watches me with tears in her eyes, smiling proudly at me as she nods. I exhale a breath heavier than I’ve ever released, returning the smile.

“Goodbye, Lee. You’ll be leaving Cherry Peak alone.”

“Put Wanda on the phone,” he demands, but I pull the phone from my ear and end the call without bothering to tell him no.

Wanda collects both my hands in hers and holds them tight. I squeeze her fingers, letting this moment sink in. Not just my final words with Lee but the sisterly support and love that swirls between Wanda and me. It’s a feeling I’ve never experienced and one I didn’t think I’d ever get to. I could have used it a thousand times growing up, but I don’t want to live in the past anymore.

Right now, I have everything I could ever want.

Well, almost.

After leaving Wanda at the house she keeps in town, I head straight for Johnny’s place. My gut tells me he’s there, and I refuse to ignore that instinct again the way I did with Lee.

I struggle to find the proper road to take to his house, especially because I stayed with Wanda longer than I anticipated, and now it’s dark out. I can’t see for shit when I’m driving at night. I’m so concentrated on not hitting a deer or coyote that I nearly miss the road I remember riding down on Frost’s back.

Slamming on the brakes, I press a hand to my clammy forehead and turn onto the twinkle-lit road. It’s as pretty as I remember. Something out of a fairy tale.

I’m positive that was the reasoning behind why he strung them.

I bring my car to a jerking stop in the middle of the road when I see him standing in front of the house, watching me. My breath stalls in my throat as I take him in. The purity in his lazy grin and wonder in his eyes.

He’s got his hair hidden beneath a backward cap tonight and another one of those damn cropped shirts on with his usual jeans and boots. I’ve never seen him without his boots outside, and I don’t want to.

I’m out of my car in a blink, the door left open in my rush to get to him. He stands patiently and waits for me, his hands patting at his thighs.

“You’re back,” he whispers when I get close enough to hear him.

I fly into his chest, my face buried in his throat and arms around his neck. He tugs me the rest of the way against him, hips to hips, toes to toes.