Chapter Eight

 

Mac laid the buffalo plaid pajamas on the neatly made bed. He looked around the bedroom that once belonged to Hunter. Old posters of luxury cars and sports players still hung on the walls. A navy blue area rug matched the striped bedding.

He sat on the bed and ran a hand through his hair. If he ever wrote a book, he’d have the perfect plot, only it was so unbelievable no one would believe it.

Who agreed to date one of the world’s most famous actresses and then got stranded in a snowstorm on his way home—at a house that just happened to belong to the parents of the girl he’d been half in love with since he could remember and with said girl also stranded at her parents’ home?

Too bad he couldn’t hide out in the bedroom all evening. Phoebe had convinced her parents to watch a Christmas movie, and they had invited him to join them. He couldn’t very well say no after the hospitality they’d shown him. Besides, what else would he do? His phone had a limited battery life, and he didn’t have a charger with him, or any other distraction to keep him occupied. When he’d set out that afternoon, he’d had every intention of returning home.

He called his mom and gave her an update, so she wouldn’t worry about him. Fortunately, she hadn’t heard the news about Deena yet, but that wouldn’t last long. By tomorrow morning, word would reach her, and she’d hound him until he gave the details. Hopefully, he’d have time to talk to Deena tonight and work out what he’d say, but that meant conserving the phone battery he had.

The salty aroma of freshly popped corn wafted up the stairs, enticing Mac to leave his hideout. Mrs. Bonnie knew his weakness. There were few snacks he appreciated more than a big tub of popcorn with butter melted over it.

Following his nostrils, he left the room and ran into Phoebe at the top of the staircase. They stared at each other during an awkward silence. Was it his own feelings that made the scene uncomfortable? Judging by her rocking heels and hands in her pockets, it went both ways, but what reason did she have to feel uncomfortable?

Unless she’d heard about Deena. She had mentioned an unfavorable first impression of the actress. His girlfriend? No, that didn’t sound right. He wouldn’t put a label on the relationship while it was still in the birth stages.

Man, how confusing.

When in doubt, stick with neutral topics. “Strange weather, huh?”

“A little.”

They’d never had problems making conversation before. This stilted dialogue didn’t sit well with him, but he didn’t know how to fix it. Instead, he gestured down the stairs. “Ladies first.”

“Thanks.” She descended the steps without another word.

Mac walked down behind her, taking his time. Maybe he should grab his phone and keep it with him if Deena called. Or not. He wouldn’t be that rude person on his phone in the presence of guests. The internal debate continued until he decided he was wasting too much time thinking about it. There was a good chance Deena wouldn’t even call or text like she said, and if she did, a response could wait. He wouldn’t plan his life around her.

In fact, for the next two hours, he’d enjoy this time with the Graff family and not give a single thought to Deena. He’d find his way back to the familiar and comfortable.

Mr. Graff sneezed loudly.

“Bless you.” Mrs. Bonnie handed her husband a tissue.

“Tha…than...choo.” Mr. Graff wiped his nose with the tissue. “Would anyone mind if I go to bed? I’m not feeling so well all of a sudden.”

“I’ll make you a cup of tea with honey and lemon.” Mrs. Graff gave her husband a worried glance before leaving for the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything, Dad?” Phoebe looked at her dad with a hint of worry in the creases of her eyes.

“No, sweetheart. It’s nothing a bit of rest won’t fix.” He gripped the arms of the recliner and stood. “I’ll be good as new by tomorrow.”

Mr. Graff climbed the stairs, slower and stiffer than usual.

Mac caught a glimpse of Phoebe watching her father closely, and the need to protect and comfort her overwhelmed him. “I’m sure it’s only the weather. The drop in pressure is scientifically proven to wreak havoc on bodies.”

She cast an uncertain smile his way. “I’m sure that’s it.”

After a few minutes of silence, Mrs. Graff passed through the room carrying a cup of hot tea. “Your dad will be fine. The cold makes his arthritis act up, and he caught a cold from going in and out all day and messing with his body temperature.”

“Tell him I said good night, and I love him. I didn’t have a chance before he went upstairs.”

“I will.” Mrs. Graff leaned down and kissed Phoebe’s head. “I’ll call it an early night, as well. Help yourself to anything. You too, Mac.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Bonnie. I appreciate the warm, safe place to stay tonight.”

After she’d excused herself, he was left alone in the room with Phoebe, and they returned to their awkward dancing around each other.

Her teeth grazed her bottom lip until she spoke. “Do you still want to watch the movie?”

“Might as well.”

“I’ll get the popcorn.” She sprinted toward the kitchen before he could offer to help.

Feeling feisty, he strolled in after her. This strange barrier between them had to go, and someone had to take the first step. “Want a pop?”

She jerked her head up from pouring the popcorn into bowls. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“You’re avoiding me.”

“Am not.” Turning on a heel, she shook a finger. “You’re the one who escaped to the bedroom immediately after dinner.”

“Your mom gave me a set of spare toiletries.” He waved a hand. “I wasn’t going to carry them around the house.”

“But you stayed up there.”

He sighed. “Your dad met me in the hallway with a pair of pajamas. I dropped them off then called my mom.”

“Oh.” Head hung low, she focused on the popcorn. “You’re still acting weird, though. Like you’re hiding something.”

His face flushed. “What would I have to hide?”

Phoebe spun around, her voice rising with each word. “I don’t know, maybe, dating an actress?”

He crossed his arms and his insides squirmed. “I guess you saw the TEW article?”

“Darla told me about it first, then I read it.” She shifted, put all her weight on one leg. “Is it true?”

His gaze focused on the ceiling. How did he answer? “Kind of?”

“What kind of answer is that?” She rolled her eyes and thrust a bowl of popcorn his way.

“An honest one,” he shot back. Grabbing the bowl before any more kernels toppled out.

“How are you ‘kind of’ dating America’s sweetheart?”

He opened the refrigerator door, pulled out a can of pop, handed it to Phoebe, then grabbed one for himself. “It’s complicated.”

“Obviously,” she muttered under her breath.

Her disdain for Deena grated on his nerves. “I know you don’t care for her, but she’s a different person once you get to know her.”

“If you say so.” She tossed her hair behind one shoulder and stuck her nose in the air. Walked right past him as if he didn’t exist.

Aggravation rushed through him. What was Phoebe’s problem? In the two decades he’d known her, he’d never witnessed catty behavior from her. He took a deep breath before he went back into the living room.

She settled in her dad’s recliner with a crocheted afghan over her lap. Without looking at him, she asked, “Can you explain yet how you’re ‘kind of’ dating Deena?”

“Will you listen and comment without obvious disdain?” For the first time in his life, he found himself good and truly annoyed at her.

“I’m sorry.” When she lifted her head, he saw concern rather than judgment in her eyes. “The news took me by surprise. You’re one my oldest friends in the world, and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

His heart softened. “I appreciate that, but I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but love can be blind.”

He chuckled. “Love would be a gross overstatement.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Her wry grin complemented her features much better than the scowl.

Now that she’d lost her edge, he found himself more willing to explain. “The truth is, she asked to spend time with me and see where it goes. I agreed.”

She nodded slowly as though processing the news and unsure how to take it. “It’s all happened so fast. She’s been here, what, five days?”

“It’s not like we’re getting married.” He blew out a breath. “The TEW story took extreme liberties in their description. I barely know her, but she makes me laugh and feel good about myself.”

Creases formed on Phoebe’s forehead. She cradled her bowl of popcorn in her lap, staring at it. “Just promise you’ll keep an open mind. It’s not my business, but I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

“Why?”

Her gaze locked with his. “It’s not my place to say.”

“Really?” He tilted his head to the side and gave her what he hoped was his best dumbfounded expression. “It hasn’t stopped you yet.”

“You want my honest opinion?”

“Yes.” He might be annoyed at her for the moment, but he still valued her insight.

“Despite being America’s sweetheart, Deena doesn’t have the best reputation.”

“I’ve seen firsthand today how the media distorts the truth.” He popped open his can of Mr. Pep. “Deena has her flaws like everyone else, but you can’t believe all you read about her.”

She raised her brows. “Coming from the man who admitted two minutes ago that he barely knows her.”

The conversation exhausted him. “Can we talk about something, anything, else?”

“Fine.” Phoebe sipped her drink then set the can on the end table. “But don’t say I told you so when it all falls apart.”

He chose to ignore the last comment muttered under her breath. For whatever reason, Phoebe had a deep distrust of Deena, which he found unfair. Her only interaction with her had been the night she’d arrived and few people were their true selves after a day of travel. In his humble opinion, Phoebe would do well to show Deena grace.

The movie started, and he let himself get carried away in the plot. It wasn’t bad for a chick flick, or maybe he needed the distraction that badly. Occasionally, stole a glimpse of Phoebe. She seemed preoccupied, and he wondered if it was about Deena or something else. When the movie ended, he carried his empty bowl and can into the kitchen, washed the bowl, and then dropped the can in the recycling bin.

He climbed the stairs without saying goodnight to Phoebe. Why couldn’t she be happy for him? Could it be jealousy that he’d caught the attention of a superstar? He didn’t think so—he’d never seen Phoebe show interest in a celebrity’s life or care about what they wore or the latest gossip.

The only explanation he could think of was that she was cranky over being stranded in the storm and not having access to her own bed. When he’d first moved back in with his parents, there had been an adjustment period until it became his home again. That had to be it. She’d been out of her element tonight like Deena had been that first night.