“Hey,” I answer, putting the call on speaker.
“A-re you picking me up?” I look at the time on the clock hanging on the wall and silently curse.
“Yes.” I quickly pick up my laptop and almost-empty coffee cup and take both inside. “I’m getting ready to leave my house now.” I put my computer in my bag, then place my mug in the sink to wash later.
“We’re going to be late.”
“We’re not going to be late,” I assure him, knowing that being off schedule is one thing he cannot stand. “I’m putting on my shoes right now.”
“No, you’re no-t,” he grumbles, and I laugh as I head down the steps to my front door, carrying my bag and said shoes in my hand.
“I am! I promise.” I slip on my shoes, then jingle my keys near the mouthpiece of my phone so he can hear. “I’m walking out the door. I’ll be at your house in fifteen minutes tops.”
“O-kay.” He sighs, then hangs up. I start to walk out the front door but stop when I remember that today is garbage day, which means I need to haul the trash can from inside my garage down to the end of the driveway.
“Shit,” I curse, because now I really might be late. Opening my garage door, I flip on the light, then freeze when I see Maxim’s car is parked inside my single car garage. He must have placed it there before he left, and I had no idea, because I never use my garage unless it’s winter, since it’s such a pain to pull in and out of the cramped space.
“Well, I guess that means he was always planning on coming back,” I mumble to myself, then sigh when I see he moved my garbage can, making it completely impossible for me to get it out without seriously damaging his car.
Shutting the door and locking it, I pick up my phone, bag, and keys that I rested on the bench near the door, then head outside, finding Maxim’s number in my phone.
I press Call and listen to it ring as I get into my car, and my heart turns over in my chest when he answers, sounding half asleep. “Hey, babe.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I tell him while starting my engine and backing out of my driveway.
“I’m not complaining. I miss the sound of your voice and was pissed we didn’t get a chance to really talk last night,” he says, actually sounding pissed, and my stomach dips. “Is everything okay?”
“Your car is in my garage.”
“Yeah, I pulled it in before I took off, since Gene was taking me to the airport.”
“Oh,” I say quietly, remembering how on edge I was when he told me he was leaving, how I was sure that was his way of ending whatever… whatever this is between us. And all along, he planned on coming back.
“Is that all? You called to tell me that my car is in the garage?”
“I couldn’t get the garbage can out for trash day,” I say stupidly, and he groans.
“Shit, sorry about that. I’ll take care of the trash when I get back home, unless you wanna move it, then the key is in that bowl of junk you got near your front door.”
“That’s all important stuff, not junk.” Okay, it is kind of junk, but whatever.
“All right, then it’s in that bowl of important stuff you got next to your door.” The smile in his voice makes me smile, and I bite my lip. “I miss you.”
“Ditto.” My hands tighten on the steering wheel when he laughs. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing, babe. We’ll get to that another time. Are you heading to work?”
“Yeah, I’m pulling into Harris’s complex now so I can pick him up.”
“All right, well, call me later. I’m gonna try to get a couple more hours of sleep.”
“Sure,” I agree, really, really wanting to ask when he will be back, but I don’t.
“Later, babe. Be good.” He hangs up as I pull into a parking spot, and I don’t even have a chance to shut down the engine before Harris is walking out to my car. The smile that is normally on his face is replaced with a deep frown.
“You’re l-ate,” he greets me, falling into the passenger seat.
“I know, and I’m sorry.” I don’t try to make an excuse, because really, if I had been paying attention to the time this morning, I would have been here when I was supposed to be.
“It’s okay.” He looks over at me and smiles.
I smile back, then ask, “Where is Molly?”
“W-ith her mom, shopping,” he says, and I know then that he was probably bored being home alone.
“That’s fun.” I reverse out of my parking spot.
“She wants to make dinner tonight.”
“Who, Molly’s mom does?”
“Yes,” he groans. “She still doesn’t trust us being on our own.”