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She bites her lip, reaching up to tug on her messy auburn bun, her hazel eyes shining with amusement.“I was expecting a sex dungeon with a man chained to the wall, to be honest. I guess Kent has changed you.”
He has.
So did Peter.
I pull the handle, popping open the car door. Birds are chirping, and the scent of freshly watered grass fills my nose. All that’s missing is the sound of a man telling his wife good morning and kids running out the door to head to school. Maybe in an alternative universe, it would have been.
I’ve been reading a lot about parallel universes. I like the idea. Silly as it may sound, I cling to it. I hold onto the idea that Peter and I are together in some parallel dimension. Unfortunately, I’m stuck in this one; at least, that’s how I used to feel. Kent’s changing that.
I feel guilty about it. Maybe that's why I brought us here. To come home.To remember who I first loved.To help Poppy end the chapter, she tried to skip over.
“You haven’t gone inside. Looks can be deceiving,” I grin, winking at Poppy before I close the door. I don't want her to linger too long on my face in case she sees the truth.
“Are you sure we should have come back here?” Poppy questions.“What if someone sees us?”
“When people see us here, they run and hide. They know what trouble looks like. You and I are walking and talking.”
Poppy snorts as she gets out.
I roll my shoulders, feeling like I need a long, hot bath. Sleeping in the car was less than pleasing, but I have to admit, it was the wiser choice. That motel was…ugh, I just got chills thinking about it.
In the distance, a firetruck wails, causing Poppy to jump. Her big hazel eyes pivot towards me,“What’s that?”
“A firetruck,” I deadpan.
She rolls her eyes.“Don’t be snippy with me.”
“I’m working on a lack of beauty sleep. This is the best version of me you’re getting. Come on,” I wave her towards the door.
“Why do you think there’s a firetruck?”
“I don’t know, Pops, maybe a pussy cat is stuck in a tree,” I grumble, raising my wrist to the front door, knowing I’m totally going to freak her out. I wave it over the palm sensor, and the door clicks open.
“What?” Poppy’s eyes ping-ponged from the door lock to my hand.“Where are your keys?” she asks.
“Did I forget to mention I have superpowers?” I joke as I step inside, steeling my spine against the swell of emotions. I never changed the interior, but I have a feeling Peter would have. It’s badly outdated, and as cute as the house is, Peter was a tech nerd like me. He would have completely outfitted the inside.
Maybe I haven’t touched anything because, in some alternate reality, I figured he already did the work for me.
“Seriously, how did you open the door? An app?”
“Good guess, but no.”
“How?” Poppy grabs my wrist.
“Superpowers.” I try to keep a straight face, but the effort is futile. Laughter bubbles up.“I have a chip,” I wave my hand in her face,“in my palm.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Ugh, not my kink. No piss or shit games here.”
“Harper, stop.”
“But I'm just getting started.” I pout.
“Harper.” Poppy's insistence mixes with curiosity as she examines my hand, searching for a scar. She won’t find one; the insertion was seamless.
“I really do have a chip in my palm. It’s programmed for small tasks, like unlocking doors. Handy, isn’t it?”
