“Stella’s not—”
But I stop. Because what I was about to say wasStella’s not falling for me.And for too many reasons, I don’t want to say that.
The army of reasons feels like ants crawling over my skin.
Because if my defense isStella’s not falling for me,then am I admitting that if she did, she’d be in danger of heartbreak?
An image of Zoe in her baggy clothes and tired eyes assaults me.
It’s not a giant leap to picture Stella looking at me that same way. The thought guts me.
And how did we even get here? I shouldn’t be saying anything to them about us. It’s not theirs. It’s hers. It’s mine.
Ours.
But there’s something else that makes me bite my tongue. If I sayStella’s not falling for meout loud, will that make it true?
Pen’s always going on about speaking things into being. How we create our own realities.
Shit. I don’t want to say it. Because I don’t want to risk making it true.
And that scares the fuck out of me.
The drive homeis mere minutes but time seems to crawl like the continental drift.
When we get back to the house, it smells like rosemary and roasted garlic. Homey. Soothing. Laughter from the kitchen tells me Stella, Maisy, and Pen are having dinner.
I can’t go in there. My head’s a mess.
Instead, I take the back hallway to the foyer and go up to my room. And, yes, when I pass the door to the living room, it feels like a tractor field tries to grab me and pull me in. I resist the pull, but memories of last night still grab hold.
I carry them upstairs and flop on my bed, my head on fire.
Stella’s not falling for me. Of course, she’s not.
It’s too soon. We’ve only known each other a little over a month.
Besides, she’s way too careful for that.
Tyler and Nina are just looking out for her. And why wouldn’t they? They love her. Who doesn’t? She’s amazing.
She takes care of everyone. In a short time, she’s made all of us feel at home. Made Nina feel safe. Made Livy feel seen and heard. Given Pen the freedom to express herself.
With scary as shit window crows and a truly terrifying trio of yard witches.
Hell, she’s made us into a family.
No wonder Nina and Tyler are worried about me fucking this up.
And dammit all if they haven’t gotten me worried too.
I shove myself off the bed and pace my room.
I dig my phone out of my back pocket and check the time. Nearly seven. Bear is probably doing the whole dinner-bathtime-bedtime routine with his babies, but screw him. I jab his contact and press the phone to my ear.
“Yo,” he answers, and when I hear splashing in the background, I know I’ve nailed it.
“What you up to?” I ask as a courtesy. One that is beyond gracious since it’s half his fault I’m all torn up. After all, he had to go and marry Maggie and give her reign over his life and somehow mine.
