Page 90 of The Route to You

“I’m not sure.” He studied the counter like the butcher block suddenly needed a thorough examination. “There’s, uh . . . a lot to consider.” He glanced up and gave her a wry smile. “We don’t exactly have a clean, uncomplicated history.”

She rested her weight on her hands. “Weren’t you the one talking about blank slates?”

“It’s a little different when it comes to people, don’t you think?”

“Well”—she smiled at him sweetly—“yes, but we’re friends, right?”

He let out a long, slow sigh, holding her gaze. “Yes, we’re friends.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

He started to open his mouth, and she sobered and continued, “Look, Kyle, I get it. I’m the villain here. I treated you badly in the past, and I was selfish. But I promise you—and I know I’m far from perfect and won’t always get it right—that I will never do anything to hurt you like that, or our friendship, again. Anyway, it’s just forty-two days. If you get sick of me by then, you already have an out. And I won’t ask you about the job search, because I’m in the same boat.”

Thankfully, she had money “leftover” after the division of assets with Evan and purchasing the house, but how long could she live on that before she needed a job?

And Kyle doesn’t have a job, either, but must have savings if he’s still going to PT. Right? He might not even be able to rent an apartment if he couldn’t point to an employer and, unlike her, he probably didn’t have a trust to point a bank toward for a loan collateral. There was so much she didn’t know, but didn’t feel it was respectful to ask him about finances.

The silence was only broken by Sadie sniffing the ground where the sub had been. Sloan snapped her away and glanced back at Kyle, who watched her, his face unreadable.

Now you’ve done it, Sloan. You’ve smashed your frail truce.

Kyle glanced toward the hallway, then back at her, like the thought of somewhere else—anywhere else—had just tipped the scale.

“All right,” Kyle said, dragging the words out like he still wasn’t quite certain. “Let’s do it.”

“I don’t want to twist your arm⁠—”

“No, I’m serious.” His mouth twitched, not quite a smile, not quite a grimace, and she had the strange sense he knew this was a bad idea and was choosing it anyway.

He straightened, his eyes sparking with more determination, and he said, “It could be a good thing. And I can help you fix up the place in exchange for letting me stay.”

“You say that with such confidence.”

“I mean, considering your other options right now are a goofy-ass dog, a thieving mutt, and my dead grandmother, this could actually go well. I don’t have to do a lot to win the favorite roommate award.”

Sloan couldn’t stop the snort of laughter that bubbled up as some relief went through her.

Some.

In the back of her mind, she couldn’t keep herself from thinking about how messy this might get if something went wrong.

Because—let’s face it—she wasn’t completely witless.

In January, when she’d been running away from life, being attracted to Kyle wasn’t really on the radar. And even now, she didn’t want to imagine being in another relationship. But this was Kyle. He used to own her heart.

Is it foolish to believe that living with Kyle won’t lead to the possibility of love?

And the possibility of crushing hurt.

. . . because the reality was, she might be at risk of falling for him all over again . . . but he might not ever be able to trust me with his heart again.

24

KYLE

“Will you put that box down?” Kyle’s mom said, rushing up behind him on the driveway. She caught the corner of the box in his hands, grabbing it like she was actually helping take the weight off.

Kyle grimaced as he slid the box onto the lowered gate of his truck, then turned to face his mother. “Brenda, this is exactly why I’m moving out.”