Page 16 of Shattered Dreams

“I think that’s a great idea,” Mr. Taylor says, and I remember that we’re not alone.

I’ve never been more proud of my kid as he shoves his Switch at me and takes Rylee’s hand.

“Okay, so if you were a pig,” he says as she drags him through the house until they disappear upstairs. I am frozen on the ground, looking up at Dre, who looks like he’s about to lose it.

Andre’s dad clears his throat and excuses himself, saying he’s going to check in with his wife, leaving Andre and I alone.

I rise slowly, taking a step toward him.

“You okay?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, it’s just… I didn’t think it’d be this much chaos, you know? Who knew moving was such a pain in the ass?”

I don’t hesitate to reach out and grab his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze. I can feel the tightness of his bicep.

“I know.”

Andre looks at me, his sharp gaze glimmering with sadness. I pull him close and hug my best friend because he needs it right now. His body relaxes in my hold and his shoulders slump, like just this one thing is a relief, and maybe it is.

I rub my hands up and down his back.

“Just breathe. It’ll all get sorted out,” I tell him, even though I don’t know the first thing about what he must be feeling. This house is huge, and filling it is going to be a process. When I moved into my apartment, it was easy. There wasn’t much space to fill, not many boxes to unpack. I’ve accumulated things over the years, but that’s easy.

He lets out a long, deep breath, his arms coming up to rest around my waist. The heat from his body is warm and oddly comforting, even though I’m not the one freaking out right now.

I’ve hugged Andre before, plenty of times. He’s my best friend, for God’s sakes. But something about this hug feels different from the others. I can feel his chest rising and falling against mine as he steadies his breath and relaxes, and I’m acutely aware of his body heat, and the solidness of his body against mine, of the heat of his palm soaking through my polo. His fingers squeeze me a little; his grip firm. I don’t know how long we stay there, like that, but when he pulls away from me, the warmth disappears, and I miss it.

“Thanks,” he says, standing up straighter.

I look at him, noting his expression is a little less frazzled, and he seems a little better.

“Yeah, of course.”

I lose track of time as I help Mr. Taylor, Andre, and the movers get everything into the house. It isn’t until I’m half-way through putting Rylee’s bed together that I am pulled from my fixation by a knock on the door.

I look up to see Mr. and Mrs. Taylor in the doorway, Maddox flanking Mr. Taylor and Rylee holding Mrs. Taylor’s hand.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask.

Before either of them can answer, Maddox hurriedly says, “Can I go, Dad, please?”

“Go… where?”

Mrs. Taylor is the one who speaks up.

“To grab some dinner for these hard workers,” she says with a wink.

“And ice cream!” Rylee squeals, clutching her stuffed pig to her chest.

“Looks like you found Bacon J. Ham,” I say with a smirk.

Rylee giggles. “He was hiding in Daddy’s car.”

Maddox shrugs. “Under the seat.”

I chuckle. “Of course.”

Maddox looks at me with pleading eyes, and I look up at Mr. Taylor.