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“Hey.”
She jumps like I’ve fired a gun, nearly dropping the box in her arms. A scream tears from her throat that would make you think I’m some kind of serial killer.
My eyebrows shoot up, and I have to bite back a laugh. “Jesus, Lily.”
“Jesus, me? Jesus, YOU! You scared the shit out of me.” She presses her free hand to her chest, breathing hard.
I chuckle, unable to help myself. “Am I really that ugly?”
Her gaze sweeps down my body, taking in my sweaty shirt and joggers, before she swallows hard and looks away. The reaction has heat shooting through my veins. The temptation to make a bad decision is within reach. I swallow and look at her trunk. Don’t read too much into it. She just broke up with Matt. The last thing she needs is another complication.
“Is that everything?”
“Appears so.” Her voice is clipped, frustrated.
I glance at her. “What about the furniture?” She brought a lot more than a handful of boxes when she moved in.
Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, defeat settling over her features. “I’m leaving it.”
The primal urge to protect her rises to the surface. With how much time I spent over at Matt and Lily’s while they were dating, I know he probably picked a fight with her. Sometimes I really don’t fucking understand him. I grab one of the boxes from her trunk without asking.
She starts to protest. “Cole, I can handle it.”
I ignore her, carrying it inside and setting it in her room before heading back for the last two. Lily passes me on the way, smiling tightly. She doesn’t want the help. Too damn bad. She doesn’t need to be carrying all this by herself. When I come back with the last of the boxes, I find her standing by her bed, looking lost and small and so fucking tired it makes my chest ache. I set the stack down by the others.
She turns, eyes bright with unshed tears. “Thanks.”
I set the boxes down carefully and approach her like she’s a deer that’ll spook at a twig cracking. “Are you okay?”
That breaks whatever dam she’s been holding back. “No.” The word comes out broken, and in a rush, she’s talking. Fast. Like if she doesn’t get it all out now, she never will.
“No, I’m not okay. I’ve been working two jobs to try and make ends meet but I’m failing. So much so that I just agreed to a third so I could get a solid lead because the other realtors are hoarding them and Mom’s housing expenses are astronomical. Oh, and on top of that, my credit cards are maxed out and every rental I apply for rejects me because my credit score is fucked. And Matt—” Her voice cracks. “Matt is the biggest waste of time and piece of shit who won’t give me my things back.”
She catches herself, sending me an apologetic look. “Sorry, I’m not trying to bring you in-between us.” Then she covers her face with her hands and sits on the bed. “Oh god. Did I say that all out loud?”
I want to tell her that her ex-boyfriend is a fucking asshole and we all know it. I want to say that she deserves so much better than the way he treated her. Instead, I sit down next to her, careful to leave a respectable amount of space between us. “For what it’s worth, you don’t need to apologize for calling Matt what he is.”
She peeks at me through her fingers. “He’s your friend.”
“Yeah, well, friends can be assholes sometimes.” I lean back on my hands. “And Matt’s been a grade-A asshole for a while now.”
A choked laugh escapes her. “Just a while?”
“Okay, a long while.” I bump her shoulder gently with mine. “Listen, you can stay here as long as you need. The guys won’t mind. I don’t either. There’s no pressure, no timeline.”
She shakes her head immediately. “Oh no, I couldn’t. You guys have done enough, and I don’t want to impose.”
“Lily.” I wait until she looks at me. “You’re not imposing. We like having you here.”
I like having you here way more than I should.
“Matt—”
“Fuck Matt.” The words are harsh, but honest. “This isn’t about him. This is about you needing a safe place to stay, and us having the room.”
She studies my face for a long moment. I can practically see the internal debate happening behind those green eyes. Finally, she shakes her head. “I can’t. It’s too complicated. You’re his friends, and I’m his ex, and it’s messy.”
I want to push. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to convince her to stay, to let us take care of her. Though the way she’s holding herself, so carefully contained, tells me that pushing will only make her run faster.
