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I wave my hand around the disaster zone that used to be my living room. “I can⁠—”

“No.” Gage’s voice cuts through my protest, gruff and final. “It’s not safe.”

I glance around in amusement. Sure, the house is in rough shape, but dangerous? The kitchen sink works. My neck is a little irritated from sleeping on a couch, but I’ve definitely slept in worse places. I almost say as much until I see the severe looks on all three of their faces.

Hudson runs a hand through his dark brown hair, those green eyes more serious than I’ve ever seen them. “There are saw dust particles, nails, and tools lying around. Not to mention, we still have to deal with the mold in the primary bathroom.”

“It wasn’t toxic though,” I argue, though I don’t know why I’m being so stubborn about this. Maybe because accepting help feels like admitting defeat.

“You’re not staying here,” Gage reiterates, arms crossed over his broad chest, flannel shirt stretching tight. “We promise to stay out of your way and we live far enough out of town that no one in Big Ridge has to know unless you want them to.”

I chew on my bottom lip, eyeing them. They’re completely serious. No hint of joking or backing down. My mind races through the alternatives. I could get a hotel room, only that would mean facing the gossip mill. I could sleep in my car, except that’s actually dangerous.

The house creaks around us, settling deeper into its state of disrepair. A piece of drywall chooses that exact moment to fall from the ceiling and land with a soft thud on the coffee table. We all stare at it.

“Okay, universe, point taken.” I exhale slowly, the fight draining out of me. “But just for a few nights.”

Gage nods. “Perfect. You’ll be more comfortable at our place anyway. Eat your donut.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I grumble, lifting the yummy pastry to my mouth anyway. Vegan donuts aren’t as good as the real thing. The bakery in town does a pretty damn good job, though.

It’s terrifying and comforting at the same time to realize that these three men, who owe all of their loyalty to Matt and none to me, stepped in without hesitation. When was the last time someone paid attention to what kind of coffee I liked? When was the last time someone noticed the little things that mattered to me?

I take a sip of the latte and close my eyes. Somehow, this is exactly what I needed.

But I can’t get used to it, I remind myself. They’re Matt’s friends, not mine.

Following Hudson’s truck through the winding mountain roads feels a little ridiculous. I know these streets like the back of my hand, and I’ve sold a house in this area, two of far too few given how much debt I’m carrying, but my utter lack of career success is a worry for a different day. While it’s silly to be escorted, the guys insisted, and I didn’t have it in me to argue.

The farther we get from town, the easier it is to breathe. The distance and surrounding woods will be good for me. I turn onto their road behind their trucks. The house that comes into view always takes my breath away. It’s not a mansion, but it’s a rustic cabin that they’ve painstakingly updated ever since they bought it. They took a small family home and turned it into five bedrooms of pure mountain perfection, all natural stone and timber that blends seamlessly into the forest around it. They’ve done so much work, and it’s gorgeous. This is exactly why I hired them to help me with Mom’s house.

I throw the car into park right as Hudson appears at my door, opening it and offering me a hand which I eye suspiciously. “I can manage a door.” Hudson and the guys are always so proper.

He pins me with a look, his green eyes somewhere between stern and amused. “Are you going to let me help you or complain about me being a gentleman some more?”

Well, when he puts it like that. Relenting, I carefully place my hand in his, swallowing at the warmth that shoots up my arm as he helps me stand. We’re too close. I’m practically breathing his air. Is his breath minty? I almost lean in to sniff—almost—but he clears his throat and steps back, releasing my hand.

“We’ll show you around.”

Is it me or is he avoiding my gaze now? He turns, Cole and Gage following his lead, and heads to the door. Maybe if I could stop overanalyzing everything and go with the flow I wouldn’t be worried that I’ve already made it weird. The three of them turn to see why I’m not following.

“Coming,” I call out, voice cracking. Way to play it cool. I follow the stone pathway and join them at the door. Hudson opens it and lets me in first. The interior is even more impressive than the outside. Gleaming hardwood floors stretch through an open concept living area. There’s a built-in cubby-and-bench combo for coats and shoes, and not a single boot or jacket is thrown carelessly about. Everything has its place.

“You guys actually keep it this clean?” The words slip out before I can stop them.

Hudson chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. He brushes past where I’ve so rudely blocked their way. “Gage has a thing about organization.”

I step aside, eyeing the man in question.

“Don’t act so surprised,” he says with a laugh.

“I’m not,” I lie.

Gage lifts an eyebrow.

“Okay, so I am, but you’re guys and this is essentially a bachelor pad. I expected more. . .” I trail off.

“Pizza boxes and empty beer cans?” Cole nudges me.