She does seem to have had a shitty run of luck lately. That doesn’t mean things can’t change. “Can you stay with your friend for a while?” Maybe sharing rent with someone would help get her back on her feet.
“Meg’s renting a room over someone’s garage while she looks for a house.”
Yeah, that probably won’t work. “Do you have any other friends?”
“Yes. I have so many friends lining up to help me out. See. Look at all of them.” She gestures toward the empty stairwell.
“There’s no need for the snark. I’m only trying to help.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a bitch.”
“It’s okay.” That notice flutters in the breeze.
She must hear it as well, because she turns, glancing over her shoulder at the ominous pink paper. “I guess this is it. It’s time to go home.”
Wait.Home?“Back to Maryland?”
“Yeah. At least my parents will be thrilled.”
Parents who didn’t want her to move in the first place.
She catches her wild hair, pulling it back from her face and twisting it into that crazy poodle on the top of her head. “All I wanted was to make it on my own.”
I understand exactly what she’s talking about. My parents would happily foot my bills for the rest of my lifeifI did everything according to their rules.
No, thank you.
Her head falls to her arms folded over her knees.
She looks so defeated. It’s not fair that her asshole ex cheated on her. It’s not fair that some drunk dickhead totaled her car.
It’s not fucking fair.
Loren may be mayhem wrapped in a pretty package, but she’s also sweet and funny and helped me when I was feeling down and…Shit.
I can’t believe I’m about to say this. “You could always move in with me.”
“Ha!”
Well, at least I made her laugh.
I throw myself down next to her, mirroring her position. “I’m serious.”
Her eyes narrow as she watches me, the tiny wrinkle between her dark eyebrows gradually deepening. “I can’t move in with you, Elliott.”
“Why not? It makes perfect sense. You already know who I am.”
Her nose wrinkles when she squints up at me. “Do I, though?”
She might not realize it, but she knows me better than most—which isn’t saying a lot, to be fair, but it is saying something. “I let you drive my truck; we’re practically best friends.”
“I appreciate the offer. Really, I do. But it won’t work. Maybe I’ll find someone willing to rent me a cheap room.”
Let me get this straight. “You’d rather live with a stranger than move in with me?”
“You’rea stranger.”
“You’ve cooked me dinner…”
