I’m too embarrassed to tell her.
“I’m fine,” I lie, “Tired. How many boxes left?”
“Three, then that mattress on the front yard.”
I nod, “Okay, let’s do this and after I’ll order us food and wine.”
“You owe me food and wine,” She grumbles, “Why didn’t you hire someone?”
“It’s my first home,” I tell her, heading back out to the van we rented to haul all my boxes and things over from her house and storage, “I wanted to do it myself.”
And now I’ve experienced it, I will never do it again.
She scrunches her nose up in distaste, “Next time, I’mbusy.”
I laugh, “Noted.”
We get the last of the boxes inside and then team up to tackle the mattress, somehow managing to get it up the stairs and into the bedroom in one go, though I am covered in sweat when all is said and done.
Collapsing down onto the mattress on the floor, the only soft piece of furniture in the place, I try to catch my breath and cool down. Sloane joins me there and for a few delightful minutes, we lay there while my muscles pulse and heart races. Moving is more exercise than dancing.
All this would have been done hours ago if I had just told my brother, the guys would have done it in no time but at least this way I will get a few days of peace. The moment they know I’m all moved in, Sebastian will have Dean, the resident genius hook up security and I won’t know a moment of peace.
I complain a lot, but I do value my brother and everything he has done for me, but I want to live a little too.
“Food?” I ask.
“Fuck yes,” Sloane groans, “I am starving.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m placing the takeout containers on top of one of the boxes next to the mattress and then grabbing the stack of solos I pulled from one of the boxes so I can pour the wine.
“So classy,” Sloane laughs, accepting thecup I hand to her.
“Please,” I sip my own drink, “Pretty sure you drank out of a shoe at a college party once.”
She cringes, “Totally did but college Sloane and today Sloane are not the same people.”
I scoff, “You’re telling me.”
“Life, girl,” She stares down into her cup, “Fucks you up.”
I hum my agreement.
“God, I’m so fucking fed up with being sad all the time,” She growls out, reaching for a chicken wing from one of the containers.
“Babe,” I blink at her, “You’re allowed to be sad.”
“I know that,” She tears into the food, “But like I disappeared because it was taking over my life and even here, away from all that shit, it’s still taking over my life.”
I remain silent. I don’t know what to say, what Sloane went through isn’t something I’ve had to deal with myself and on top of it, she almost fucking died. So, I think she should probably cut herself some slack but it’s Sloane and if I know my best friend, she holds herself to the highest of standards.
“Can you tell me about your problems?” She pouts, “I don’t wanna be sad today.”
“Oh boy,” I blow out a breath, “Promise you won’t laugh at me?”
“I pinky swear on that bottle of wine,” Her lashes flutter before she grins, “This is gonna be good isn’t it?”
“Depends on how you define good,” I grumble before I recount everything that happened with Killian, from the club to the day I spent at his house during the storm.
