The breeze flies through my hair, Lucas’s hat keeping it at bay.
He’ll have some things to say about this when he finds out where my new home is.
Everyone will. Buying Lucas’s mother’s house would’ve been better. I tossed the idea around for about a minute that night when I talked to him at the gym. It’s a short walk to the bakery, and it’s still in the Falls, close to everyone.
But as I look down the street, at the empty porches and no traffic—no Trents or Caruthers—I finally feel like I’m on my own. Even more than I did when I started Frosted.
About ten steps lead up to my new front door, two floors rising above that. A huge house with more bedrooms than I need, but…
Plenty of room to grow.
“01 Knock Hill.” Elisabeth stands at my side. “The neighborhood—what’s left of it—will be curious about you. As I understand it, the house is part of some local lore.”
I’m locked on the attic window, always most fascinated with the high rooms as if things are more secret up there.
What she says finally clicks, and I turn to her. “What?”
“I just wanted to repeat my warning,” she points out. “Some consider the house a landmark of sorts. They might not be entirely welcoming to someone else taking possession of it. You understand?”
I catch movement next door, seeing Farrow and some other guy standing in front of the side window, facing me and pinching each other’s nipples.
I snort and turn away, trying to cover it with a cough.
“I’m not worried,” I choke out.
I’ve got a powerful friend close who will give me his endorsement.
Ms. Doucet fondles the stud in her ear before ushering me up the stairs. “Let’s take another look before I leave you to your new home.”
Lucas
Farrow’s motorcycle rumbles in her driveway, and I stand in the kitchen, frozen like my feet have sprouted roots into her floor.
Make her stay.It’s quiet here, just how she likes. It could be just the two of us without any overbearing older brothers or parents or curious eyes. We could make dinner and watch a movie, but…
I listen to her speed away, closing my eyes with my heart in my fucking stomach, because all I could think about with her in the room was her naked on my bed last night. I can’t get the images out of my head and how much I loved finding out she dreams of me. Can I be her friend now? Can I trust myself to be alone with her?
Fuck.
She’ll be moving soon. I’ll be close, but not too close. I need to keep myself under control, so she trusts me again. I don’t want her latching on to Noah or Farrow becausethey have rides.
My house was paid for in cash. Does Quinn really have access to that much money? Without a loan?
Then she can damn well afford a vehicle of her own. Two guys she barely knows, and who won’t be there the rest of her life, aren’t an excuse to put off the inevitable.
And…they’re not going to give her something for nothing.
The next morning, I step into Fallon’s workshop, a former chimney service business in a black brick house, far off the road with ivy climbing the wall on the right side of the door. The creak of the screen door sounds like it’s from the fifties, and Quinn immediately enters my thoughts again. She probably insisted Fallon keep the rusted, aluminum door because it’s louder than a doorbell, but better because anyone just entering your place doesn’t mean strangers. She would say it means friends, and the sound would make us smile.
Or something weird like that. Everything makes Quinn feel, and so much of how she associates with the world is rooted in memory. Of which, I’m a part.
I want to laugh with her again. So badly. And I want Madoc and Fallon and everyone else back in my life. As my love of Dubai starts to sink to the back of my brain, and the Falls takes its place, I know that what I gave up here wasn’t worth any price.
“Who’s there?” Fallon calls out.
I round a glass partition adorned with plants and enter a large room with multiple desks, drafting tables, and a seating area in the corner. Emerald green subway tiles adorn the walls, and I look up, seeing a small conference room through the glass walls upstairs.
Fallon is the only one here. Madoc said she often mentored college students and took in interns, but for the most part, there was no staff. Just her small passion projects. Technically, she’s on an extended leave from the companywe both work for, which simply means she can have her job back any time. I think the kids and Madoc’s building political aspirations were the excuse she was looking for to have some creative freedom again.
