It was like stepping back in time—same furniture, same painted walls, same wall art. Some of our family pictures hadbeen replaced by more recent photos that didn’t include my mom. My dad lived in a tomb of our old lives. Italmostmade me feel bad for him.
The door swung open behind me.
“You’re late,” I grumbled without even turning.
“Wow, this place is the—”
“Same,” I cut her off. “I know. We have our work cut out for us.”
For a minute, Brenna wordlessly assessed the space. I wondered if she had the same sinking feeling in her gut as I did in mine. When she turned to me, our eyes met, and my gut sank even further as we stood there in the remnants of our childhoods.
Brenna’s presence hung over every inch of this place. Her home life had never been steady. Her mom worked inconsistently—to excess when things were going well, and not at all when something went off the tracks. Thatsomethingoften had to do with whatever undeserving man she let into her life… and Brenna’s.
My parents loved Bren and had opened their home to her. She always hated it when she had to leave.
“Well, I’m here. As commanded.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I assume you have a plan?”
I fought the urge to respond to theas commandedcomment—I didn’t need distractions from the topic at hand—and cleared my throat. “Divide and conquer. One of us takes the business, the other the house.”
After a sleepless night, this was the best I could come up with to accomplish our goals without losing my mind. We couldn’t sell the properties for six months, but if I had anything to say about it, I’d leave Middlebury in three. Even if a sale couldn’t go through, we could still look for buyers while Brenna and I returned to lives hundreds of miles away from each other.
A safe distance.
“Fine,” she said.
Still as agreeable as when we’d been best friends.Go along to get along.Having a mother like Kathy Quinn made rolling with circumstances a necessary skill.
“I worked at the café more than you, so I’ll take the business.”
Leaving me with this fucking house. It made sense, but I didn’t have to like it.
“Fine,” I echoed her, squaring my shoulders. “But we both have to meet with my dad’s girlfriend who used to run the place. She’s expecting us in”—I glanced at my watch—“forty minutes.”
“Fortyminutes? Nathan, I’m not dressed for a business meeting, and with traffic, it’ll take at least thirty-five—”
“You look goo—I mean fine. You look fine.” I cringed.Jesus fucking Christ.Ten minutes with her, and I was already making an ass out of myself.
She pointed to the T-shirt beneath her zip-up hoodie. The design included the textTalk Sports to Meand the image of a girl with her finger over her lips surrounded by different sports balls. “Did you not notice what’s on my shirt, Nathan? It’s hardly professional.”
How did she expect me to answer that?Yes, of course, I noticed because the words are written across your chest, which I couldn’t ignore if I tried.
I rolled my eyes and suppressed a smile. “I can’t believe you still have it.”
She blinked. She either hadn’t expected me to remember or forgot she got that shirt in high school. Brenna’s T-shirt collection was so large, she ran out of drawers and had to hang them in her closet. Every time her mom complained that she never tried,Brenna doubled down by buying more T-shirts.
I wouldn’t want her any other way.
Shit, I’m screwed.
“Did you know he had a girlfriend?” she asked, bringing the conversation back to easy waters.
“Yeah,” I said on an exhale, drawing the word out. “She’s… an experience. You’ll see. Anyway, we should get going. Where are you staying, by the way?”
Brenna hiked her purse higher on her shoulder and followed me to the door. “Derek has an extra room. He said I could crash with him.”
My footsteps halted. “You’re not staying with Ellis.”
Watching him put his hands on her yesterday had been almost more than I could stand. Thinking about her living with him…for months…
