“Spit it out, Julie. Who was on the phone? Taya? Did you call her?”
“I texted her. Just to check in.” When he doesn’t elaborate, my eyebrows raise, my lips curl inward. “Then she called me,” he adds.
I blink once, my eyes tracking back and forth between his, and silently wait.
“She’s coming home for break, too.”
I tilt my head and nod, kinda sassy-like because I already know this and it’s starting to piss me off a little that he’s pussyfooting around whatever it is he needs to tell me.
He exhales and drops his gaze from mine. “She doesn’t want to stay at her house.”
“Okay.” I drag the word out with an unspokenandafter it.
“I thought I could offer her the apartment and ask you to stay with me. But . . .”
“Lilly and Noah are using it now.” I nod as I say it, and he nods along.
“What should we do?”
“Did you already offer her the apartment?”
“No, I suggested it as a possible option and said I’d talk to you about it.”
I’m nodding again and starting to feel like a wind-up doll. “And she doesn’t want to stay at her house because of all the shit that went down.” I say it out loud, but I’m more saying it to myself. I get the triggers of places. I hate everything about Oak Valley now, the town I grew up in—except for my sister, Olivia, and her husband, Ryan. The rest of it could vaporize for all I care. Okay, maybe not Mrs. Franklin. And I guess Chase is okay now. Fuck, enough with the morbid spiral. “What do we do?” I throw the same question back to him.
“I mean we have two spare bedrooms here. But that would be weird. Would that be too weird?”
“Truth? Yeah. Super fucking weird. But also, our lives are . . . kinda weird.” I shrug. “Or at least not typical. The way we met, got together, our pasts. Maybe we need to embrace the shit show for the sake of the greater good.”
His bark of laughter is my only response before he takes my mug and sets it on the nightstand next to his and sweeps me onto his lap, kissing me. “God, I love you, sassy girl. Like really fucking love you. Sometimes, I think you must be a dream or a figment of my imagination. How’d a girl as perfect as you end up with a guy like me?” He’s nuzzling his nose into my neck and the sensitive spot behind my ear now, making me lose my train of thought.
“Okay, okay. Stop distracting me.” I swat at his hands that are beginning to roam and push his shoulders back, wrapping my fingers around his nape. Looking into the endless pools of his hooded gaze, I resist the urge to kiss him. “What are we going to do with all these people? What if Allie and Ashley come?”
Taking one of my hands in his, he kisses my palm. “It’s going to get crowded, that’s what. Fuck it. We’ll feed everyone at Brew and it can be our own winter campout.”
If I don’t think too much about Taya being his ex, I find I’m excited to host and create a space where people can relax and come together. A space I would’ve run to when I felt untethered. That calms my system and gives me all the feels. “Fuck it. Let’s do it.” I grin, showing all my teeth. “Tell Taya. I’ll head over to the apartment and pack my shit, clean the place up.”
“I’m coming with you. I’ll help. We’ll go to the store and pick up provisions for all our guests afterwards.” He stands, pulling me with him and wraps his arms around me. “I’m weirdly excited we’re doing this. Thanks for rolling with it.”
“I am, too, weirdly.” Resting my cheek against his pec, his heartbeat thudding softly against my ear, I admit, “I actually kinda like Taya, what I know about her so far. I low-key hope we can be friends.”
His arms squeeze me tighter. “My sweet Ever girl. I fucking love you.”
Tilting my head, I kiss the dimple at the corner of his mouth. “I fucking love you, too. Do you think we say that too much?”
Swatting my ass, he replies, “Do you? Wait, ask me if I care. Never mind. My answer is no. To both.”
I giggle.Perfect answer.
He adds,“Snagging two protein bars from the kitchen.” When I groan, he adds, “I’ll treat you to a killer lunch before we hit the store.”
“Deal.” I link my fingers with his and pull him through the bedroom door toward the stairs.
Chapter 3
Everly
Waking up alone is nothing new. Julian always rises before me and usually falls asleep after me. I’m not sure how he does it, because he doesn’t drag or act tired—ever. Blinking against the daylight streaming through the wall of windows and slider, I see him leaning against the doorframe of the sliding glass, back to me. His silhouette highlighted by the morning sunisnew. His muscled frame is outlined in sparkling detail, like a pop culture vampire. I watch silently, slowly blinking the sleep out of my eyes as he brings a steaming mug of coffee to his lips and sips, his bicep bulging against the white cotton fabric of his shirt. He’s barefoot, one leg crossed over the other, the low-slung gray sweats cling to his chiseled legs. He looks snuggly but somber.
