So Kieran did the only thing he could be sure of. He started helping.
It took them the better part of an hour just to clean up the mess made from the storm. Sammie swept up debris as Kieran lugged it out in garbage bags. A quick glance at his phone showed that Grant was on his way over with a buddy that ran a window business.
They were both sweating, Kieran’s old Seattle shirt soaked through, Sammie’s pale green tank top glued to her skin by the time they were done. When Grant and his friend finally arrived, Kieran decided to wait outside, letting the professionals takepoint with Sammie in the kitchen. It was a small room, and he wasn’t exactly a small guy. Things were a lot more crowded than they’d been when he and Sammie were lanky teenagers.
He walked through her home, still sure of his way around the place. It was different now, so different from the bright and happy place it had been years earlier. The paint on the walls looked faded. A layer of dust had settled on everything. A musty, stale scent pervaded his senses. Kieran knew Sammie and Atticus came by a few times a year to clean and air everything out, but Greta’s old house… it no longer felt like a home.
The screen door leading to the enclosed patio made a horrible screeching sound as Kieran swung it open. This room hadn’t changed much. A small wicker loveseat still sat to one side, the cushions faded from the constant sunlight pouring into the windows lining each wall. Close to half of the space was taken up by a mattress that had been there as long as Kieran had known the Mills family. It had been a favorite spot for sleepovers, long nights spent whispering in the dark, watching volleyball matches on Atticus’ phone when they were supposed to be sleeping or studying.
Sammie had always been there too, a quieter presence, often called away by her grandmother becauseof coursea girl couldn’t sleep over with the boys. It didn’t matter that Atticus whispered to Kieran about how he’d caught Sammie kissing Meghan Maloney in her room the moment both women were out of earshot.
“I still sleep out here sometimes.” Sammie’s voice had him turning around. She leaned in the doorway, screen propped open with a hip. She pulled off the faded brown ball cap she was wearing, pushing sweat soaked hair away from her face before settling it back onto her head.
Kieran grinned. “Is that why the sheets are clean?” He nudged the mattress with a foot.
“Came down here with Atticus and Kai about a month ago. Attie wanted to show the place off. We ended up crashing out here.” She lifted a pillow from the bed, making a face after she sniffed it. Okay, maybe notcleanclean.
“Just like old times.”
Sammie met his gaze with a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Just like old times.” Her heavy-lidded stare seemed distracted. Sad.
“The old men still in there?” Kieran stepped closer. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, crossing them over his chest instead of what instinct wanted him to do, which was reach out and pull her in, holding tight until that sadness melted away.
“Just left. Al”—his father’s buddy—“gave me a quote. Cheaper than all the prices I saw online.” Cheaper, but not cheap.
“Can we do the work ourselves?” Sure, the next couple weeks were going to be crazy with the last games of the season. And the tournament was on the line. But Kieran had said he would help with what he could, and he’d meant it.
“We can install it,” Sammie said, nodding. “He was just quoting me the price for the window itself.” Kieran could see her mind spinning, a string of calculated numbers flashing behind her eyes.
“We’ll get a payout in a couple weeks with everything we’ve made on our video so far.” He kicked at her shoe, pulling her attention back to him.
“Right.” He could tell she hadn’t been thinking about it, the money they would make from working together. Judging by the numbers he’d seen so far, it would be more than enough to cover the cost of the window. “But that’s just the beginning of everything plaguing this place.”
Sammie was right. Kieran had heard the long list of repairs Grant had rattled off when he’d arrived.
“Well.” Kieran closed some of the distance left between them. “We’ve still got the rest of the day to get this place cleaned up. I can look at the gutter that’s sagging on the side of the house, see if I can get it back into place.” His dad had mentioned it the night before, worried that it was too far gone to be fixed. But if Kieran could get it back up, maybe he could buy Sammie a few more months. Enough time for her to save up a bit more.
Sammie cleared her throat, looking away. “Thank you.” Kieran opened his mouth to let her know that she really didn’t need to keep thanking him, theywerefriends after all, but the way she sucked in a sharp breath, the way her eyes had gone too misty, it had him holding his tongue. Atticus had always been the one who wore his heart on his sleeve, his every emotion clear as day for everyone to see.
Not Sammie. Kieran could still remember that day in the rain, how she’d turned away from him, how she’d held the line of her shoulders straight until she thought he could no longer see her. Kieran had only ever seen Sammie break one time, and that had been the day of Greta’s funeral.
After a moment’s hesitation, Kieran reached out, pulling Sammie in close. This hug felt more settled than the one they’d shared the night before. As if both of them had been holding their breath, waiting for a chance to experience it again. Kieran pressed his lips to her hair, ignoring the way she sucked in a shaky breath.
He held her for probably too long. Long enough that he hoped he wasn’t giving her the wrong idea. But… Kieran wasn’t going to just stand there while she tried her hardest not to break down.
“Come on,” he finally said, even though his arms stayed wrapped around her, his chin resting on her head. “Let’s get to work.”
A piece of Sammie had cracked, standing there in her family’s old sunroom with Kieran.
The reality of her situation felt so bleak. Everything extra she had been saving, including the money Kieran said they’d made together so far, all of it was going to be gone. Maybe not for the window, no, Al was giving her a good deal, and Sammie knew it. But the gutters were worse than she had realized. And the air conditioning wasn’t cooling the house consistently, so she would need to get it looked at. The roof was old as shit. And there were spiders—fuckingspiders—in Atticus’ old room.
Greta had been one woman raising her two grandchildren, running a business by herself. She’d done her best to take care of the place, but some of the things going wrong now were problems that had existed long before Sammie inherited the house.
And now they were bad enough that she had no choice but to do something about them.
It was an all-encompassing sort of pressure, weighing her down, closing in on every side. And for what? Sammie didn’tlivehere. The house sat empty most of the time, only used if she or Atticus wanted to visit their old hometown for a weekend.
Sammie scrubbed the kitchen counter. Her hands ached and her skin felt brittle from the cleaning solution. The fumes burned her eyes, stinging her nose. She scrubbed the surface, again and again, and even though it was finally clean of dust and debris, the laminate was still stained, still warping from the water damage. She wanted to sling the wet cloth across the room in defeat.
