I glance around the living room—the broken steps, the leaning railing, the smoke detectors in pieces on the kitchen counter, the pile of pipe-fixing supplies sitting in the hallway.
It’s a shit show. “Yep. Everything’s totally fine. Great, really.” I cross my fingers, hoping it worked.
There’s a long beat of silence before Tessa says, “I’ll call you back,” and her line clicks again.
Millie chuckles. “She’s either tracking Dad’s location or something came up at work.”
I roll my eyes. Sometimes, when I’m unsure about life, I like to think to myself,What would Tessa do?orWhat would Millie do?My sisters have very different responses to most things in life. Millie tends to quietly think—or overthink—and weigh all the options. Meanwhile, Tessa is a doer—ready to act in a heartbeat and barely giving anyone time to catch up.
I’m almost positive Tessa is in the process of pushing her nose further into this situation, but I don’t even know how to prevent it. She’s been a fixer for everyone else her entire life. She can’t help it.
“Oh. Oops. It’s okay.” Millie says, a little muffled through the phone. “Fabes, I gotta go. We had a little milk spill.”
“Love you, Mills.”
On the other line, I hear Eloise giggling as she says, “It’s okay. Pepper’s cleaning it up...” before the call ends.
Suddenly exhausted, I curl my body into a ball, giving myself a few moments of stillness. The urge to quit creeps into the corners of my mind. Icould run—pack up Baby Blue right now and hit the road. Leave everything behind. Take the easy way out. Let my parents sell the A-frame and all the memories that live here.
I’m really good at giving up. An expert, even.
A distant knocking sounds from the door a few minutes later. I reluctantly lift my head, and through the front window, mygaze lands on a lopsided smile and a pair of irritatingly charming dimples.
Theo lifts a package of paper towels and a large box fan into view, and I groan.
What would Tessa do?
Apparently call the last person on earth I want help from.
Chapter 8
Theo
She glares at me through the glass, gorgeous hazel eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a flat line. Honey-blond wisps of hair have escaped the two buns behind her ears and curl at her cheeks. Her arms fold over the most adorable pair of light denim overalls, and her hip cocks to the side.
She looks ready to give me hell.
I’m here for it.
My smile hitches wider. “Tessa told me to bring supplies. Wanna let me in?”
“Not particularly,” she shouts.
“She thought you might say that.”
My attention drifts behind her to the hallway, where it appears wet towels are sitting in a heap, then to the couch, where a few books are spread out on the cushions, then to the haphazardly stacked boxes on the wall.
This looks like way more damage than what Tessa described.
Fable steps forward quickly, blocking my view, and opens the door a few inches. “Just leave it on the porch.”
“Excuse me. What happened to, ‘Hello, Theo, my knight in shining armor. Thank you for coming to my rescue!’?”
She gives me a bored stare and says in a monotone voice, “Hello, Theo, the scoundrel in ugly scrubs. I didn’t need rescuing. You can go now.”
Laughter bubbles out of me. “You don’t like my scrubs?” I set the fan down to turn in a circle. “These are my favorites. Admit it, they look pretty good, right?” Her expression hardens, almost like she’s fighting the urge to look down. Icould’ve sworn I saw her checking me out yesterday in the blue version of these. But when her eyes don’t budge, I change tactics. “Okay, I really am here to help. Ipromise I’ll behave.”
“You’ve never behaved a day in your life,” she responds, unimpressed.
