“You’re staying at my place,” he deadpans.
“I don’t need all this for one night, David.” I gesture to the pile he’s laid out on my bed.
He stops short. “One night?” He shakes his head. “Beth, you’re staying with me indefinitely.”
I frown at him. “I can’t do that.”
He takes a step forward until I have to crane my neck just to meet his gaze. “Well I can’t leave you alone here, with him free, having full access to the building you live in.”
I swallow audibly at the implication.
“So you can either come stay with me, in my nice, big apartment, with plenty of room for the both of us, or I can stay here, sleep on the floor, and wait for Lani to take advantage of me while I sleep.” His lip twitches and I huff out a short laugh.
But the fact is, he’s right. I don’t know if Brody’s intention tonight was really just to talk or something more nefarious, but I do know I can’t be putting myself in the position to find out every time I come home from fucking class.
“Just until he’s arrested for real, okay?” David placates.
I nod. “Yeah, okay.”
Chapter Nine
David
Beth looks around my place as if she’s seeing it for the first time. She’s been here a few times since school started, of course, but she never had to consider it as her home. Her temporary home, anyway.
I grab the towel I carelessly left on the floor just outside the bathroom, and toss it into the hamper just as Beth steps into the living room. I knock the empty Gatorade bottles from the kitchen counter into the trash, and place this morning’s cereal bowl into the sink. If I knew I’d be bringing her back here, I’d have straightened up. It’s not like I’m a slob, but I’m a single twenty-year-old guy who lives alone, and one thing I’ve never been accused of is being a neat freak. I make a mental note to make more of an effort. My mother is the only chick I’ve ever lived with, and what can I say? She always picked up after me.
But I’ve shared a space with Beth before, so it shouldn’t be too weird. Of course, we were younger then. Vacations where the parents would throw us kids all together in our own room so they could screw in peace.
“Well?” I ask, waiting for her verdict on my place. I’ve only just moved in a matter of weeks ago and the apartment is pretty basic. One bedroom, one bathroom, a living room adjacent to an open kitchen full of rarely used appliances, and a small breakfast area. It’s furnished exactly how you’d expect a single male student to furnish an apartment—in boring black leather and glass, and not a single thing that can be referred to as decor.
As Beth runs her delicate fingers over the black leather of my new sofa, I’m glad I haven’t brought any girls here. When it comes to hooking up, I’ve always avoided bringing anyone home—easier to make a quick getaway at their place—but as Beth’s skin touches the soft fabric, I know it would have been wrong to let her come into contact with a couch I fucked some one-night stand on. I cringe at the thought. She is better than that. She is better than everything.
She is better than me.
“It’s…nice,” she murmurs.
I bark out a laugh. “Nice? You think?” I goad her. She’s so full of shit.
Beth reluctantly smiles. “Well you haven’t exactly put much thought into the design, have you.” It isn’t a question.
I quirk an eyebrow.
“No, you wouldn’t.” She answers her own non-question. “I could help if you want.”
“Help?”
“Yeah. You know. A few throw pillows, some picture frames…It wouldn’t take much to make it look less like a…”
“A…”
She shrugs. “Well, a temporary CIA safe house, or some other place no one actually means to live in.”
I burst into laughter and Beth grins. She’s right, of course. That’s exactly what the place looks like. But that’s what it is. A temporary lodging, not a home. I’ll be here for one school year—two at the most. But if Beth wants some throw pillows, then I’ll buy some fucking throw pillows. Whatever makes her feel comfortable at my place. She could be here for a couple of nights, or for the rest of the year for all I know. Because if Brody stays free, then Beth stays with me. No way will I let him get his dirty, depraved fucking hands on her.
She runs her palms over the seat cushions. “Do you have extra sheets? A blanket? So I can make it up?” She nods down at the sofa.
“I’ll do that,” I tell her. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, kid.” I start to lead her to the kitchen, but she doesn’t move.
