Wade’s lips purse together as he studies me. “Okay, let me know when you’re ready to talk about it.”
Holding my hands up, I attempt a bubbly tone. “There’s not much to it. Really.”
Shaking his head, he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and gives me one last pointed stare. “I’m going to take a shower. Then I’ll make us some dinner. Maybe you’ll feel more like talking then.”
With that, he disappears into his—my—bedroom, but he doesn’t shut the door. I open my laptop, intending to lose myself in tweaking my presentation, which doesn’t require more fine-tuning; it’s ready. But I need to make sure I am.
I catch glimpses of Wade in my peripheral vision as he grabs clothing from his side of the dresser and the closet before disappearing into the bathroom. He closes the door, and somehow, it feels personal, as if he’s closing himself off from me.
We’ve never put up walls between us before. Not really.
And I know Wade. He wouldn’t do that. I shake my head at myself for reading more into a simple need for privacy. With Chase, that became my way to survive—to read the room and anticipate his unpredictable moods.
But with Wade, I know I’m safe. He’s always looked out for me, even when he didn’t have to. And what did I do? I quit returning his texts and calls because I was afraid—knew deep down—he wouldn’t approve of me dating Chase Langston.
The thing is, if I’d known then what I know now, I would have agreed with him.
Like I said, I’m an idiot for allowing myself to believe Chase wanted me for me, not what I could do for him.
I just wish I’d figured that out much sooner than I did.
Chapter Five
WADE
Bree used to tell me everything—sometimes too much. Like word vomit on steroids.
The worst one was in middle school when she got her first period, and she decided to talk tomeabout it. My sisters hadn’t reached that milestone yet, so I understood why she wanted to tell her best friend about a major event in her life. Despite my discomfort when she shared her in-depth study of pads and tampons, I put on my game face and tried not to show how squeamish the whole thing made me feel.
As much as I didn’t want to know the details, part of me felt honored that she wanted to confide something so personal in me. That’s what best friends do for each other, right?
But this time?
She’s hiding something. Piper or Ellie might know more about it…maybe. I could call one of them, or both, if Bree doesn’t open up. Unless she starts talking to me, there’s not much I can do to help her. It’s killing me that I can’t figure this out and fix it for her.
I finish getting dressed, careful to leave the bathroom in decent shape before I return to the main living area. Bree’ssitting in front of her laptop at the dining room table with one leg folded underneath her. She’s wearing a cream shorts set dotted with pink roses. The fabric looks soft, touchable, like her skin. The glow of the screen reflects off her glasses, which I’ve never seen her wear before. That and the concentration on her face make her look intellectual and sexy all at once.
Closing my eyes, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Those kinds of thoughts will only make this arrangement impossible. Good thing she didn’t notice me studying her with entirely too much interest, or else I’d have to scramble for some lame excuse that borders on a lie.
After a quick mental shake, I pause between the table and the kitchen island. “Hungry?”
She pushes her glasses up on top of her head, which only makes me want to gawk at her again. Who knew I had a thing for the hot librarian look?
“Famished. Did you learn to cook?” She eyes me with a hefty dose of skepticism.
“I’ve always known how to cook.” I point to the glasses. “Those new?”
She looks confused at first, then touches her head. “Oh, those. They’re for doing work on my computer. Helps with eyestrain.”
A streak of mischief hits me. “Reminds me of Nana.”
With a harrumph, she grabs the pepper shaker off the table and tosses it at me.
Of course, I catch it with ease—I’m a goalie. I get paid to snatch small, hurtling objects out of the air. “Nice try.”
She rolls her eyes. “I should have known better.”
I set the shaker down, then open the fridge. “Do you like salmon? I can grill it and add a fresh salad.”
