I strip down to my panties. It’s a risk in a house with so many guys, but I don’t exactly have much to change into. I think about asking Declan for a shirt, but I can’t bring myself to do it. He’s done enough.
I'm too tired to worry about my pajamas. I definitely have bigger things to stress about. I pull the blanket up, stare at the ceiling, and listen for any sound from down the hall, but there's nothing. Declan's door stays closed.
Back. I’m back. Any distance I created is gone.
And I don’t know what to do. I have zero options. I hate being dependent on anyone. If not for Declan being a big enough person to come rescue me, I’d be in my car.
And I don’t know what to do with that.
Chapter Two
DECLAN
Iwake up knowing she's here.
That's the first thought I have before I'm even fully conscious, before I even open my eyes. It’s strange because I sense her as if her aura bleeds through the walls. I feel her.
Crew's music starts pounding through the wall at a volume no one should have to tolerate before eight in the morning. He knows better, but he doesn’t give a shit. He knows we all have to be up anyway.
Sutton is twenty feet away.
I lie there and stare at the ceiling and let that fact just sit with me for a minute. I honestly didn’t expect to be under the same roof with her again. I had just started coming to terms with the fact that our relationship was over.
And now she’s here.
But she’s not here with me. She doesn’t want to be here. She definitely doesn’t want anything to do with me. It’s sheer desperation.
I don't know what I expected. Some kind of clarity in the morning, maybe. Some clean emotional distance that the night would have built between last night and right now.
Instead, I feel exactly the same as I did when I closed my door and stood on the other side of it listening for any sound next door.
I don’t know what I was hoping for. She asked to talk, and I shut her down. That was probably a little petty. I got to walk away from her after she shut me down one too many times.
I should have offered her support. A shirt. Water. Something. But if I showed her any kindness, it made it something more than it was. I was helping out a fellow human—nothing more, nothing less.
That’s how I needed to keep it. I couldn’t let myself believe there could be anything more than that. It would hurt too much.
Crew's playlist shifts to something with too much bass. Old school Dr. Dre. That’s his pump-up music. Means he’s trying to psyche himself up for something. With Crew, that may be as simple as putting on his shoes or preparing for a big test.
I’m not going to hide. I have to face the day with her in it.
I get up.
I tell myself it's a normal morning. If she’s still here, whatever. I don’t have to talk to her. She’ll be gone soon enough.
She's at the counter. Coffee in hand, hair still slightly damp from a shower, wearing leggings and an oversized Avalon Hockey sweatshirt. She's got her phone in her hand, and she's saying something to Ashton, who's leaning against the opposite counter with his own coffee, looking like he slept just fine.
I hate him a little.
The scene stops me for just a second. For one brief second, I almost fool myself into believing the last couple of weeks were nothing more than a bad dream. She never moved out. She never broke up with me.
"Morning," I say.
"Hey," Ashton says.
Sutton looks up. Our eyes meet for approximately three seconds before she looks back at her phone. I go to the cabinet for a mug.
It's fine. This is fine.
