“Xander—” I begin, but he cuts me off with a stern look.
“This guy is dangerous. I need to make sure Chiara is safe. You can either come with me or wait here.”
“Fine,” I relent, albeit reluctantly, moving to the passenger side and signaling for Chiara to slide over on the bench seat.
The drive is silent, the air thick with tension.
“He’s probably home, but he’s usually asleep in the mornings,” Chiara informs us when Xander parks the truck in front of the apartment building.
We exit the truck, and Xander collects three laundry baskets from the back. I recognize the one I collected my things in to move to Sophia’s yesterday, and my heart sinks. I wonder how Xander feels, considering his shocked and hurt expression when I told him that Clay unintentionally shared his feelings for Carolina. But now isn’t the time to discuss Clay.
We head to the apartment, and my unease grows as we enter. The place looks so worn out. It’s crazy that they still live here. It is clean, though. Someone—probably my girl—tried to make it feel homey, but there’s only so much one can do.
We tread lightly, following Chiara into a room. It’s small, with just one bed in the middle, and I look at Xander, who grimaces.
Chiara goes to the only chest of drawers and begins piling clothes in her basket. Once the bottom three drawers are empty, she moves to the bedside table. She adds shoes, jackets, and school items to her pile.
“Where’s Carolina’s stuff?” I whisper.
She points to the top drawer. I pull it open and look inside and am immediately puzzled. “Where’s the rest?”
“She has some makeup in the bathroom, and here’s her laptop and college stuff, but that’s about it,” she whispers, continuing to load her basket.
I remove a hoodie, two Henleys, two black T-shirts, and a pair of black jeans from the drawer. Then, I take out a few socks, panties, and a bra—all in black. A pair of black leggings and a scarf follow. That’s all that was in the drawer. It doesn’t even fill a third of the basket.
This just isn’t right. Carolina deserves so much more. All the beautiful things. Not just a few basic items that look nearly worn out. There isn’t even a set of pajamas. Or fuzzy socks.
Girls love fuzzy socks, right?
“Let me get that,” Xander offers, and his frown deepens as he takes the college stuff Chiara points out and puts it on top of the clothes in my basket.
“Okay, that’s everything here. Bathroom next,” Chiara declares, and we follow her but stop in the bathroom doorway. It’s so small that there’s no way all of us can fit inside.
Chiara hands the full basket to Xander and takes his empty one to fill with her toiletries. She has a few shampoo bottles and some makeup, which she handles more carefully than she does her clothes.
Then she hands me a shampoo bottle and maybe three makeup items. I look at the shampoo and note that it is apple-scented.
“That’s all?” I ask, comparing her modest collection to Carolina’s meager four items.
Chiara nods. “She’s not really into makeup.”
While scrunching my nose, I frown at her. I bet that’s not true. I remember the pretty dark lip shade she wore a few times, the tube of which I am holding right now, and think how I wish I could kiss those full lips again. To clear my head, I give it a quick shake. Not the time or place.
Fuck, I miss her.
“Let’s take this to the truck and bring up the groceries,” Xander grunts out.
“You already got some?” I ask.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs.
Good to know that I am not the only one.
We do as he suggested and stow the groceries in the refrigerator and cupboards. I place a hundred dollars on the kitchen counter, and Chiara gives me a startled look.
“What? I don’t plan on coming here every day to give him money,” I hiss out.
“With that much money, he’ll drink himself to death,” she whispers.
