And the way Roxie had walked into Talon’s apartment—exhausted, messy bun, crooked lanyard—and still somehow managed to knock the breath out of me.
I pulled into my apartment complex, parked, and climbed the stairs to my place. Inside, the dim light from the kitchen bulb washed over the counters. Quiet. Dark. Alone.
Usually the silence pressed in on me.
Tonight, it didn’t crush quite as hard.
I toed off my shoes and sank onto the couch.
Tonight hadn’t fixed anything. Everything was still a mess. My life was still one wrong move away from completely falling apart.
But I wasn’t facing it alone.
And somehow, that made all the difference.
CHAPTER 4
ROXIE
By the time I made it back to the apartment the next evening after my walk, my ponytail was frizzing, my leggings were sticking to my thighs, and I was replaying my run-in with Ledger like it was a crime scene and I was a detective assigned against my will.
Livvi was already in her pajamas, one of Talon’s oversized swim-team shirts swallowing her frame, when I stormed through the apartment door.
She blinked at me from the couch, half buried in a blanket mountain, brown hair in a messy topknot, laptop open on her knees, and a cup of tea on the end table.
“You’re back early,” she said. “And, uh, aggressively.”
I kicked the door shut behind me. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was I supposed to tiptoe in after being emotionally mauled?”
“A riveting opener.” She shut her laptop. “Go on.”
“Ledger.” I dropped my bag on the floor and began pacing. “He just—” I stopped, flailed my hands in the air, and continued. “He exists. Loudly. At me.”
A snort escaped her. “What did he do now?”
“What did he do?” I repeated, incredulous. “Try: accused me—again—of having the emotional range of a potted cactus.”
“To be fair,” Livvi said gently, “you do give off cactus energy sometimes. At least with him.”
“Unbelievable,” I muttered. “He called me someone who ‘would rather fight than communicate.’ Which—okay—fair. But also, rude.”
Livvi’s lips twitched. “Still not hearing the actual problem. This sounds like a typical interaction between you two.”
I flopped into the armchair dramatically. “The problem is that Ledger Hayes assumes he knows everything about me. He acts like I’m some kind of privileged brat with a trust fund I don’t deserve.”
Livvi blinked. “You … do have a trust fund.”
“Yes, but he doesn’t know under whatconditionsI can use it.”
“He knows you’re from money.”
“Which somehow means he thinks I coast through life! Like I’ve never had to work a day in it. Like I don’t pay my own rent. Like my job is just a fun little hobby while I sip matcha and twirl my hair.”
“You do twirl your hair sometimes,” she said quietly.
“LIVVI.”
She raised her hands. “I’m listening. Continue your villain monologue.”
