“Don’t let it go to your head,” I say dryly. “That’s just what I’ve heard from yourmanyexes.”
Cade hums, a low sound that vibrates somewhere in my chest whether I want it to or not, and leans back again as David and Mom start talking about some charity gala next month.
…
After the main course, I nurse a single glass of red wine instead of another coffee. The last thing I need is caffeine buzzing through my veins at this hour, but I also have no intention of letting the bottle loosen my tongue too much.
David clears his throat, setting his own glass down. “Rowan, Cade has something he’d like to ask you.”
I look at my stepbrother, brows already pulling together. I dab my mouth politely with the napkin, buying half a second before I have to deal with whatever this is.
Cade’s lips curve into the smallest, most self-satisfied grin. “I’m moving in, brother.”
I roll my eyes hard, hating the way he drags that word out like it’s supposed to mean something warm. “Moving in where?”
David jumps in with a hopeful smile that doesn’t quite hide his nerves. “With you.”
I freeze, gaze flicking between the three of them. A disbelieving laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “No.”
Mom sighs softly, reaching toward me like she can smooth this over with maternal patience. “Sweetheart, his own place needs renovations. It won’t be for long.”
Exasperation burns hot in my chest. “Why can’t he stay with you two?”
“We offered,” David says, spreading his hands, “but… he doesn’t want to.”
I turn sharply to Cade, who’s been letting David do all the talking. “I have a one-bedroom apartment, Cade. Don’t be ridiculous. You can stay with them.”
Cade licks his lips slowly, dark eyes steady on mine. “Too late.”
“What do you mean ‘too late’?”
He doesn’t answer with words, of course he doesn’t. He simply unlocks his phone, taps the screen a couple of times, and turns it toward me. A text from the moving company stares back:Your belongings are waiting securely outside the apartment.
My stomach drops. I pale as I stand, disbelief coursing through me. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
Cade lets out a rare, low, deep laugh that curls through the air like smoke.
I slap a few hundred-dollar bills on the table, more than enough to cover the whole meal, and walk out without another word. This has to be a joke; it has to be.
The elevator ride down feels endless. My breathing is too fast and shallow. I don’t want this. I chose a one-bedroomspecificallyso no one could invade my space. Sure, it’s spacious, and the couch is long enough for Cade’s tall frame, but that’s not the point. The point is Ilikemy solitude and privacy; I earned it.
When the doors finally open onto the parking garage, I stride straight to my Jeep, unlock it with a sharp beep, and climb in. The engine rumbles to life under my hands. I’m going home right now to make sure this isn’t some sick prank.
Chapter Two
Cade
I ease my Porsche into the underground parking garage of Rowan’s building, the low growl of the engine echoing off concrete walls. This isn’t the kind of place just anyone can live. You need serious money and even more connections to secure an apartment here. I get why Rowan chose a one-bedroom; he’s always been territorial about his space. Even as teenagers, he hated when anyone stepped foot inside his room. Door locked, signs up, the whole paranoid routine.
Me? I used to love winding him up without saying a word. Just slipping in when he wasn’t home, moving one of his carefully arranged things an inch to the left, or borrowing a hoodie, so he’d know I’d been there. The silent invasion, the quiet proof that his precious boundaries meant nothing to me.
I kill the engine, pocket my phone, and tuck my wallet into the back of my black jeans. Two clicks of the fob lock the car behind me with a satisfying chirp.
The elevator code is already in my phone, Dad gave it to me, along with instructions for the movers. I punch it in, step inside the mirrored car, and hit the button for the nineteenth floor.
…
When the doors slide open, I immediately notice there are only two apartments on this level. God knows who lives in the other one; I don’t care. My focus narrows the second I see Rowan’s door standing wide open, his voice drifting out, muttering to himself in that frustrated tone I’ve always found oddly satisfying. My boxes are stacked neatly in the hallway like a barricade around his entrance.
