“It is two in the morning.”
“So why are you up?”
“You woke me up.”
“I have to talk to you.”
“No.”
“Linwood.”
She stares at me.
“Aspen.” I look at her. “Please. Five minutes.”
She shuts her eyes and breathes out through her nose. Then she opens the door.
“My roommates are asleep.”
I step inside.
She walks me to her bedroom. It’s dark except for the lamp by her bed. The Cup photo is on the desk, her father still roaring at the ceiling. I stand in the middle of the floor with my hands in my pockets. I don’t sit on the bed. I’ve got just enough sense left to know I haven’t earned the bed.
She closes the door and folds her arms.
“Talk,” she demands.
I run a hand through my hair because I genuinely don’t know what I came here to say. So I start with the safest true thing I’ve got.
“Gavin’s mouthing off.”
Her face changes. “About what?”
I press my lips together.
“Ermington.”
“I had to leave.”
She studies me for a long moment. “You came over here to tell me my ex is running his mouth at your house, and you didn’t feel like listening to it.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to handling it?”
I lean against the dresser because I’m too tired to keep standing in the middle of her floor.
“I am. This is me handling it.”
“This is you handling it,” she questions.
“Yes.”
“That’s not handling it. That’s relocating.”
“Think about it, princess. It’s a strategic relocation.”
She doesn’t take the moment to think. “Stanley. What was he saying?”
