“It’s uh—appreciated,” I finish.
Her smile deepens just slightly. “I’m glad.”
Ivy elbows me.
“He’s flustered,” she stage-whispers.
“I’m not?—”
“You are,” she says, delighted. “Look at your face.”
“Ivy,” Sebastian says.
“Right. Work mode.” She claps her hands. “Okay, everyone! Let’s get this man settled before he has an existential crisis in the driveway.”
Too late. I’m already there.
“You picked a good place,” Violet says, glancing toward the house. “It looks really nice cleaned up.” Something flickers in her eyes. “I think you’re going to be very happy here.”
I stare at her.
There’s something about the way she says that.
Before I can respond, a loud truck engine rumbles down the road. The movers.
Saved by logistics.
“Perfect timing,” Ivy says, already marching toward the street like she’s in charge of the entire operation.
“Let’s go, people! We have chaos to create!”
Sebastian sighs and follows her.
That leaves Violet and me alone.
For a beat, it’s quiet.
She steps a little closer. “I’m really glad you got your own place.”
My pulse kicks up. “That makes one of us,” I mutter.
Her lips curve. “It’s a good decision. You’ll see.”
And the way she says it, it doesn’t sound like reassurance.
It sounds like a promise.
36
DREW
The movers are like a storm.
Boots on asphalt. Truck doors slamming. Voices overlapping as they haul furniture out like they’ve done this a thousand times.
I step back, somehow managing to be in the way in my own driveway.
“Where do you want the couch?” one of them calls.
