Was she cute? Yeah, she was undeniably gorgeous. But it was more than that.
Even looking weighed down from the trip and whatever was going on with her boyfriend, there’d been this adorable, bubbly excitement that seemed to burst from her with each movement and word spoken.
Even through the obvious exhaustion and pain in her turquoise eyes, there was something endearing about the way she studied everyone and everything around her. All wide innocence and eagerness.
And, okay, yeah . . . she was blonde. Sue me.
“Earth to Ariana,” Stevie said. When I looked up at her, she gave me a knowing smirk. “I’m going to assume she is blonde.”
“Why are we even talking about this?”
“Because you just zoned out over her, my friend,” she whispered.
“Didn’t,” I lied. “I already haven’t been looking forward to having a shadow at work, and now after this bullshit with her boyfriend? It’s going to be even worse if she’s moping over him. I don’t have time for that.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you were thinking about,” Stevie muttered, all disbelief.
“I told you she’s cute,” I said, dropping my voice to a whisper in case the couple decided to finally make an appearance. “But it doesn’t matter because she has a boyfriend. Not only that, but it is very obvious I wouldn’t be her type if she didn’t because I don’t have a dick. However, this shouldn’t even be a discussion because she lives here now.”
Stevie shook her head as if just remembering her dad’s rule about living here: No partners living with us. Her expression going from eager interest to reprimanding in an instant. “Roommates are off-limits.”
I held out a hand and gave her an exasperated look. “I said she was cute—nothing more. Did you somehow miss me explaining all the reasons why nothing would be happening?”
“Okay, obviously, I had a momentary lapse in sanity because I got excited for my best friend at the prospect of a new hookup.” When I just continued staring at her, she gave an exaggerated eye roll. “Don’t look at me like that. I keep forgetting about her being a roommate because I’ve never seen or talked to her.”
“You will eventually, and I’m sure you’ll like her—Hollis seemed to.”
“Hollis likes everyone; that’s so not a good example. She even likes Jenny,” she said, sneering her name.
“Well then, I’m sure you’ll like Kinsley for the simple fact that she doesn’t want to steal Russell from you.”
“You whore,” she breathed.
I made a face that was all faux shock, then went back to the few remaining dishes. Slowing to a stop when I caught sight of Stevie’s withdrawn expression. “You can’t run from what’s happening between you and Russell forever,” I whispered.
“Nothing is happening,” she said just as softly, her tone all warning.
“Stevie, it’s okay to let yourself love him.” I stepped closer to her, holding her hardened stare.
I’d had an idea of how Stevie felt for Russell when they hadn’t left her room for days at a time. It’d been confirmed when he’d kept coming back for over a year since Stevie usually moved on from guys as fast as they fell into each other’s beds.
But when I love you had slipped from her one night, she’d shut down and shut him out until recently. Still, she kept so many boundaries, and he was a saint for respecting them all with a genuine smile. Knowing exactly what she needed and never pushing her for more.
“You’re not your mom,” I said gently. “And Russell’s a great guy; he won’t do to you what your mom did.”
“Nothing is happening,” she repeated between clenched teeth. “He’s fun and convenient and really good in bed—that’s it. It’s you and me forever.”
“Always,” I said, holding out my pinky until she hooked hers around it.
But even though I’d kept my vow to Stevie from all those years ago, I couldn’t say my lifestyle was only because we’d promised not to let anyone get close enough to touch our hearts. Until today, it had always just felt natural to keep everyone at arm’s length.
Now a girl with impossibly blue eyes had entered my life, and for whatever reason, she had the ability to stir up emotions and cravings I’d never experienced or even wanted for myself.
Still, I’d made that promise, and I would keep it so long as Stevie did. I refused to be the one who broke first when it came to anything she needed from me.
I was finishing putting dinner in serving bowls a handful of hours later when the sound of the front door shutting filled the front part of the house.
“Dinner’s ready,” I called out, my stare snapping up when I heard a stuttered inhale. I tensed, my nearly empty pot and spatula suspended in the air when I realized Kinsley was alone and her face was streaked with tears. “Or not.”
“Oh, um . . .” Her head shook quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t . . . I’m not sure I’m actually hungry.”
“Yeah, that’s all right,” I said. “But you didn’t eat lunch either.”
Her eyebrows drew close as if she hadn’t realized until that moment.
Once Kinsley, her boyfriend, and I had gotten everything into her room that afternoon, I’d hurried to leave with the promise of lunch. Anything to get away from the obvious fight brewing between the two of them.
The instant I’d made it out of the room, their angry and pleading words had begun, so I’d left them alone until about fifteen minutes ago when I’d knocked on the door and told them dinner would be ready soon.
Almost as soon as I’d made it back into the kitchen, they’d come downstairs and gone outside.
Except, she was now alone.
“Is Boyfriend coming back in?” I asked hesitantly.
“No,” she said on a strained breath, her head slanting. “I’m sorry you’ve wasted so much food because of us.”
I used the spatula to gesture to the fridge behind me. “I like leftovers.”
Her head bobbed for a while before she gave me an apologetic smile. “Okay, well . . . all right.”
I watched as she started for the long hallway that led to the den and then the stairs, seeming to curl in on herself as she did, then looked back at the cluttered counter in front of me. After only a moment of consideration, I filled up two bowls and put the rest of the food in the fridge, leaving the dishes for later.
Once I was upstairs, I cradled the bowls in one arm and knocked on Kinsley’s door. Trying like hell to ignore the nervous excitement building and spreading through my veins and telling myself over and over again that she was a roommate.
Nothing more.
“Oh, sorry,” she said when she answered. “I’m not hungry.” Her tone was all apologies as if she maybe hadn’t been direct enough before and was afraid of hurting my feelings, but I just nodded.
“Yeah, I heard you. But I know from experience how draining all this is,” I said, looking pointedly at the remnants of her tears. “And I know just how hungry it can leave you. I mean, I don’t know, but my sister . . . she’s a really emotional person. She used to always raid the fridge in the middle of the night after she’d spent all day or night crying. Eventually, I started bringing food to her during, and we’d talk while she cried.”