I stare at the red light ahead as the car comes to a stop. “I was given two months’ notice. I’ve been looking for a new place, but I can’t afford anything in this market. The prices have gone up so much that even a studio in the cruddiest neighborhood isn’t affordable on my salary.”
“You can’t leave.”
“I also can’t afford to live here, so I’m doing what I have to. That means leaving.”
He grips the steering wheel tighter, and his jaw ticks. Finally, he looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “You’ve kind of become a habit.”
“Yeah, a regular fixture like a lamp.”
He whips his head my way. “What? No. Not like a lamp. Not like that at all.” My face flushes when he looks away again. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Everyone has so much going on in their lives. Cammie and Cade are planning their wedding. Jackson got a promotion. Marlow . . . well, Marlow is Marlow. And you’re always so busy. I didn’t want to burden you guys with my problems.”
“You’re the least burdensome person I know. You can always talk to me.” He looks at me, and we exchange a grin.
“Trust me, it wasn’t my first choice, but I don’t have any other options, Rad. It’s move back to Austin or sleep in a box outside the bakery. And while I have an unhealthy addiction to chocolate croissants, I think I’d prefer a bed and roof.”
A storm creeps over his features as he pilots us in and out of a line of traffic.
“I’ll miss you guys,” I say. “I’ll miss teasing you about your awards, our weekly dinners with the gang, and the seasons actually changing, unlike in Texas.” Fidgeting with the strap of my bag, I continue, “Cammie’s wedding drama and Marlow’s life drama.” I laugh, hoping it blocks the lump settling in my throat. “But we’ll figure it out. Right?”
He doesn’t say anything and just concentrates on the road.
Anxiety begins to bubble in my stomach as the realization that this is one of the last times I’ll see Rad and one of the last days of life as I know it. “I’ll be fine,” I say, trying to talk myself out of panicking. “I just worry about my clients. I hope someone takes their cases that loves them like I do and—Rad!”
I slam forward against my seat belt as the car stops on a dime.
Rad twists in his seat to face me. “Move in with me.” The on-the-fly offer feels too spontaneous in the moment, but when he starts driving again, he leaves it out there to linger between us.
“What are you talking about, Rad?”
He doesn’t pause to second-guess his decision. Instead, he says, “I have an extra room for when my mom comes into the city. She only stays overnight a few times a year.”
My head spins as I try to absorb what he’s saying.
Move in with him? With Rad?
There are so many things to say, to ask, to think about, but all I can focus on is logistics. “Where will she stay if I’m there?” I ask.
“She can sleep in my room, and I’ll take the couch. It’s not an issue. I work a lot of late nights—”
“Too many.”
“You work a lot, sometimes on the weekend. We’d hardly see each other.”
“Are you being for real right now? This isn’t a joke, right?”
He chuckles. “It’s not a joke. It’s a real offer.”
His sincerity is overwhelming. He means it.
I force a swallow.
“If you’re being serious . . .” I swallow again. “If I did this, it would be temporary, obviously. I would look every day for something affordable and would move out as soon as I can.”
“There would be no rush.”
Not what I was expecting.
I look out the window. Could this work out? Could I live with Rad? The mere thought gives me chills . . . and hope. “It could be fun, right?” I ask, our eyes meeting when he stops at the corner of his street. That gleam that shone on his watch reaches his eyes even though no signs are reflected this time. Earnestness softens that pesky, and sexy, line between his brows.
The architecture changes in this part of the city, mingling old with new so seamlessly. Potted trees with fairy lights anchor the entrances to prewar buildings with doormen in uniforms under each awning ready to perform.
I can imagine what the rest of our friends will say when—if—Rad tells them he offered to let me stay with him. They’d go berserk if I turn him down and throw out a million reasons for why this is a perfect solution. They’ll beg me to stay. Especially Marlow.
We probably won’t see each other much with his schedule and social calendar and my late nights and emergency weekend appointments.
It could work.
Maybe.
I’m suddenly realizing that I don’t want to be responsible for breaking up the group. Those five people have my back. It’s only a temporary solution, but one that keeps me near these people I care about so much.
I study him, searching his eyes for a truth he can’t hide. To my relief, I can’t find a lie. “Are you sure?”
He nods before easing off the brake. “Positive.” He taps the steering wheel momentarily. “You still have your job, right?”
“Yes. I considered transferring.”
“Then stay. With me.”
Though I’m not sure this is the right thing to do, I take a deep breath and take the chance. “Then it’s a yes from me, but I promise not to overstay my welcome. This will give me more time to find a new place to live instead of moving back in with my family.”
A smile splits his cheeks. “I can’t believe you considered moving back to Texas. You know we’d help you however we could.”
“I know,” I reply with a heavy sigh. “It’s just . . . I’m the one who helps others in need. I don’t want to put my problems on you guys.”
“You’d rather leave us?”
“No. I’d rather stay. Texas was a last resort.” I smile and look out the window. “I can’t imagine leaving the city. It’s become a part of my identity.” Touching his arm, I add, “I want you to know that I’ll pay you rent.”
“We can worry about the details later.”
Maybe he can worry about the details another time, but my money is accounted for down to the penny. Spying his modern and incredible building ahead, I know it’s a conversation we need to have sooner than later. I’m thinking half the rent of his apartment is going to mean selling some things and dipping into my savings. “Or tonight.”
“After dinner?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth rising with it.
“Deal.”
“Just one question.”
“Okay.” I grin, and say, “Shoot.”
He slows the car on approach to the luxury residence. “When do you need to move in?”
“Friday. Is that too soon?”
Smirking, he shifts gears. “Perfect timing.”
4
Rad
“You must love living here,” Tealey says.
Pulling into the underground garage of the streamlined, modern structure reminds me of how far it had come. It was formerly a dilapidated, bordering on condemned, four-story building that housed a tailor on the top floor, a pillow manufacturer on the third, a law firm on the second, and a deli on the first, dating back to 1921.