by Jill Shalvis
Mini was sleeping in yet another dog bed at the top of the stairs. The sweet dog lifted a sleepy head and gave her a smile, and Brynn choked out a laugh. Someone had hung a small sign around her neck that said:
Zero days since the last toilet paper massacre.
“You’re my favorite roommate,” she whispered, and hugged her before heading down the stairs and into the kitchen. She hadn’t had a chance to go food shopping for herself yet, but Eli had said to make herself at home. She’d just take a peek and see if there was anything she could snack on and replace tomorrow. But the view out the window had her stepping out onto the back porch. Staring up at a gorgeous full moon high above the water, she sank into the porch swing in the far corner to take it all in. She was still there a few minutes later when she heard voices.
Eli and Max.
They were coming up the back porch steps wearing wet suits, leaning their surfboards against the house at the bottom of the stairs.
They’d been surfing in the dark. At midnight, by moonlight. She didn’t know if that was the coolest thing she’d ever heard of, or the most stupidly dangerous.
The guys unzipped their wet suits and peeled them down to their lean hips, and she quickly sat up to make herself known, but Max spoke first. “She’s cute.”
Eli just slid him a look.
“What? She is. And I know you know it because I caught you looking at her ass.”
Eli reached into a cooler. He cracked open a bottle of water, drank for a long moment, and then said, “I just remembered you owe me that favor from when I got you the job at the marina. You said it could be anything.”
“That was a year ago.”
“Well, I’ve finally decided. You’re going to clean out the garage this weekend and make room for our new renter to park in it.”
Max grinned.
“What?”
“Man, it’s been a long time since you resorted to dickhead threats to change the subject. Just admit it, you’ve got a thing for her.”
Brynn stilled. Well, everything except her good parts. Those tingled. Eli couldn’t possibly have a thing for her. If he had, it would’ve happened after their long-ago kiss. Or any of the summers after that, until he’d stopped going to camp. Or even the other day at the hospital.
When you’d pretended not to remember him . . .
She sighed silently. She was such an idiot, compounding her errors. Because she should’ve made herself known the minute they’d appeared on the porch, but now it was too late. So she sat very still and hoped they didn’t say anything else she couldn’t unhear.
“You going to do anything about it?” Max asked. “Or are you going to tell me I’m full of shit, that you feel nothing, the same nothing you’ve been feeling for way too long? And you need to be careful here, bro, because if you say that, it means she’s up for grabs. Think she likes younger guys?”
“Try anything on her and no one will ever find your body.”
Max grinned. “See, I knew it. You do still like her.” He leaned forward to catch Eli’s response.
Brynn leaned forward too. Because . . . still?
Eli pressed a finger to an eye, like maybe it was twitching. “She’s not here for that,” he said. “I think she’s been hurt. She’s . . . trying to heal.”
Brynn froze, shocked to realize she’d broadcasted that with body language alone.
Max lost both his smile and teasing tone. “Do we need to go teach some guy his manners?”
“Only if she wants us to,” Eli said, and Brynn felt something warm inside her, in a place where she’d shoved deep the things that made her cold and scared.
“I see you, you know,” Max said.
Brynn froze, feeling her face flush. She’d been found out, and she opened her mouth to apologize, but Max spoke again.
“I know you’re still struggling with your grandma’s death.”
Brynn blinked, because he was talking to Eli, not her.
Without a word, Eli set his water aside and went back to the cooler for a beer.
He’d lost a grandparent, one he’d clearly been very close to. Brynn knew what that felt like; it was an actual hole in your life. Not having ever had a dad, she’d always been aware of what she was missing, the grief of it. But since she was lucky enough to have two moms, she’d kept that grief to herself.
But that didn’t make the feeling go away.
“I’m okay,” Eli said.
“You spent a lot of time with her, from age ten on,” Max said. “She left a void.”
“Of course she did. She was my only parent after Dad . . .”
“Boned the babysitter?” Max’s voice was dry and sounded much older than he was. “You don’t have to dance around that for me. My mom was never shy about how she stole him from your mom. I was always jealous as hell that you got to go live with your grandma. She sent you to that great summer camp for a bunch of years.”
Eli smiled. “She did.”
“Did you ever hear back from your mom on what she’s going to do with your grandma’s ashes?”
The soft snort from Eli didn’t sound like amusement. “No. I called the funeral home, but unless she gets back to them, aka pays for their services, Grandma will end up in a grave where all the unclaimed remains go.”
“Not what she wanted.”
“No, she wanted to be buried, not cremated, with a proper funeral,” Eli said. “And blessed by her priest before being laid to rest next to her husband. But Mom did the cremation without a care for any of that. Now the best I can do is get the funeral home to hold off on the unmarked grave until I can get the paperwork for the right to make the decisions.”
“And how are you going to get the paperwork?”
“I don’t know,” Eli said. “I was counting on at least one of my parents calling me back so I could try to talk them into letting me do the right thing.”
Max shook his head. “You’re going to offer to pay for everything, aren’t you?”
Eli took a long pull on his beer.
“That’s such bullshit, man. You already mortgaged the house for her long-term care and medical bills.”
“This isn’t about me.”
“No, but it should be. Seriously, you’re the most stubborn person on the planet.”
Eli shrugged. Apparently he already knew that.
Max sighed. “I heard your mom was in Singapore,” he said quietly.
Eli looked at him in surprise. “What’s she doing there?”
“She bought a house there.” Max turned a disbelieving look on Eli. “She really didn’t tell you?” He paused and shook his head with obvious disgust. “Of course she didn’t. The only reason I even know is because my mom found out.”
“She still stalking her via Instagram and Snapchat?”
It was Max’s turn to snort. “Yeah, and has ever since she was that eighteen-year-old babysitter screwing her paycheck. She’d cooled it for a while, but someone called her the trophy wife a few weeks ago and it sort of renewed her obsession.”
Brynn felt a tug at her heart at the expression on Eli’s face, which she could only see in profile. Hurt. Angry.
“I’m sorry,” Max said. “You deserve better.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Dude, it fucking matters, okay? It was your birthday last week and neither of them even called you. Now you’re just trying to give your grandma the burial she wanted. It’s not rocket science. Our parents, all of them, suck ass.”
Brynn realized she was rubbing a hand across her chest, aching, feeling a connection to Eli that she hadn’t expected. She couldn’t imagine either of her moms ghosting her. Or avoiding her at all, for any reason. And if one of them were to die—even the thought hurt madly—the other would do whatever her wife had wanted, no matter what. So it was incredible to Brynn that Eli was burdened with this. Fighting his mom to give his grandma the burial she’d wanted.
Max stirred. “I’m going to bed, man, and you should do the same.�
��
“Yeah.”
They both began to—oh, shit—peel their wet suits the rest of the way off right there on the porch. Brynn had long ago lost her moment to announce herself, and she knew it, but . . .
Good.
Lord.
They weren’t wearing anything beneath. Their backs were to her and she knew it was wrong, but her feet wouldn’t move and her eyes couldn’t seem to help themselves.
Eli had the best butt on the entire planet.
And then he turned around and, sweet baby Jesus, even in the chilly night he was impressive.
At that very moment, Mini pushed her way out the screen door, looking sweet and sleepy, tail going a mile a minute, happy to see her guys.
But she didn’t go to her guys, because Brynn’s luck didn’t run that way. Nope. The big yellow lab headed right for Brynn on the porch swing, letting out a welcoming snort.
Shaking her head, she held out her hands, trying to ward the dog off.
But Mini didn’t have any sense of boundaries. She snorted again right before she jumped onto her lap.
Brynn gasped and automatically wrapped her arms around the dog to keep them both from tipping off the porch swing.
And failed.
“What the hell?” Eli said, just as Brynn and Mini landed on the floor in a tangle of limbs.
Someone hit the porch light. Eyes trying to adjust to the sudden glare, Brynn blinked like an owl.
Or a peeping Tom.
Mini helpfully licked her face.
Finally, Brynn managed to crane her neck out of licking range, and from flat on her back, looked up at two naked men.
“I think we made her speechless,” Max said, and grabbed the two towels slung over the railing.
Eli held out his hand for one of them, but Max flashed a grin and, still holding both towels, walked into the house, passing right by Brynn to do so.
“Nice,” Eli said sarcastically to his brother’s ass, but just shook his head and turned to Brynn. “Remember to tell Mini ‘down,’” he reminded her, offering her a hand up.
She took it, sucking in a breath at the odd bombardment of sensations. His hand was warm and slightly rough with calluses. As for the rest of him, she did her best not to look.
Much.
As soon as she was upright, their gazes met for a single beat, during which he gave her a look she couldn’t quite interpret before he turned away. “Mini, come.”
And then man and dog followed after Max, into the house.
With a grimace, Brynn headed in as well. Mini turned three circles in her huge dog bed and plopped down with a groan, closing her eyes. In two seconds she was snoring at shocking decibels.
Max was leaning against the kitchen counter, covered by one of the towels, sipping a beer. Eli snatched the other and wrapped it around himself. It was a Day-Glo pink and read, I’M HOT, all in bright-white letters. He should’ve looked ridiculous.
He did not.
“Beer?” Max asked her.
“No, thank you.” She was trying not to stare at Eli, she really was. But he had a drop of water on his collar bone, slowly sliding down his pec and heading south, south, south, past his abs and still moving. It was absorbed by the towel sitting low on his hips, and good God, she was still staring, so she jerked her eyes up to the ceiling.
Her first reaction had been decidedly female. Her second reaction, right on its heels, was different, and all amusement fled. Because the last time she’d had a naked roommate, he’d ended up robbing her blind. She cleared her throat. “First of all, I’m really sorry,” she managed. “I know I should’ve told you I was there. And second”—she looked at them both—“I’m wondering if it’s okay if we make a roommate rule.”
Max stopped with his beer halfway to his mouth and looked at her. “Roommate rule?”
“Such as ‘eavesdropping is rude’?” Eli asked mildly.
Brynn blushed. “Yes. Absolutely, yes. But also . . . maybe something about roommates walking around naked and stuff.”
“Good idea,” Max said. “How about if one of us is naked, we should all be naked.” He laughed, clearly amused by himself.
Eli didn’t laugh. He frowned at his brother. “Max.”
Max looked at Brynn’s face, and his own smile faded. “Sorry. I’m just kidding. I wouldn’t—”
“Go to bed, Max,” Eli said.
Max looked at Brynn again, all teasing and joking gone. “Sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She thought maybe she managed a reassuring smile before he tossed his beer into the trash and ambled off down the hall, but she wasn’t sure. She was still somewhat frozen in place. It’d been wrong of her, very wrong, to stay on the porch like she had. All of it—hearing a conversation she shouldn’t have, seeing them strip out of their wet suits—that was all on her, and she felt awful about it. But she hadn’t felt . . . uncomfortable until right now, because they hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d given them the wrong idea.
Eli had set down his own beer after only a sip and was now looking at her, gaze weighted.
“I really am sorry,” she said quietly, feeling nervous and sick. “I should’ve announced myself.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Good question. And when she didn’t, couldn’t, answer, he turned and vanished into the laundry room.
Chapter 8
From eleven-year-old Kinsey’s summer camp journal:
Dear Journal,
Never fear, I still hate you. But other than Eli, you’re my only friend at camp. I don’t want to be here, but my mom’s got a new boyfriend—yeah, another one—and they’re on a stupid trip.
I’m tired, but they keep making us do stuff. We walked up a mountain in the rain and got muddy. I hate muddy. All the boys took off their shoes and socks because they got blisters and then . . . bare boy feet! Gross.
We also had to play dodgeball—worst game on the planet. One of the obnoxious boys kicked Eli “by accident” so I “accidentally” kicked him back. I told Eli that’s what sisters do. But I actually don’t know what sisters do because I don’t have one.
Brynn’s in my cabin. Again. She gets packages from home with special food and letters. I hate her.
And I hate you, Journal. But not as much as I used to.
Kinsey
ELI OPENED THE dryer and pawed through his clothes for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. It was a little like closing the barn door after the horses had escaped, but he pulled the denim on anyway and went back into the kitchen.
Brynn had moved to the sink and was staring out the window into the night, her profile somber. “I thought you left,” she said.
He looked at her in surprise. “I just wanted to put on some clothes. Thought it might not seem like it because Max’s a toddler, but making you uncomfortable was the last thing either of us wanted to do.”
She bit her lower lip, still looking exactly that, uncomfortable.
“Also, for future reference,” he said quietly, “I don’t walk away when there’s an issue.”
“That makes one of us, then.” Her smile was a little self-conscious, and he remembered when he’d asked her if he could help her move her things into the house. She’d said it wasn’t important. As if she was used to being unimportant. He hated that for her.
She turned to face him, eyes going to his jeans. On the porch, she’d soaked up the unintended view of him buck-ass naked and appeared to appreciate the sight. But then Max had opened his big mouth and made an inappropriate comment about everyone getting naked, and her amusement had been gone in a blink. Rightfully so. “Max’s young and an idiot,” he said. “He won’t say anything like that to you again.”
She nodded, but he could tell from her carefully hooded gaze that she wasn’t big on promises. Maybe she’d had too many broken in her life, something he understood all too well. A fact that only made him all the more determined to never break a promise to her.
Not easy when he was holding K
insey’s secrets. And his own. Such as the fact that, long after their summer camp deal, she’d had a starring role in his teenage fantasies.
“Tonight wasn’t Max’s fault. It was mine. I . . . had a bad experience with a previous roommate.” She broke eye contact. “That was also my fault, and it didn’t end well. And while I’m being honest, he wasn’t just a roommate, he was a boyfriend for four months and then a live-in boyfriend for two months, which is maybe why it’s sticking with me.” She shook her head. “It’s not important. I’m not upset with either you or Max. I’m upset with myself. Also, I’m super tired, so I’m just going back to bed and—”
“Brynn.” He very gently reached out for her hand, catching her. “You live here now. You’re part of us. Which means you, and everything about you, are very important.”
Again her gaze skittered away. She wasn’t ready to believe that, which he understood. How long had he himself gone feeling unimportant? For him, family and a sense of belonging came from where he made them, which was why he’d gathered Max and Kinsey here, with him. But if he was being honest with himself, there was still a part of him that secretly yearned . . . to be the one picked. “Did he hurt you, Brynn?”
“He never laid a hand on me, if that’s what you mean.”
“There’s more than one way to hurt someone.”
She nodded. “Yeah. So . . . I fell for his charm and charisma, and he . . .” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. My point is that I can’t trust my own decisions right now because I was stupid.”
“We’ve all made stupid decisions. It’s part of life. A sucky part, but still. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
His smile was wry. “As the master of shoving things deep so I don’t have to deal, I get that.”
“What do you shove deep?”
“Oh, you know, the usual. Boy grows up with disinterested, divorced parents and then goes on to choose poorly in love as well.” He shrugged. “Just your everyday, typical abandonment issues.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“It happens. And I’ve got a nice life here, with people I care about. We have each other’s back, including yours. And on that note, do you need help with your past?”