6. Sully
Sully
I fly into the parking garage with my heart in my throat. All the way here, I told myself to remain calm. That Julius would keep Sloane away from the car. But until I see her with my own eyes—far away from the car and perfectly fine—I won’t relax.
When her white Mercedes comes into view, I slam on the brakes and haul myself out of the driver’s seat.
Sixty feet away, Sloane stands, arms crossed, staring off into space like she’s lost. All I want is to make her feel better.
“Sloane,” I call as I sprint to her.
I want to wrap her up in my arms and hold her close, but as I get closer, she steps back. Her expression shutters, locking me out. Fucking hell. Every time I remember I’m not allowed those moments anymore, it’s like a bullet to the heart.
I pull to a stop and keep my hands to myself while I inspect her from head to toe to ensure she’s not injured. Because even though I’m standing here next to her, my heart still doesn’t believe it. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she assures me, though she shakes her head, contradicting herself. “Great. Just wonderful. So what if the car is on fire?” She waves a hand at the vehicle, which is not currently on fire. But…
“As long as you aren’t near it, I agree.”
She assesses me, a storm of emotions brewing in her eyes.
“What are we going to do with it?” she asks, averting her gaze.
“I called for a tow. Should be here in”—I pull back the cuff of my suit jacket to check the time—“thirty minutes.”
She nods. “So I have no car.”
My chest tightens at the defeat in her tone. “I’ll buy you a new car. Bullocks, I’ll buy two. But please, I’m begging you, move in with me so I can be around to help with shite like this.”
Instead of looking at me or answering my plea, she eyes Julius.
He cocks a brow, and her body slumps. “Fine. I’ll move in with you.”
My facial muscles, so used to frowning, twitch awkwardly as a smile takes over. Her agreement might be a begrudging one, but it’s a step in the right direction.
“Don’t get too excited. I’m not coming today. I have to pack.”
“Okay.” My heart feels lighter than it has in years. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow” seems like a fantastic idea until I make it home that night and assess our shitty flat.
I spend fifteen minutes rearranging Cal’s forty-three plants, relegating them to a few areas to free up a little space in the lounge, but it’s useless. The buggers are invasive as hell.
“Greenery makes people happy,” Cal says as he picks up a small white ball from the pool-slash-Ping-Pong table he purchased when we moved in.
I shoot him a glare. “If you throw that at me, you plonker, you won’t like what happens next.”
Cal chuckles as his enormous Maine coon cat darts out of the room and lunges for the kitchen counter, where Brian is busy making a sandwhich. “Relax. You’re scaring Fuzzy Wuzzy.”
“Dammit,” Brian barks from the kitchen. “Get down. You’re too big to be on the counter. I said down, Dammit.”
“Don’t call him that.” Cal spins and stomps away to deal with Brian and his cat.
Normally, I’d chuckle at the little tiff the two are always engaged in over the animal’s name, but I’m too bloody stressed about bringing Sloane into this shithole to find any satisfaction in it.
“I still don’t know how you did it,” Lo says from the couch. “I was sure she couldn’t be convinced to move in.”
Roughing a hand over my jaw, I turn her way. “I—” I snap my mouth shut when I notice the fishbowl that should be in Cal’s room.
“Why is that thing out here?”
“He needed a walk.” Lo rolls her eyes. That’s code for Cal killed another fish. Seven down, and according to Madame E, three to go.
“Again?” I step closer to the bowl and examine the blue beta fish. This one is much more bug-eyed than the last. How in the bloody hell does my sod of a brother not notice how often Lo changes them out?
She nods and mouths, “We’re almost to lucky number ten.”
Straightening, I put my hands on my hips. “So how do I fix this?”
She chuckles, scanning the dreary room. “There is nothing you can do to fix this place. Absolutely nothing.”
“Yet you stay,” I point out.
With a shrug, she sits back. “Because your brother is here.”
That simple phrase is like a knife to the chest. Sloane and I used to feel that way too. Once upon a time, we were happy just because we were together.
From the beginning, we were inseparable. That’s how I went from just getting by to really putting in an effort at school. Sloane didn’t love the library, so when I suggested she could study with Brian and me at our place, she was more than willing.
Very quickly, she created a study schedule for the three of us, building in time not only to get our work done but to enjoy a few beers and watch movies.
My GPA jumped almost a full point when impressing her became my motivation.
The best part of our nightly study sessions was curling up with her on the sofa after.
It took three movie nights and a whole lot of shite from Brian before I worked up the nerve to wrap my arm around her and tuck her against me.
The small smile she sent me that evening will be forever locked in my heart.
Another Dammit from the kitchen pulls me from my revery. I swallow past the lump in my throat, my heart sinking. These days, experiencing a simple night like that with Sloane again feels implausible.
Lo stands, head tilted, like she’s waiting for me to speak. I can’t find the words. Sometimes I think it’d be easier to stop breathing than to live another day like this.
“Brian,” Cal complains. “Stop with the Dammit.”
With a chuckle, Lo skirts around me and follows the sound of the guys.
A massive cat, dozens of plants, and a bug-eyed fish. At least we’ve eradicated the mice and most of the bugs. And the place is clean. Ish .
Hands on my hips again, I take in the peeling paint. Lo is right. There’s no fixing this.
A loud thud downstairs startles me, and I pinch the bridge of my nose.
Murphy, my nephew, pokes his head out of his bedroom. “Guess Sebastian is messing around with the law books again, huh?”
I wince. Make that an oversized cat, forty plants too many, the fish, and a ghost with a heavy foot .
I scrub my hand over my face. This can’t be a disaster. I have to have hope.