7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Molly
“How what’s going to go?” I asked around a lump of anxiety in my throat.
“You’re at risk of losing your apartment. I have a house that feels way too empty. There are so many bedrooms upstairs—” He stopped and swallowed. “It’s just too empty.”
“Will you tell me about how alive this house used to be?” I asked, wanting to take the pain off his face and stalling before he asked what I knew was coming next.
He nodded, his eyes soft and distant. “It used to be overflowing in the summer. All my cousins would come and stay with us. We’d have endless water balloon fights in the backyard.
There’s a firepit back there, too. We’d sit around it and tell the scariest ghost stories we could think of.
It was quiet when they went back home for the school year.
It got quieter when my grandpa died. And then when my grandma died—” He pressed his eyes shut, his forehead creased just slightly as he breathed in.
“I’m so sorry, Emmett.” I wasn’t sure if I should reach for him, but I wanted to. I was already comfortable with him and it kind of scared me.
“The memories didn’t go anywhere,” he said, opening his eyes and pressing his hands to the table. “I’m past most of it, but this is just a big house, and I’m not used to it yet.
“I’m here,” Preston said, raising his brows. “Does that count for anything?”
Emmett scowled, nodding. “Of course it does. I just get lost in those memories sometimes. It’s hard not to when every corner reminds me of something or someone—” He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Maybe it would have been better for me to move away.”
“No,” I said, the force of my words surprising all three of us. “It’s a beautiful home. You’re smart to stay here.”
“Move in with us.”
He said it in the same straightforward, casual way he asked me to come over. I, on the other hand, couldn’t handle the request so smoothly.
“Move in?” I echoed, nearly choking on my food.
“It will give us the opportunity to help you with your romance research.”
His words made the blood rush to my ears, and I crossed my legs, my knee bumping the table. I kept my face neutral, like discussing romance research with two hot men was something I did regularly.
“I see,” I mused, ignoring the way Preston’s brows furrowed.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“Molly needs a crash course in romance for her manuscript. I have some ideas, but I think we need a good night of sleep before we talk about it.” Emmett tapped his lips, and I guiltily peeled my eyes away from them. “I want to make sure I present my ideas properly, so there’s no misunderstanding.”
“So, we’re not kissing tonight?” Preston asked, pretending to be bothered by it.
Really, I knew he was just impatient. We were about to kiss when Emmett found us, and now he was postponing us again.
Preston didn’t like his plans interrupted.
He didn’t commit to things very often, but when he set his mind to something, he moved with mesmerizing speed.
I wasn’t sure what exactly Emmett had on his mind, but I knew Preston wasn’t a fan of anything that delayed his plans.
Emmett grabbed the back of his neck and studied my face, his gaze flicking from my eyes to my lips.
I kept my face neutral, but inside I was freaking out.
Should I entice him somehow? Get things moving along?
I had no idea what to do and I wasn’t about to puff my lips out or do anything embarrassing like that.
If I did, it would backfire on me, and he’d know what a helplessly lame person I was.
He’d never kiss me then.
“There won’t be any kissing tonight,” he said, nodding slightly. “This problem isn’t going to be solved by a kiss—”
“So, I’m a problem?” I asked, trying to joke, but ready to cry.
What the heck was wrong with me? I wasn’t an emotional person. Like at all. If something bad happened, I just picked up and carried on. Sure, I had an occasional panic attack, but that was just stress.
Why couldn’t I joke around with Emmett without my throat closing?
His eyes softened, and he leaned forward, cradling my chin in his hands. He was so close we could kiss if he wanted to. “You’re not a problem, Molly. The whole belief about love not being real is a problem, though.”
“And what do you know about love?” I asked, still feeling burned by his words.
“I was married once,” he said softly, his hand falling to the table.
My stomach twisted. I really didn’t know Emmett well at all.
“Married? As in, used to be?”
Preston glanced at Emmett, his jaw clenching as he balled his hands into fists on either side of his plate. “His ex tried to take him for everything. It was a nasty divorce—”
“And that makes you believe in love?”
Emmett pursed his lips and ran his finger along a pizza box. “It’s more complicated than that. I don’t believe in love with Janie, but yeah, I still believe love is real.”
“Love doesn’t try to take everything you own—”
“She was hurting and thought I would be an easy target.”
“But you must have fought back—” I motioned to the house around me. “You still have this.”
“My grandma passed away after Janie left me. Lucky, I guess.” He laughed, but it wasn’t bitter, just sad.
I scooted my chair closer and grabbed his forearm. “It’s okay to acknowledge how bad that sucks.”
His mouth quirked into a cute smile and his eyes flicked to where I was touching him. I yanked my hand back.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“Don’t apologize. It’s actually kind of relieving you’re not a sociopath—”
“A what?” I blurted. “You thought I was a sociopath, but you invited me to your house?”
He shrugged and nodded to Preston. “He knows you and vouched for you, so I figured it was safe. But then you said you didn’t believe in love, so I wasn’t sure what to think.”
My cheeks burned, and I guzzled my drink.
My phone buzzed as I was setting my glass down. Without looking at either of the men next to me, I slid it out and skimmed over a message from Juliet as my hair fell in front of my face, giving me a shield from their curiosity.
My stomach sank.
Lower than I ever thought a stomach could sink.
“What’s wrong?” Preston asked, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“Juliet and Romeo—”
“Juliet and Romeo? Definitely not a romance lover,” Emmett teased.
I snapped my head up and narrowed my eyes. “Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy, not a romance. And I am not going to doom my best friend’s relationship to the same fate. I swap their names. So what?”
His green eyes sparkled as he smiled infuriatingly. “Another good thing.”
“I might not believe in love, but I’m not a monster.”
“No one thinks you’re a monster, Molly,” Preston insisted. “What did Juliet say? You’re pale.”
I glanced at my phone again and the same ripple of dread I felt on my first readthrough came back the second time.
“They’ve been looking at apartments and heard back from their dream place.
They got it and things are moving fast. It was unoccupied so they can get the keys before the end of the month. ”
“That doesn’t give you a lot of time to find a new place,” Preston said, frowning.
“I have until the end of the month—” I cut myself off, thinking about how lonely the apartment would feel.
I could live on my own, but Juliet brought so much life to the place.
Without her there, it would be hollow. And who would remind me to drink water?
“I don’t know if I want to live there alone, though,” I admitted.
“My offer was serious. And not because I think you’re a problem to solve,” Emmett added quickly. “I asked Preston to move in the same weekend the house became mine. This house feels too empty with just the two of us. We have so many rooms and you need a place to stay. What do you think?”
He sounded a little codependent. That’s what I was thinking. But I had just been having the same thoughts about Juliet and our soon-to-be empty apartment.
I scooted my chair back, far enough to see both of them at the same time, and locked in on Preston. “Do you genuinely want me here?”
“Of course,” he said, stretching his arm over my shoulders.
I ignored the way my heart raced from his touch.
I looked at Emmett next.
He grinned, putting his other arm over me. “I’ve already asked multiple times. Yes, I want you to move in—”
“But only if you’re comfortable, Molls,” Preston added.
“I’m in,” I breathed, before I stalled any longer, although it was tempting to draw it out just to keep their arms on me.
And even though it terrified me how much I liked their combined attention, I couldn’t wait to become their roommate.
“Don’t look so stressed, Rookie. We’ve got you,” Emmett said, the nickname doing anything but calming me down.