Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
LILY
The sound of metal clanking wakes me from a deep sleep. My eyes flutter open, confusion washing over me as I take in the beamed ceiling and the soft afternoon light peeking through the curtains pulled shut over the massive window.
Oh god. What time is it?
I fumble for my phone on the nightstand, squinting at the screen.
4:47 PM. I’ve been asleep for over four hours.
My body feels heavy and sluggish, like I’m swimming through molasses.
When was the last time I slept this hard?
My schedule has been so packed lately that I’ve been having a hard time sleeping at night, too preoccupied with everything that needs to be done.
More sounds drift up from downstairs. Running water, the low murmur of voices. I get up and dip into the ensuite to smooth down my hair and check my reflection. Not terrible. Definitely rumpled from sleep though. The guys must have come home from work and I slept right through it.
Not only am I crashing at their house, I’m being a terrible guest.
The hardwood is smooth against my bare feet as I follow sounds down to the kitchen. The closer I get, the more delicious smells hit me. Something rich, herby, and the tantalizing scent of savory meat.
As I descend the stairs, I catch sight of all three guys, moving around each other with practiced ease.
Hudson stands at the island, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he adds ingredients in a large bowl.
Cole at the stove, stirring what looks like risotto with one hand then moving to season chicken.
Gage works at the sink, washing fresh asparagus.
My chest tightens with an emotion I can’t quite name.
Hudson spots me first, smiling. His dimples make an appearance. Those things are dangerous.
“Sleep well?” he asks.
“I guess so.” I let out a nervous chuckle, suddenly self-conscious as I join them. “I don’t normally take naps.” Napping was never an option with Matt. Part of me wonders if I was too on edge to ever try.
“You must have needed it with how hard you’re working.” Hudson passes me a glass of wine.
“Ugh, thank god.” I murmur, taking a long sip. The wine is crisp and clean with a hint of fruit. “Oh wow. This is good.” Tipping my head, I eye the stove and the prep work they’re almost finished with. “What are you making?”
Gage dries his hands on a towel, turning to face me. “Dairy-free risotto with asparagus and lemon.”
“And crispy chicken thighs,” Cole adds, adding the meat in the pan with a satisfied grin.
“For dessert,” Hudson continues, heading back to the mixer that’s been whipping batter together. “Vegan chocolate cake.”
My eyebrows pinch together. “Cake?”
He nods. “You didn’t get to celebrate your birthday.” He shoots a guilty look in my direction. “Sorry it took so long to make you one.”
Why is he apologizing? I’m completely overwhelmed by the simple fact that they remembered it at all. More so that they know I can’t have dairy, and they’re going out of their way to accommodate me without even seeming annoyed about it.
I set my wine down and move around the island. “Let me help—”
“Absolutely not.” Cole’s voice is firm but gentle.
“No, really, let me help.” I reach for the asparagus that Gage just finished washing. Suddenly Cole’s hands are on my shoulders, guiding me to the barstool.
“Sit down and let us take care of you.”
I stare up at him, throat tight. How do I do that?
No one has taken care of me in . . . god, I can’t even remember how long.
I’ve been the one taking care of Mom, managing her appointments and memory care.
I’ve been the one carrying the emotional load in every romantic relationship, making sure everyone else was comfortable and happy.
That’s probably why I stayed with Matt for so long. Frowning, I pick at my nails. “Is this because I cried?” The question slips out before I can stop it, vulnerability bleeding through my voice.
Cole’s features soften. “No, this is because you’ve been working your ass off, you’re probably hungry because it’s dinner time, and frankly, this food sounded good.” He grins at me, that charming smile that could probably get him out of any kind of trouble.
“If you really feel like you need to do something,” Hudson says, throwing me a lifeline. “You can set the table.”
I practically leap off the stool, grateful for a task.
I’d rather have something to do with my hands so I don’t have to sit there feeling useless while they wait on me.
I grab plates from the cabinet, silverware from the drawer, cloth napkins from the hutch.
Simple tasks, but they help settle the restless energy buzzing under my skin.
Soon enough, dinner is ready and we all sit down around their beautiful dining table. The guys dish out the food, generous portions that make my mouth water, but then they sit there. Waiting. All three pairs of eyes focused on me.
They’re waiting for me to try it first.
“Oh, um.” I pick up my fork and take a bite of the risotto. The moment it hits my tongue, I nearly cry. Citrus bursts across my taste buds and that creamy texture sends my soul straight to heaven. “Oh my god,” I murmur, quickly taking another bite and humming in approval.
“I guess that means you like it?” Gage asks, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips.
“I love it.” I ready another forkful, already planning my next bite. “You guys better start eating before I finish my food and go for yours.”
With light chuckles, they finally dig in.
The conversation flows easily. They ask about my job and if I enjoy it.
I explain that I love it, but it’s exhausting trying to make the career work.
They ask about my mom. I appreciate that I don’t have to pretend that’s not a big part of my life.
Matt hardly ever asked about Mom. I find myself sharing more than I should.
The guilt that’s settled inside me because I can’t visit as often as I’d like, how hard it is to watch someone you love disappear piece by piece, how the financial burden of memory care is too much for a normal person.
“That has to be really hard,” Gage says quietly, eyes filled with compassion.
“My mom always says the hardest part about loving someone is watching them hurt and not being able to fix it,” Cole adds.
By the end of dinner, I’m feeling warm and happy, but a voice in the back of my mind keeps whispering warnings. This is too good. Too perfect. It’s exactly how things were with Matt in the beginning before he turned into a raging asshole who couldn’t be bothered to remember my birthday.
The thought has dread churning in my stomach. “Why are you guys being so nice to me?”
All three of them answer at the same time. “Because you deserve it.”
I stare at them, completely speechless. The words, so simple and matter of fact, steal my breath.
I don’t know if I’ve ever heard those words before.
Not from my dad, who left when things got hard.
Not from Matt, who treated me like an obligation.
Mom, she was amazing, the best mom I could have ever asked for, but now I don’t know if she’ll ever have the chance to say those words to me.
The guys get up to clear the table, leaving me sitting there in shocked silence. I watch them move around the kitchen, the same easy teamwork they displayed while cooking. Is this what Callie feels like with the Williams brothers? This sense of being cherished, protected, wanted.
It’s terrifying and wonderful, and I have no idea what to do with any of it.
Three days later, I push through the glass doors of Big Ridge Realty, already feeling frazzled.
The early morning deep clean at Addison’s grandma’s house took longer than it should have and I’m not even done yet.
She wasn’t kidding about her grandma holding on to things.
The woman apparently kept everything she ever owned.
It wasn’t filthy like some places I’ve seen on TV, but it was overwhelming and there was a ton of dust. I sneeze three times on my way to my desk, eyes watering.
The respirator did its job, but I swear that the funk of old things still clings to me.
All I had time for was a quick rinse off, and I’m absolutely running behind for the rest of my day. My phone buzzes with a reminder about the two o’clock appointment, and I mentally calculate how much time I’ll need.
Sarah waves from behind her desk where she’s already deep in conversation with a young couple about starter homes. She looks so put-together in her navy blazer and her blonde hair sleek and perfectly styled. Meanwhile, I’m puffing for air like I’ve been running a marathon in heels.
I’m so distracted looking at her that I almost crash right into Laura.
“Watch it.” Her sharp reprimand instantly makes my hackles rise. She’s in a boxy black dress that is somehow flattering on her. She would be beautiful if not for the ugly pinch of her face as she glares at me. “Jesus, you look terrible.”
“You’re so sweet,” I tell her, giving her an overly indulgent smile and moving to step around her.
She intercepts me. “You stole my lead.”
I rear back. “Uh, no. I asked Addison to help me out and she sent me a client who had yet to find an agent.” That’s not stealing. That’s just business.
Her perfectly manicured eyebrows pull down. “I have first dibs on new leads.”
Who the fuck does she think she is? There’s not enough time for this argument. “Fine, whatever, you can pee on Addison if it makes you feel better.”
“You think you’re cute, don’t you?” she snarls, marching after me as I walk toward my desk.
I shrug. “I know I’m pretty.” Smirking over my shoulder, I take in the angry red splotches on her pale face. “Shouldn’t you be chasing some leads?”
With a grumble of annoyance, she stomps off.