“Not when you’re packing you can’t.”
She shooed me, and I mouthed a thank you as I hurried through the house, heading toward the front door. She was right, there was so much to be done.
It had taken two weeks, but I was finally settled into a studio apartment in Minnesota. MCAD had graciously given me late acceptance and I’d paid for my first year’s tuition with the money I had used for the deposit on the house.
I walked around the apartment, still riddled with boxes but not nearly as many as when I first got here. Slowly but surely, things were falling into place. Classes started soon, and I’d already gotten a part-time job cleaning up supplies on campus in one of the art studios. Sinking onto my little couch, I sighed, taking in the night sky just clear outside my living room windows. Coming here felt like the right decision, felt like I’d finally made it to where I was supposed to be.
Now, I was officially living my dream.
But there was a huge chunk of my dream missing. The hollowness in my chest, the missing piece pulsing there, could only be filled by one thing.
Caspian freaking Foster.
After everything that happened between us, I wasn’t sure he wanted to mend those broken pieces and start fresh. Especially with his lifestyle, and the fact that we’d have to do long-distance…
For me? I didn’t care. I’d put in the work, the time. I’d do whatever it took to be with him, I loved him that much. But I couldn’t force him to love me, and the longer I thought about my past, about my relationship with Chuck, I knew that if you had to work to get someone to give you their time? It wasn’t worth it.
I just wished like hell Caspian would have found me worthy of that time.
19
Caspian
Good thing the sink was just a few feet away, because I was going to lose the contents of my stomach at any minute. I’d never been this nervous in my life, and that included every playoff game I’d ever taken the ice for.
The sound of the front door opening sent my heart racing and every muscle in my body froze against the kitchen counter. At this angle, I was just out of sight, but the acoustics in the penthouse apartment meant I could hear every step, every word as they entered.
“I know you said you love the place we already found you,” the realtor said, her voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings, “but I just had to show this for you. It’s the find of the decade, especially with the utter insanity of the market we’re in.” Footsteps echoed down the hall, and I pictured her passing by the formal dining room.
What was she thinking? Did she like it? Was it not quite her taste?
Was this all the worst fucking idea ever?
“This is…amazing,” Ryleigh’s voice hit me like a tidal wave, drowning me in every emotion I’d spent the last two weeks doing my best to block out so I could make this all happen.
“Right? It’s closer to your school, like you initially wanted—”
“But you said this area was out of my price range,” Ryleigh interrupted, her voice coming closer.
“I’ll get to that in a minute. It’s really a sort of special situation.” Their footsteps changed as they moved onto the hardwood floor of the living room, and Ryleigh came into view, her back turned away from me as she looked out the massive windows that lined the wall overlooking the Minneapolis skyline.
“Wow.” She shook her head at the view. “This is just unbelievable.”
My eyes devoured every line of her body, from the light green shirt that hinted at the curves beneath, to the shorts that showcased her incredible legs. Her hair was piled onto her head in a loose bun and my hands flexed at the sight of the loose tendrils that curled against the delicate line of her neck.
This was it. At any second, she’d turn and see me standing here. She’d make her decision, and for better or worse, I’d have to live with it—live with the drastic choices I’d already put into play.
“Isn’t it?” The realtor glanced at me over her shoulder, then stood between Ryleigh and me, giving me another second to breathe and collect myself before my redhead would inevitably turn and see me. “As you saw downstairs, the building is incredibly secure. You have a doorman on watch twenty-four-seven. It’s partially furnished at twenty-two-hundred square feet—”
“That’s way too big,” Ryleigh stepped away from the window. “There’s no way in hell I could ever afford this, especially furnished.”
I cringed, second-guessing the few pieces I’d had delivered yesterday, my grip tightening on the white granite of the kitchen counter.
“Well, that’s the beauty of it. You’d be paying less than your current apartment,” the realtor said as Ryleigh turned away again, this time inspecting the fireplace and built-in bookshelves.