If I felt safe enough to live in my apartment, I think I could have even lasted longer than those nine months. But after the paparazzi followed me home, Loren asked if I’d like to move into his mansion-sized house in a gated Philadelphia neighborhood.
The same neighborhood that Garrison grew up in.
I couldn’t say no this time.
I really like the Calloway sisters, Ryke, and even Connor. They’ve accepted me into their lives without hesitation, and I know in the beginning that acceptance originated from their trust in Lo. But I hope that now it’s because they also trust me.
“We should decorate and make this space more Willow-y,” Daisy tells me, rolling around my new bedroom on a skateboard. All my stuff (which isn’t much) sits in the middle of the room, still packed in a couple boxes and a suitcase.
I’m officially “moved in” thanks to Lo, Ryke, and Daisy’s help this morning.
They had a few empty guest rooms on the east wing of the house, and Lo let me pick which one I’d like. He didn’t seem pleased when I chose the smallest of the three, but he didn’t push me to choose differently.
I like how quaint this one feels. Just a bed, tin desk, and white wooden dresser. That’s more than enough for me.
Daisy spins to face me as I unfold a box. She’s always moving. It’s kind of like watching a hummingbird flit around a space. “We could also paint the walls.” She abandons the skateboard and plops on my bed. “There’s a hardware store nearby, and we can buy some brushes and stuff.”
I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
I have new roommates. Six adults and two babies to be exact. I’m living with the Calloway sisters and their men.
If you’d told me that’s how all of this would have panned out months ago—I’d have said you were dead wrong. More surprising than that—I’m comfortable here. Not too nervous or skittish. I never thought I’d feel that way with people so famous and so much more interesting than me. I know it has to do with Lo. He made a lot of effort to welcome me and make my surroundings feel like home. He’s my brother, but he feels like family now.
I follow Daisy’s gaze to the walls and then I rip the tape off a box. “I have some posters in here too, and I love the new paint idea.” We exchange a wider grin.
Daisy rests her feet on the skateboard, swaying them back and forth while she sits. “What color are we thinking? First one that comes to mind. Go!”
“Aquamarine,” I blurt out, and then my face falls. Skin hot. Is it hot in here?
“Ooh, aquamarine. That also happens to be the eye color of a certain someone.” She wags her brows. “Anything new you wanna share?”
I shake my head. “Nothing, really.”
She sidles next to me with a pair of scissors, cutting open a different box. Her smile is softer and extinguishes the heat on my neck. “Nothing nothing. Or nothing something? Because I have this theory that nothing is just seven letters hiding an unspoken truth.”
There are definitely unspoken truths when it comes to Garrison Abbey. But these truths aren’t mine to release into the world. He’s been so good about keeping my secrets from people—like anything I accidentally say to him about the Calloway sisters or Loren—that I wouldn’t even think to share his.
And there are a lot of secrets at the moment.
Flunking out of Faust.
Lying to his parents about the boarding school.
Breaking into Superheroes & Scones and sleeping there at night.
I’m a little surprised I aided and abetted that last act, but he’s my friend. And he needed my help. It’s really that simple.
“The unspoken truth is…” I tell Daisy. “Besides you, Garrison is my only other friend, and so he pops up in my head a lot.” I pale again. “Apparently, now with wall colors.”
Daisy smiles. “Aquamarine would actually look really pretty. We can go to the paint store in a few—” She cuts herself off as her husky bounces into the room. “Hello there, Coconut.” She squats down and scratches the dog’s soft white fur.
A few months ago, around Daisy’s 20th birthday, Ryke brought home the husky to help with her PTSD. Coconut is a certified service dog and also the cutest fluffy thing in this house.
“So are there house rules?” I wonder, pulling out a stack of hangers from the box. “It’s just…I’ve never lived with three couples and two babies before. So I don’t know how this works.” Admitting my innocence causes my breath to shallow. I probably sound like a fool. Quickly, I look away before I can meet Daisy’s gaze. If I can’t see it, it won’t be immortalized in my memory.
“Hey,” she says sweetly.
I look up, and her eyes are kind and also vulnerable on me. Like she’s trying to show me the sadder pieces and not just happy-go-lucky Daisy.