ChapterTwo
Oliver
Three Months and Eleven Days Earlier
I can’t sleep. Slumber is an eternally elusive state even when I’m at home, resting on a custom-designed mattress and two-thousand-dollar D. Porthault sheets. But trying to sleep on a cramped, lumpy, ancient child-sized couch with the scent of ten thousand family dinners oozing like invisible fog from its depths? Impossible.
What could have compelled me to agree when Finley offered me this pitiable excuse for a resting place? Mindy Fox left for the city earlier in the day. I should have followed her lead and returned to my building posthaste.
This five-bedroom house should have been big enough for all of last night’s guests, but two of the rooms are never used, left as shrines to their former occupants. That leaves three bedrooms, one for Archer and Finley, one for Piper, and the last for Mason, who was dragged here all the way from LA to celebrate Easter with the Fox tribe.
Taylor, yet another Fox sister, is sleeping in her van out front. It’s a full house. A full, chaotic, noisy house.
Yet… if I’m being honest with myself, I chose to stay the night here, forgoing all my usual comforts, because I didn’t want to leave. Watching all of them interact is like visiting a zoo full of exotic creatures, their behaviors bizarre, unfamiliar, and mysterious, and intriguing.
The floorboards groan, and I crack my eyes open a slice. A figure, ashy in the darkness, separates from the stairs. My ears strain for the soft tread of footsteps marking their way through the living room en route to the kitchen.
It’s obvious who my fellow insomniac is, based on the size of the frame and the way she moves through the space, dim as it is. Piper.
I should ignore her. Feign slumber. She’ll go back upstairs, and I’ll continue to lie here in the darkness, alone.
“Can’t sleep?” The words are propelled out of me without my conscious will.
She halts halfway between the stairs and the kitchen, only a handful of steps away from where I’m lying on the couch. One hand goes to her chest, and she releases a shaky chuckle. “No. Hardly ever. You?”
“Same.” I sit up, self-conscious in a plain white T-shirt, my sleep pants covered by an old ratty quilt. “Sorry to startle you.”
“It’s fine.” She pauses. “I was going to make some tea.” She stands there, staring at me, making no move to actually commit to the task.
“Okay,” I say since it seems she requires some sort of response.
“Did you want some?”
Say no. “Yes.”
She flicks on an old lamp near the wall between the living room and kitchen, and it casts a buttery glow over her wan face, illuminating the oversized gray sweater that hangs on her small frame and the soft pink leggings that cling to her form.
I shift to stand, but she stops me with a lifted palm. “Stay. It won’t take long for the kettle to heat. It’s more comfortable in here. Chamomile okay?”
I nod.
Comfortable isn’t the most appropriate adjective, but she’s not wrong. The kitchen has no seating, and the dining table on the other side of the living area is covered in detritus from egg coloring and dinner. The lumpy couch and faded recliner are, in fact, the best options.
Within minutes, she’s back with a mug in each hand, passing one to me. I expect her to sit in the recliner to the side of the sofa, but instead, she sinks into the couch next to me.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“You’re welcome.” She blows on her tea.
I hold my cup in both hands, making a valiant attempt to keep my eyes forward, nerves singing in my veins. I’m never nervous. Somehow, this fragile creature is responsible for crafting the most gut-wrenching sculptures I’ve ever seen. It boggles the mind. She’s like a puzzle I can’t quite solve. The pieces don’t match, yet I know they fit together.
“Do you have a hard time sleeping in strange places?” she asks.
“I have a hard time sleeping anywhere.”
She turns. “Why?” Her voice is low and intimate.
I concentrate on the warm cup cradled in my palms. She doesn’t press me to answer. Something about Piper hammers at my self-restraint. All the emotions I’ve kept under tight control transform into a beast that wants to come out of hiding and bask in her sunshine. I’m both captivated and alarmed. I have no room for feelings. They are decidedly bothersome.