Page 50 of Dream House
A groan that sounds like a wounded animal reverberates through the wood of my door. And then the door rattles in its frame once—before it bursts open.
“Tyler!” Stella shrieks.
The guy from the car bowls into my room, landing ass-first before catching himself on his elbows. A drill spins across the wood floors.
“Oh my God, Tyler.” Panic wobbles Stella’s voice. Now she’s in my room too, dropping to her knees. “Did you hit your head?”
The guy sits up, grips his head, and leans forward. He’s the one with head trauma.
Shit.
Stella’s lips have gone white, and Tyler hasn’t said a word. I move around him and squat next to her. She doesn’t take her eyes off him.
I look at him too. He’s covering his face.
“He didn’t hit his head,” I say, certain.
Stella’s eyes are wide with fear. “Are you sure? If he did we have to go to the emergency room—”
“He caught himself on his elbows,” I say. “I saw.”
She looks back at her brother, her pretty face still stricken. “Tyler, what’s wrong?”
He hasn’t moved. I glance behind Stella through the open door. Backed against the banister, gripping its railing, is a thin blonde with a black eye. She’s wearing a tank top and loose fitting shorts. Her hair is up in a messy bun like someone who’s just taken a bath. My mystery roommate.
At the sight of the black eye, Pen’s words click into place.Nina.
Nina’s eyes are wide as she looks back and forth from Tyler to me. But they stop on Tyler.
“Say something,” Stella begs, gripping her brother’s knee.
His shoulders hunch. “Sss..sto...p…”
Stella pulls her hand back like she’s hurt him. “Stop what?”
Beneath his hands, I see that Tyler’s face is bright red. The way he’s hiding it reminds me exactly of Grayson. When he’s embarrassed.
I stand up. “Hey,” I say, stepping closer to the door and blocking Nina’s view of Tyler on his ass. “I’m Lark.” I stick out my hand, and Nina’s eyes widen even more.
I watch her swallow, but she makes no move to shake my hand. “Hi… Nina,” she offers. It comes out like a squeak, but at the sound, I sense movement behind me.
“Whoa, slow down, T,” Stella cautions. But when I turn back for a look, Tyler is getting to his feet. His face is still red, but he’s scowling at me. Now he looks just like Grayson does when I threaten to hide his T-Rex toy.
I’m no fool. I step away from the door, spot the drill on the floor, and pick it up. I offer it to Tyler. “Here you go, man. That’s yours.”
He stares at the tool in my hand before taking it.
“What are you working on?”
He doesn’t look back at me, but keeps frowning at the five-inch drill bit like it tried to murder him. I glance at Stella to find her watching us, speechless.
When our eyes snag, she stammers. “U-um… Tyler was installing a sliding latch for Nina’s door.”
At Stella’s words, Tyler looks up, but not at me or his sister. At Nina. They lock eyes for a second before she ducks her chin and hugs her elbows.
“Cool,” I say, bringing everyone’s eyes back to me. “Maybe you could install one for my door, too, Tyler. Looks like I need one.”
Stella’s hands fly to her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. That shouldn’t have—”
