Page 82 of Dream House
Kiss.
“W-We can install a keyed lock on your door if you like,” I offer, grasping for something pragmatic, boring. “So this doesn't happen again.”
“Nah,” Lark says, shaking his head. “I was here. It’s not like I’m going to lock my door every time I walk out of the room.” He angles his head toward my bedroom. “And if the only thieves I need to worry about are the pint-sized ones, I think I can handle it. It’s not like Maisy and Grayson can get very far with their loot.”
How come he’s the one who’s been wronged, and I’m the one being reassured?
A minute ago, I was beating myself up for my crappy mothering and irresponsible property management. But his calm and ease are affecting me. Maisyisjust pint-sized. She’s only four. Yeah, she needs to learn that what she did was wrong, but Lark isn’t pissed. He’s not demanding reparations. He’s making this easier.
He kind of does that a lot.
Aside from showing Maisy some grace, he spent his evening helping Nina—or helping Maggie help Nina. He’s offered to help me with my business.
And he cooked dinner for me last night so I could take a bath.
Did I say looking at him was like standing under a hot shower? Scratch that. It’s more like sinking into a hot bath. Effortless.
It would be so easy to lean in and k—
With a sharp inhale, I block that thought and take a step back.
“Stella?” Lark’s voice is rough, but his eyes look concerned.
“I-I need to go check on Maisy. Sorry,” I say, backing into my room. “Sorry again about everything.”
He steps closer. “It’s okay—”
“Goodnight.”
I close the door between us, noting that he’s nearly in the doorway when I do. Spreading both hands against the wood, I feel how cool it is. How hot I am by comparison.
I shut my eyes.
He signed a one-month lease. Don’t forget that.
My chest rises and falls like I just narrowly dodged a high-speed collision.
I know better than this. I know better. Men come into my life when they need something.
Like Dad and his stupid haircut. My brother needs long-term care. Brody needed a good time.
And Lark needs a place to stay. Temporarily.
I may like looking at him. I may like listening to him. I may like getting to know him. But it’s not what I need. As soon as I forget that, life has a way of reminding me that the only one I can count on for what I need is me.
ChapterFourteen
LARK
October arrivesand it’s the first time this semester that walking across campus is actually pleasant. It won’t last. It’s supposed to heat up again on Sunday, but I’ll take the break while I can get it.
The hint of cool in the air must be affecting Pen, too. She came down at breakfast—an honor she usually only bestows on us on the weekends—and declared that we needed to get oursorry asses in gearand help her decorate for Halloween.
Technically, she saidSamhain,but I’m from New Iberia. Nobody there saysSamhain,and I’m not gonna be the first.
So, these are my big Friday night plans. Hanging Halloween decorations with my roommates.
I admit, I was wrong about them. About all of them. The roommates, that is. Not the Halloween decorations.
