Page 43
“Sure, but—”
“I’ll explain when you’re here.” I hang up before he digs further.
The drive back feels longer than the twenty minutes it takes. My mind replays Trix’s expression—shock, hesitation, her “I will” over “no.” She’s seriously considering it. That’s my chance.
At home, I’m already planning. The guest room upstairs has the best lighting. She’d love that. Decent closet space, but I should clear out the office next door too. Room for books, medical journals, her pressed flowers on the windowsill.
My phone buzzes. A text from Eli: We’re on our way. Jake says bring beer.
I smile, pocketing the phone. My brothers. The twins who’ve been raising hell since forever, somehow surviving eighteen years without killing each other. Now they’re both at State, studying who knows what when they’re not playing rugby or getting thrown out of parties.
I grab a six-pack from the fridge and drop onto the couch. The house feels different now, not really empty, but quieter in a way that has nothing to do with sound.
Forty minutes later, headlights flash across the front windows. I hear car doors slam, then Jacob’s and Elijah’s voices cut through the afternoon. “Dude, that was the wrong turn!”
“No way! The GPS said—”
“You’re reading it upside down!”
I open the door to cut them off before it turns into a full-blown argument. Jacob reaches me first, all lean muscle and that signature smirk, with Elijah trailing behind, looking like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “What’s with the emergency meeting?” Jacob asks, pushing past me. “Who do we need to kill?”
“No one died,” I say, handing them each a beer. “I just need your help with something.”
Elijah drops onto the couch, eyes scanning the room for clues. He’s the quieter one, always observing. “This is about Trixie, isn’t it?”
I take a long sip of my beer. “What makes you say that?”
“You’ve got that look,” he says, gesturing at my face. “The one you get when you’re about to do something crazy for her.”
Jacob’s eyes widen. “Wait. Did you finally tell her? That you’ve been in love with her forever?”
“Something like that.” I sink into the armchair across from them. “I asked her to move in.” The air goes still—everything stops, even the hum of the fridge. Then Jacob lets out a low whistle. “Man, you don’t do anything halfway, do you?” “It’s been three days,” Elijah points out, treading carefully. “Are you sure that’s not, I don’t know, rushing it?”
“It’s been years,” I correct. “And no, I’m not sure. But I have to be ready if she says yes.” Jacob leans forward, serious now. “All right. What do you need us for?”
“Help me get the house ready. There’s a bedroom upstairs, second door on the left. I want to clear it out, paint it, get new furniture. Make it hers.”
Elijah nods, slowly taking it in. “You’re serious about this.”
“Completely.” He studies me for a long moment, then something changes in his eyes. “Okay. What color?”
“What?”
“The walls. What color does she like?”
I open my mouth, then close it. I don’t know. It hits me hard, the realization. How can I want her so badly and not know what color she’d paint her walls? “I don’t know,” I confess.
Jacob’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’re asking her to move in, and you don’t know her favorite color? Dude, you’re screwed.”
“Blue,” Elijah says quietly. Both of us look at him. “Her scrubs. The ones she buys herself are always different shades of it.” Warmth spreads through my chest. He’s right. I’ve noticed it too—the soft sweater she wears on her days off, the dark ones she saves for the toughest shifts.
“Blue,” I agree. “Something soft, not too bright.”
Jacob drains his beer and puts it on the coffee table. “All right then. Paint, furniture, the works.” He stands, stretching. “Where do we start?”
“The guest room needs to be emptied. Everything goes to the basement for now.” I lead them upstairs, opening the door to the room I’ve chosen. It’s spacious, the morning light streaming through large windows. Perfect for her.
“We’ll need to patch the walls,” Elijah says, touching the surface. “Then sand before we paint.”
