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I envied Austen’s tight-knit family. She actuallylikedher brother most of the time. “I can’t think about celebrating right now, Austen. I have to figure out what to do. Gabe does not want me as a squatter in his house.”
“Did he say that?”
“No, but it is absolutely unreasonable to expect him to let me stay when he wasn’t asked for permission in the first place.”
“Okay, let’s think our way through what could possibly happen here. There are really only a couple of options. One, he kicks you out of his house, which would make him a jerk and get you over this thirteen-year crush. Or two, he doesn’t, and you get to stay there until your house is fixed, which gives you a chance to get to know him better and maybe actuallydosomething about that crush. Because forced proximity is a hella popular trope for a reason.”
Mortified, I could only stare at her. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not? It’s the twenty-first century. Women can totally make the first move.”
“First off, I would never make a move on him if he let me stay because he’d sort of be my landlord. He’d be doing me a favor. If I made a move, and he rejected me, that would be horrible. And then I’d be stuck in a house with him and the monster-sized awkward until my house is fixed or I leave everything and move to Bora Bora.”
With a put-upon sigh, Austen crossed her arms. “Fine. We’ll set aside the idea of an intervention for your love life and focus on the practical of what happens if you need a place to go.”
“I don’t have one. That’s how I ended up staying in his house to begin with.”
“Well, you can always stay with me until you find something.”
I absolutely appreciated the sentiment behind her offer, but Austen’s apartment above the bookstore had only one bedroom, which meant I’d be sleeping on the sofa, which had a less-than-zero chance of Cliffhanger, Austen’s cat, deciding to make a bed of my head. That scenario was obviously better than living in a cardboard box on the street, but I didn’t see it as being a practical solution.
“That’s very kind of you, but I couldn’t impose.”
“Felicity-speak for ‘Not a chance in hell.’ It’s fine. I love you anyway.”
“It’s nothing personal, and I love you, too.”
“We’ll keep thinking. There’s bound to be an option you haven’t considered yet. And either way, you don’t even know that it’s a problem. Last night you took him by surprise. But you literally left him talking to his grandma about it this morning. Dorothy isn’t going to let him kick you out.”
I bit my lip as I considered. I mean, I knew Dorothy would insist I get to stay, and Gabe adored his grandmother. It was one of the things I liked about him. Something I’d always believed showed good character. But even if he got railroaded into keeping me as a roommate, if he didn’t want me there, I’d never be comfortable in the house again.
I didn’t bring that point up to Austen. She was a terminal optimist and a romantic to boot, and she just didn’t quite get the situation.
“Anyway, I’ve got to get back to the store. That five-minute window of my ‘Be back in…’ sign is basically up.”
“Thanks for coming. I needed to have my freakout before I opened.”
“Anytime, baby cakes. Let me know how it turns out.” Witha wave, she ducked out the door and flounced across the street to her own shop.
I wandered into the back of mine and took a critical look at my workroom. Maybe I could wedge a cot in here somewhere.
The bell over the front door jangled again, and I pasted on my customer smile as I stepped behind the counter. “Welcome to Bloomsday. How can I… help you?”
Gabe stood on the other side, looking bigger than life and entirely out of place. My breath all but wheezed out. He’d looked incredible this morning in freaking gray sweatpants and a T-shirt that had looked so soft, I’d wanted to rub my head against his chest like a cat. But he looked even better now in well-worn jeans and a flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows to reveal some really impressive forearm porn.
“Hey, I came to get your keys.”
Well, that deflated the insta-lust. My heart sank. He wasn’t even waiting for me to pack my stuff before taking my keys away. Trying to hold on to my control, I flashed an apologetic smile. “I mean, I’m still going to need them to pack up my stuff.”
His mouth tipped further down, and his dark brows drew together in confusion. “No, not to my house. To your house, so I can go assess the damage and start repairing it.”
I blinked at him. “You’re going to fix my house?”
“Well, that’s my job. I’m sorry it wasn’t taken care of before. The person I thought I could trust to handle things in my absence apparently… couldn’t.”
I was too stuck on the implications of the rest of what he’d said. I needed absolute certainty. “You’re not kicking me out?”
That usually gruff face softened, just a little. “No. I’m not kicking you out. I wouldn’t do that.”
