Page 21 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

Steven grinned as he followed her towards the stairs leading up to their private living space. “Gee, tell me how you really feel.”

It was a little shocking to discover he’d need more than one box to pack up all of Becca’s things. Stephanie and Jake weren’t exaggerating when they’d said—more than once—that she was taking over his life. And he hadn’t noticed.

“This is crazy,” He opened yet another dresser drawer to discover it more than half full of her leggings and cropped T-shirts that she wore around the house. “How does she even have any clothes at home?”

Stephanie muttered something that might have been “told you so” under her breath, but she turned from where she was lining K-pop CDs along the side of the box they’d brought up. “Put her clothes in some garbage bags.”

“That sends such a mean message, though.” Instead, he handed her the pile of shirts to stack alongside the CDs.

“She texted you a pic of her dirty dancing with two of the guys she works with.”

“That didn’t happen until after we decided to take a break.”

Steph stood and faced him, hands on her hips. “She texted you a photo of her dirty dancing with two guys. If that wasn’t a message of some kind, I don’t know what is.”

“But it doesn’t mean I have to stoop to her level. You should go across the street and ask Kreed. He always has boxes.”

“Suit yourself. This box is full.” She glanced at her phone and squeaked. “I’m going to be late.”

“For?”

“Um.” Sliding the phone back into her skirt pocket, she shrugged. “I might have booked another glimpse of the house.”

Steven chuckled. “Shocker. Go.”

“But the boxes.”

“I’ll finish cataloguing those romances for now. If I call Jake, he’ll bring some by after his shift.”

“You know you could always go over there yourself.”

He frowned into the box of CDs and crop tops. “No. I don’t think so. I don’t need them this second. I can wait for Jake to drop them off.”

“Steven—”

“Please don’t.”

“It’s just across the street.”

“Steph, please.”

“Okay.” She rubbed at his arm, muttered a curse, then threw herself at him to hug him tight and kiss his cheek. “Maybe tomorrow. We can take a walk.”

“Maybe.”

They both knew it wouldn’t happen, but she left without saying so, and he dropped onto the corner of the bed with a sigh. He resisted the urge to look at the picture Becca had texted. He didn’t need to see her grin as she danced with her friends. That’s all they were, he knew. It hadn’t been about the men, it had been about the dancing.

Whether or not that was any less mean-spirited, he didn’t really know. But it was a reason, and he didn’t think it a terribly selfish one on her part. She wanted dancing, and he wanted his books. She wanted to go clubbing, and he only managed to talk himself into walking across the street for a cup of coffee on a very good day.

Maybe the house was cranky towards her, but Steven couldn’t blame her for not staying, even discounting the house offering its own unasked-for two cents on the matter.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Alicia. I know you aren’t the one who drove her away.” He rubbed a stocking foot over the worn hardwood of his bedroom floor.

The blinds at the window thunked against the sill, then snapped up with a whirr and slap of old vinyl.

“Yeah, and no, we’re not doing that,” he told her, getting up to check she hadn’t damaged the spring mechanism in the ancient roller. “If I couldn’t manage to fix my issues in order to keep the woman I loved from leaving me, I doubt very much you shaking your metaphorical finger at me is going to make a difference.”

“Alicia, then, is it?” Stephanie asked, stopping in his doorway to lean against the frame.