Page 6 of This Reckless Home

I don’t even realize I’ve bent down until her thumb brushes the edge of my scar. I hear the other two take in sharp breaths, but I pay them no mind. Her eyes trace the scarred flesh, the skin around them tight, but there’s no revulsion in them, no pity either. Just a hint of sadness.

“For offering a stranger comfort,” she whispers, her gaze once again finding mine. “Shall we go to the pool house now? So you guys can get settled in?”

Her hand leaves my skin, and I miss the touch instantly, the need to chase it almost overcoming me.

“We’ll need to grab some stuff from our place,” Anatole informs her, and she pauses, her eyes widening briefly.

“Oh, of course. Maybe you could do that after dinner? Once Justin is settled a bit? I-if that works, of course,” she rambles, and her cheeks heat a little in the most charming way. And that’s what she’s done, with me certainly. Charmed me like those fairytale princesses do.

“That’ll work,” he replies, and her smile brightens, stealing the breath from my lungs. Jesus, I’ve not felt this way before, especially after only just meeting a chick. But she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.

“Excellent, perfect, good…” she trails off, her cheeks coloring more and even Anatole’s lips twitch at how damn adorable she is when she’s flustered. “Right, pool house.”

She gives a nod, then spins on her sneaker-covered foot, heading out the door.

“Best we follow the Princess,” Nox states, and I give him a sharp look. He shrugs. “What? She is obviously a poor little rich girl, probably with daddy issues.”

A small gasp has me looking back at the doorway to find Blossom standing there, her lower lip trembling slightly. Fucking dick move, Nox.

“Um, if you want to follow me?” she invites us, looking at the ground, her voice so damn small that I want to punch Nox in his pretty boy face.

“Shit, I can be a dickhead sometimes, Petal,” Nox states, and I whip my head towards him. I can count on one hand the times he’s apologized, and it’s only ever been to me or Ant. “I shouldn’t have said that shit.”

She gives him a small head dip, swallowing and pasting a fake as fuck smile on her lips which cuts me to the bone. “That’s okay. Shall we?”

She turns around again, clearly not wanting to face any of us, and I shoulder-check Nox as I pass to follow her.

“You can be a real fucking asshole sometimes, Nox,” Ant hisses behind me.

“I know,” is all that Nox replies, and my chest tightens.

He knows. He knows why he lashes out, why he builds walls. Growing up Black and biracial in the system taught him to expect the worst from people who look like her — rich, white, and privileged. Taught him to strike first before they can hurt him. Doesn’t excuse his poor fucking behaviour with her; she’s clearly not like that. The way she looked at Anna and Noah, at us, at these broken kids — no fear, no judgment, just genuine care. But some things can’t be unlearned so quickly.

Just like the kids of this house, we’re broken. The difference is, it’s too late to fix the three of us.

CHAPTER THREE

“CAN YOU HOLD ME” BY NF, BRITT NICOLE

BLOSSOM

Itry to ignore Nox’s cutting words. I know it’s his own experiences and trauma from being in the system lashing out. It’s not his fault he’s landed on one of my truths. My father was always distant, and now can’t stand me most of the time, especially since my mother left me her fortune, knowing all too well the type of man she married and wanting to make sure I was looked after and independent after she died. So Nox is right. I am rich. I do have daddy issues.

Sighing, I lead them through the dining room and out into the garden. It’s not too cold at the moment; spring is almost giving way to summer here in the Shenandoah Valley, and the sun hasn’t set yet so it’s still a little warm out.

I take them down the side path which leads to the pool house up ahead, the pool to the left of us sparkling in the mid-afternoon.

“This path takes you around to the side entrance. I’ll get you guy’s keys cut and the code to the gate, which is just around the side from the front drive. There’s parking here for your truck too,” I tell them, feeling their gazes on my back.

“This is…” Anatole sighs, sounding almost defeated, which doesn’t make sense. “Thank you, this means a lot.”

“It’s no trouble,” I reply, taking the key I’d grabbed before out of my jeans pocket and walking up to the front door. “And I’m sure it’ll help Justin to settle immensely.”

Unlocking the door, I turn to hand it to one of them, finding Anatole right behind me, closer than I expected. My lips part in surprise, my feet wobbling ever so slightly, but his hand darts out and lands on my arm to help steady me. It burns where he touches me, even through my sweater, and my mouth goes dry. His scent of cedar, clean soap fills my nose, and god, it makes me want to roll in him.

You are such a weirdo, Blossom.

“H—here,” I hold out the key, his fingers enclosing around it even as his other hand doesn’t move from my arm.