Page 62 of Hearts on the Mend

“Figured you could use this first,” I say.

She startles, sitting upright. “Thought you left.”

My stomach drops, but I sit down on the edge of the bed beside Cassie and hand over her coffee.

She peers between me and my coffee, then the doorway. “You got me my booby mug?”

“They were on my mind. Your tits look amazing in my shirt,” I tease.

But that’s a mistake too. My joke falls flat, and I hide behind a sip of coffee, which most definitely is not cool enough to drink yet.

“There’s so much to do today. I hate Sundays,” she says. “Laundry, and I need to pick up Ruby, and I have to get her ready for the week. I’m dying for the bathroom to be ready. It’ll be so nice to have a shower that’s not in your scary old bathroom.”

“I’ll keep working on the tiles today. You should have the bathroom by the end of the week, I think. Once tiling is done, I just need to paint and install the new mirror.”

“I peeked,” she confesses. “It looks great, Nolan. Thank you. I know you said you weren’t good at this, but I think you are. You spend a lot of time appreciating the small details no one else sees.”

I shrug. It doesn’t matter if I’m good at this. I like it well enough, but it’s not as if I want to retire from smoke jumping to start a construction company.

“After the bathroom, what’s our next project?” she asks.

“That’d be the creepy old bathroom by my room,” I say. “The kitchen needs a facelift too. I thought I’d paint the cabinets and reseal the floors.”

“What, the ’70s avocado doesn’t do it for you?”

“We can do better, don’t you think?”

The kitchen is perfect with all of its imperfections. Some of my favorite memories of this house are in that room—breakfasts with Ruby, her artwork, Cassie baking.

“I’m sure buyers are going to want something updated. Can’t gut it with our timeline or budget, but paint will help, maybe a few newer appliances.”

She rests her forehead against my shoulder. “Thanks for last night.”

Her phone dings, drawing her focus. She replies again, then sighs, setting down her coffee on the small bedside table stacked high with books and little paper monsters Ruby colored and cut out.

Ignoring the kiss on the beach was one thing, but something changed last night between us. Something we can’t ignore.

“Really need to meet Matt.” She stretches, slipping out of bed, and unbuttoning my shirt.

I sit there, frozen, as the shirt crashes into my face.

“Good luck with work today. I’ll be back in a bit, and I’m sure I can find something to help you with, as long as she lets me.” Cassie scoffs, a small, humorless chuckle, and I understand she is already pages ahead on her to-do list for the day, moving past the fact that I woke up in her bed this morning.

“Cassie—”

She pauses at her closet, not turning around fully.

“I meant what I said last night.”

Her head whips around. She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, worrying it between her teeth. “Last night can’t happen again.”

“Right.” It comes out flat, but that’s all I can force out without giving myself away.

She disappears into her closet, and I sit there in a bed that isn’t mine, in a house that isn’t mine, holding a shirt that used to be mine, wondering how long I get to keep wanting something before I stop being surprised when I don’t get it.

Her head pops back around the closet door. “Nolan⁠—”

“I heard you the first time, Cass. Got it.”