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Blythe perked up. “Trish is working today, right?”

“Yeah. I haven’t seen her in a while, and I figured I’d stop in.”

Wells, who had been quietly pouring himself coffee, looked over at me. “Want company?”

I hesitated, then shook my head. “I think I’d rather go solo, if that’s alright.”

He nodded easily. “Go do your thing.”

There was something unreadable in his expression, but before I could overanalyze it, Blythe was already grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the stairs.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ve got the perfect outfit for you.”

Charlie called after us. “Make sure it’s something that screams I totally didn’t sleep in the nursery with Wells.”

“Shut up, Charlie! You’re the older brother I never wanted.” I yelled, making Blythe laugh as she pulled me into her room.

Blythe yanked open her closet doors and started flipping through hangers with the kind of enthusiasm that made me a little nervous.

I crossed my arms. “Please don’t dress me like a Barbie. I just want to be comfy.”

She gasped, “Rose, I would never—” Then she pulled out a soft, oversized sweatshirt and a pair of leggings. “This okay?”

I exhaled. “Perfect. Thank you.”

Blythe tossed them onto the bed and perched on the edge, watching me with a smirk. “So, nothing happened?”

I groaned, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. “Why do you keep asking me that?”

She shrugged. “Because you both look guilty as hell.”

I dropped my hands. “Nothing happened.”

She grinned. “I’ll let it go. For now.” Blythe paused. “Did you have fun last night?”

I nodded. “It was a good time. Reminded me of our wild nights out at that gross little beach-themed bar in Seattle.”

Blythe’s eyes went wide. “The Riviera.”

Both of us shuddered.

“I’m going to go shower.” I grabbed the clothes off the bed. “Thanks again for letting us stay here.”

By the time I was dressed and walking downstairs, I felt like a new person. Or, at the very least, like someone who wasn’t still partially dead from last night.

Wells was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee while scrolling on his phone. He looked up when I walked in.

“You look better,” he said.

I huffed. “Gee, thanks.” I slipped a pair of Blythe’s sneakers on my feet.

Charlie leaned against the counter, grinning. “You sure you don’t want Wells to escort you? You know, in case you get lost?”

I shot him a look. “It’s a ten-minute walk.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Things could happen.”

I ignored him and turned to Wells. “I’ll be back soon.”