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Brooke snickers. “Maybe you should go back to bed.”
The idea is appealing. But I doubt I’ll actually be able to fall asleep again. Instead, I head upstairs to take a quick shower and brush my teeth, and then come back down for coffee.
Brooke is standing in the kitchen, gazing into the living room with a frown on her face. She sighs.
It’s a look I’ve seen on her too often lately. Whenever she’s in the living room or kitchen, she seems to be uneasy.
“You good?” I pull her close to me, pressing my lips against her brown hair. The summery scent of her shampoo calms me.
“I know it’s stupid,” she says, burrowing her head into my chest. “I just kind of hate it here.”
“Because it reminds you of him?”
She nods. Then she shakes herself, pulling away. “I have to take care of some last minute paperwork for school.” Running a hand through her hair, she sighs again. “I’m looking forward to it starting up again, but I don’t want summer break to be over.” She peeks up at me through her eyelashes. “It’s just starting to get good.”
My fingers brush over the daisy pendant around her neck before I kiss her nose. “Then we’ll have to make the most of the rest of it.”
She smiles. Then she jumps when I smack her ass playfully.
“Go deal with your paperwork.”
“It’ll probably take a while.”
“Better hurry.” I wink at her before she turns and heads upstairs.
I glare at the living room. The far wall used to be the prettiest blue—a dark teal that made her red couch stand out even more. Now, the walls are a light gray, and the white sectional that David got is just... there.
And it’s definitely not Brooke’s style at all.
I frown. When she first painted that wall, I remember teasing her about the ridiculous amount of paint she bought for it. She had so much left over.
And I bet she never got rid of it.
Quietly, I enter her basement, flipping on the light switch as I descend the stairs. On one of the shelves I helped her bring down here years ago, I find her paint brushes, rollers, drop cloths, and a couple buckets of paint.
Perfect. I’m sure the paint will need a good stirring, but I can handle that. So I grab everything I need, hauling it upstairs, before moving the couch and end tables out of the way.
If I can help it, I’ll never have to see that look on Brooke’s face again. She deserves to be happy. And she deserves to have her sanctuary back.
“BLAZE!”
I JUMP, STARTLED by Brooke’s voice. I didn’t hear her come down the stairs. My body tilts, but I grab onto the ladder I’m standing on, leaning forward before I fall.
Then my eyes meet Brooke’s.
Her hands are covering her mouth, her eyes wide. “Sorry,” she whispers, and her hands drop to her sides. “What are you doing?”
I smirk. “Need help figuring it out?”
Rolling her eyes, she steps tentatively onto the drop cloth, careful not to step on any of the blue splats of paint that have fallen from my brush and roller.
She’s been upstairs for almost two hours. I made sure to bring her water and a snack so she wouldn’t come downstairs until I had most of the wall done. I may have had her for a snack, as well.
What can I say? She looked too tempting sitting on her bed in shorts and a tank top.
“Get off the ladder.”
I oblige, wiping my hands on one of the cloths I stole from her linen closet. Then I grin at the way she’s staring at the wall, a small smile slowly growing on her face.
