On Tuesday morning I arrive at the Holland house with a suitcase, laptop and school stuff, plus coffee, donuts, three magazines, and I downloaded two audiobooks just in case. I have no idea what I’m in for.
I park in the driveway, per my instructions. I’m not sure if I should find it endearing or overbearing that he specifically parked his big black truck along the street to give me a spot in the small driveway next to Archer and Brogan’s Bronco.
The door opens before I can knock. Hendrick does a slow sweep of me standing on the other side before reaching for the coffees and donuts. “What is all this?”
“I brought caffeine and sugar. I figured if I was going to spend so much time with you, I might need both to keep you in a good mood.” I smile sweetly at him.
Brogan laughs from where he stands in the kitchen, shirtless and with some serious bedhead. “Shit, Hen, she’s got your number.”
When Hendrick sets the donuts and coffee down on the island, Brogan reaches for one only to have his hand batted away. “Didn’t you hear her, they’re all for me.”
“You couldn’t even if you tried.” Brogan comes sauntering out of the kitchen toward me as I set the rest of my stuff down at the dining room table. Though maybe it’s more just a table in the dining room, since it’s obvious from the various items littering the top, it hasn’t been used for anything but storage lately.
“This guy lives on oatmeal, grilled chicken, and veggies.”
“That’s not true,” Hendrick says.
“He had a cheeseburger and fries yesterday,” I counter. “And I saw him eyeing the milkshakes.”
“Well, that explains why you were up half the night hitting the bag in the garage,” Brogan says to Hendrick, then pats his stomach. His very flat, very muscled and defined, washboard abs to be more specific. “Had to work off those extra calories.”
“That’s not . . . I wasn’t . . .” Hendrick trails off with a laugh. “Take a damn donut and get out of here.”
Brogan grins as he flips open the box and chooses a vanilla frosted donut and a glazed. “Thanks,” he says after he’s taken a large bite out of the vanilla. “One for Arch too.”
“There’s extra coffee,” I tell him. “But don’t take the one with the HH on the side.”
He finishes off his donut before getting a coffee. He lifts it into the air in a salute to me as a door opens and Archer steps out. His eyes are half open as he shuffles out in his boxers. He adjusts himself while he lets out a loud yawn. Brogan smirks as his buddy finally looks up and sees everyone staring at him.
“Hey, Archer,” I say, trying to diffuse the awkwardness.
Archer doesn’t look my way, but he sees the coffee and donut in Brogan’s hand and asks, “Where’d that come from?”
Hendrick meets my gaze. “He doesn’t have his hearing aids on yet.”
Brogan points at me and Archer swivels around.
“Oh shit,” he says when he spots me. He drops one hand to cover his flannel-covered crotch and waves with the donut in hand. “Hey, Jane. Didn’t know you were here already. Mornin’, roomie.”
I glance back at Hendrick. Of course, he already told them I was moving in before I agreed. He’s always so damn confident. He eyes my suitcase as if to say, “well I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Morning!” I chirp back and then busy myself with pulling out my laptop and getting set up at the table so I can work on school stuff while Archer and Brogan disappear, presumably to put some clothes on.
“Sorry.” Hendrick comes over to help. He shoves a stack of clothes over, then picks up a remote and mutes the TV. “Mornings around here can be a little chaotic. They’ll be out of here soon.”
“I don’t mind,” I say honestly. “Actually, aside from the slightly awkward encounter with your brother in his boxers, it’s all sort of endearing.”
He arches a brow in disbelief.
“I’m serious. It has such a different vibe than our house. We’re all quiet and considerate, coordinated furniture, wine stocked in the fridge, gowns in the coat closet, and dance music always at the ready, and you guys are sports, empty beer bottles, half-naked guys, and—”
“A mess,” he finishes for me.
“I was going to say brotherly banter, but you aren’t wrong.” I pick up a pair of dirty cleats and hold them out toward him.
“I didn’t think about you needing a spot to study. Obviously not a lot of studying happens here.”
“It’s okay. I’ll manage. Go have a donut or three, and I got you a special coffee.”
He walks over and picks up the coffee with the HH on the side of the cup. He sniffs it and makes a face. “Do I even want to know?”
“It’s a salted caramel something or other.”
“Salted caramel?”
“At least try it before you decide you hate it.”
He takes a sip and waits a second before he says, “I hate it.”
“In that case, there’s an extra regular coffee.” I pull out a pair of headphones and open my laptop on the table. I’m not sure what to do with myself, but focusing on schoolwork seems to be a good place to start.
He comes over, still holding his salted caramel drink, and hovers.
“Do you need something or are you going to stand creepily over me all day?”
“I heard back from Logan early this morning about the email.”
“Oh.”
“Do you want to wait to talk about this later?”
“No. Now is fine.” I close the lid of my laptop, and he takes a seat across from me. He wraps both hands around the cup. “He was able to track the IP address, but it came back to a computer in the library, so not that helpful. Same as the email address. It was created there, and the only activity is the email they sent you.”
“Someone from school sent me the email?” My throat tightens. “I guess I should have assumed that because of what the email said, but people here have been cool.”
I always assumed it was someone from my past or a series of pranks, but what if it’s all one person at Valley who really hates me and wants me gone?
“Logan also looked into Clint. He was definitely in California at the time of the email and the night of your party.”
“Okay.” I guess I’m relieved it’s not him, but at least he was a solid lead. Without someone to point a finger at, I’m afraid I’ll go back to looking at everyone like they might want to hurt me.
“But . . .” His jaw flexes before he continues. “He’s still keeping tabs on your social media accounts. Logan found at least two burner accounts he uses to follow you, Ivy, and all the fan pages.”
“That’s creepy.”
“Don’t worry, he’s blocked everywhere.”
“Won’t he just create another account?”
“Maybe, but Logan’s pretty good. He’ll keep an eye on him.”
I nod. “So what now?”
“You get busy studying and I’m going to clean up this mess.”
“I mean about the email and Clint and everything . . .”
“I know what you meant,” he says softly. “You continue to be cautious, but you live your life as normally as possible.”
I glance around. “This doesn’t feel normal.”
A smile lifts the corners of his lips. “Anything you need, just say the word.”
“A time machine?”
We both fall quiet, until he says, “I’m good at my job, Jane. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”
Warmth spreads through my chest, easing some of my nerves. I can feel the confidence in his words. If he believes that, then maybe I can too.
I’m just getting off the phone with my parents when Violet texts in the group chat.
VIOLET
Umm . . . excuse me, why was your hottie bodyguard sleeping on the couch this morning?
ME
I told you he was staying. He wouldn’t leave no matter how many times I told him you were coming home later.
VIOLET
I thought you were kidding. I nearly had a heart attack.
ME
At least you would have died looking at the hottest man alive.
I haven’t told them about the email, but it’s time they know too.
ME
I got a weird email on my school account so security is going to be a little tighter.
DAISY
Oh my gosh. Are you okay?
ME
Yeah. It was just some jerk calling me a bitch and telling me to go back to Cali.
VIOLET
Ugh. I want to junk punch this guy for real. Does he think it’s the same person that was in your room?
My stomach is in knots as I type out my response.
ME
Not sure yet, but he wants to keep a closer eye on me.
DAHLIA
I’m so sorry, babe. Wish I was there. I’ll be back tomorrow. HUGS!
VIOLET
Does that mean Hendrick is going to be a regular sight on our couch?
DAHLIA
OMG please tell me he’s moving in. Felix will lose his mind. He hasn’t stopped talking about Hendrick since he met him at our party.
ME
No, not exactly. He has a family thing going on, so I’m crashing at his place for the rest of the week.
No new messages come in for so long I question if my last message sent. Then it’s a barrage of messages all at once.
DAHLIA
YOU’RE MOVING IN WITH HIM?! OMG.
DAISY
<wow emoji>
VIOLET
I am so here for this. You and your hottie bodyguard shacked up together. <fire emoji>
ME
It’s just for a few days. And I’ve barely seen him this morning even though we’re under the same roof.
About an hour ago he said he was going to work out and went into the garage. Flynn is in his room with the music going, but otherwise the house is completely silent. Knox is at work, Brogan and Archer on campus.
DAHLIA
The circumstances are shitty, but I’m thankful you have him.
DAISY
Ditto. Let us know if you need anything. <3
When the messages die down, I set my phone on the table and decide to wander around a bit. Hendrick cleaned up this morning, so I can see a little more of the house. The kitchen, living and dining rooms are all open. It’s not a huge house, but the ceilings are tall and it feels very airy and open. There’s a loft above the dining room, but the stairs to get up there look a little rickety so I don’t venture up.
The bedrooms are all on the first floor, along with a bathroom. Hendrick’s room is the closest to the living room, sort of in the middle of the others.
I’m bored already. I’m not used to so much alone time. All my professors were really cool about me doing my classes online for the week, though. A silver lining.
I’m inching toward the garage, listening for Hendrick as I step quietly. Access is off the kitchen and the dishwasher is going. The thing is seriously loud. I saw Knox kick it several times to get it going this morning.
When I’m close enough I could reach out and grab the doorknob, I lean forward and listen closer for any sound of him. Is he just sitting out there to avoid being in the same room with me?
I get my answer when the door unexpectedly flies open. I jump back in time not to get smacked in the face, but Hendrick is moving forward and doesn’t see me until it’s too late. We collide.
My face is buried in his bare, sweaty chest, and his arms circle my waist to keep me upright.
“Shit, sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I rest my hands on his biceps to steady myself. He’s slick with sweat everywhere. He definitely wasn’t just sitting out there then.
When he pulls back, I’m flushed and out of sorts and I can’t stop staring at his chest. “I was bored and checking out the house, then I thought I’d come see what you were up to.”
He stands in front of me, hands on his hips now. The pose pulls his athletic shorts down slightly, revealing a hint of black boxer briefs. My body always has a strong reaction to Hendrick, but I’m damn near panting as hard as him. Staring at him should be a sport. I’d place first every single time.
As soon as I’m done with classes, I text with the girls some more and then do a little reading in front of the TV. I have claimed the remote and banned ESPN from playing non-stop. I swear it’s the same five stories repeated all day long.
When it’s time, Hendrick and I take Flynn to basketball practice and when we get back, Archer and Brogan are home. Not long after, Knox shows up too. I was surprised when he immediately started making dinner—fajitas—but no one else said anything so I guess that’s the norm. Interesting. I didn’t picture Knox as the cooking type. He finishes that and leaves the rest of us to eat while he picks up Flynn. He wouldn’t hear of anyone else doing it.
We’re all in the living room. I gave up control of the TV so Archer and Brogan could play video games. Knox and Flynn eat standing next to each other in the kitchen. It’s adorable. Same pose, same expression. The pace at which they eat is even identical.
Knox heads to his room as soon as he’s done. Flynn tries to do the same, but Hendrick stops him.
“Do you have any homework?”
Flynn freezes and stares at his brother like it’s the strangest question he’s ever been asked.
“Yeah, a little. Why?”
“Let’s do it.”
“I was going to work on it in my room after I shower.”
Hendrick says something too low for me to hear, but Flynn relents with a sigh and heads off to his room, presumably to get his schoolwork.
“I think I’m going to get ready for bed.” I stand and then look around. “Where would that be?”
“You can have my room,” Hendrick says.
“Where are you going to sleep?”
“The couch.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that’s silly, but a sullen Flynn comes back with his backpack over one shoulder.
“It’s fine,” Hendrick says as they move to the dining room table. “Night, Jane.”
