Page 32 of Room for Three

She uses the key we gave her to let herself inside. I’m no idiot. The girl is avoiding me. And it’s not because of our makeout session, either.

By the time I make my way inside, she’s already gone upstairs. I follow after her, eager to discuss this further, but she’s locked away in the bathroom. Once I hear the shower start, I admit defeat.

While she showers, I make a grocery list and clean up Travis’s mess that’s overtaking our living room. Eventually, the shower stops, and I hear the door open. I give her more time to do whatever it is girls do after their shower and impatiently pace the kitchen as I wait for my opportunity to speak to her.

She finally comes downstairs, with wet hair, and her sinful pajamas, making me forget every damn thing I wanted to say to her. Stupidly, I gawk at the beautiful girl whose white shirt is damn near transparent from the water dripping from her hair and soaking the material.

“Where’s Travis?” she asks again, chewing on her bottom lip. “Is he okay? It’s late.”

“Probably on a date or something,” I mutter. “Was Owen at dinner too?”

She flinches at both my statement and then again at my question. I learn two things without her even needing to say anything. I’ve upset her by saying Travis is on a date, and Owen was most definitely there, which was distressing to her.

Anger swells up inside me and I’m not sure who I’m more pissed at.

“Tell me about Owen,” I say, approaching her slowly. “Tell me everything.”

She shakes her head, bottom lip trembling. “Nothing to tell. He left me a big tip.”

I’ll bet he did.

I’m convinced the man wants to get into her pants and uses his “condition” as sly way to get away with it. Now that she’s an adult, he probably considers her free game.

“I didn’t know he was dating anyone,” she says, voice shaky. “Is it serious?”

Shrugging my shoulders, I say, “Since when is Travis serious about anyone? He uses that hookup app. Don’t worry, he never brings them home.”

Her eyes well with tears and she runs out of the kitchen. What the hell just happened? I stalk after her but when I reach her room, the door is closed. Gritting my teeth, I know I need to leave her alone because I’m the one who established this very boundary for us.

Fuck.

I guess we’ll discuss this shit tomorrow.

Someone crying pulls me from a deep sleep. I roll over in bed to glance at the clock. It’s almost two in the morning. Is Savannah upset Travis went on a date?

Irritation burns through me, chasing away the dregs of sleep. “Sweetheart?”

The crying immediately stops, and I’m met with silence.

“Want to talk about it?” I call out.

Nothing.

With a grunt of frustration, I close my eyes and try to force myself back to sleep knowing I have to get up at a quarter to five for my run.

Then I hear it.

Creak.

Soft padding sound.

A sniffle.

My bed moves as someone climbs into it. Her sweet scent gives her away. I lie still and then groan when she curls against my side. Out of instinct, I pull her tighter to me, hugging her and kissing her head.

“It’s okay,” I croon, voice raspy. “Tell me why you’re crying, sweetheart.”

I turn toward her in the dark, seeking her face with my palm, and tenderly stroke her wet cheek with my thumb. Her breath is hot, tangling with mine.

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