Page 40 of The Secrets We Built Together

"Sorry," he murmured, his voice lower than usual.

"My fault," I whispered back, but I still didn't move. Couldn't move.

Amelia made a little hiccuping sound between us, breaking the spell. Xander cleared his throat and stepped back, giving me room to slip past him.

"Let me clean her up," I said, reaching for Amelia. "You should change."

"I'll be quick," he said, handing her over carefully. "Then we can figure out where to set up her bassinet."

Twenty minutes later, Amelia was clean and dressed in fresh clothes, and Xander had changed into a t-shirt that hugged his shoulders in a way I was trying very hard not to notice. We stood in the second bedroom, surrounded by boxes and baby items.

"I think this room makes the most sense for you," Xander said, running a hand through his hair. "It's bigger than mine, and there's space for Amelia's crib."

"I can't take your bigger room," I protested.

"You're not taking it. I'm giving it to you," he countered with a smile. "Besides, you need more space than I do."

I was about to argue further when I noticed Amelia's blanket had gotten caught on a box, tearing a small hole in one corner. "Oh no," I said, picking it up.

"What's wrong?" Xander asked, stepping closer.

"Her blanket. It's the only thing Madison left that seems to have any... I don't know, sentimental value?" I ran my fingers over the torn edge. "She made it herself. I can tell by the stitching."

"Can you fix it?" Xander asked, reaching out to touch the soft fabric.

"I think so. I'll need a needle and thread."

"I think I have some somewhere," Xander said. "Wait here."

While he went to get the supplies, I sat on the edge of the bed, cradling the blanket. It was a simple patchwork design, nothing fancy, but it was the only connection Amelia had to her mother. When Xander returned, he sat beside me, our shoulders just barely touching.

I threaded the needle and began to carefully repair the tear. Xander watched my hands work, occasionally holding a section of fabric to make it easier.

"You're good at that," he observed. "Where'd you learn to sew?"

"Delaney’s Aunt," I said without looking up. "She believed everyone should know how to mend clothes. One of the more useful skills I picked up along the way."

We sat in comfortable silence as I finished the repair. When I was done, Xander reached out and ran his thumb over the mended section.

"Good as new," he said softly. "Maybe even better."

Chapter 16

Xander

Isat on the couch with my elbows braced against my knees, staring at the floor like it might hold the answers to the panic simmering in my chest.

It was ridiculous, really. Blake was just getting Amelia down for the night, and I was sitting here like I was waiting for a verdict to be read out in court. This was supposed to be simple. Two friends—roommates—helping each other out. That's all this was.

Right.

Roommates.

Except my roommate was beautiful and funny and smart and had this infuriating way of twisting my insides into knots every time she smiled. She'd walked into my life like a thunderstorm—wild, and impossible to ignore. And now she was living here, just down the hall, her pink hair leaving a trail of chaos through my carefully controlled world.

Yeah. This might have been a bad idea.

Still, I noticed something else too—something that stopped me cold.

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