Page 1 of Crushing Clover

Chapter 1

Needing to forcefully remove the crush of mail from our mailbox felt like an omen.

As I climbed the crooked stairs to our apartment, I sorted through outdated flyers and the occasional envelope, only to find one that had been hand-delivered by our landlord. I tore it open. Yay—a passive-aggressive note reminding us that rent was due on the first, no exceptions.

The letter was dated the sixth.

It was now the twentieth.

What the fuck? I’d left Noah money to pay the man. Couldn’t he even do that much?

I unlocked the door, grumbling. The man did nothing but game all day. He could have taken a few minutes to pay the rent. We couldn’t afford to get evicted, considering how rental prices in the area had skyrocketed since we’d moved in. Even having a landlord who liked to flirt with me might not save us this time.

Ugh.

The dishes and laundry would be piled high, but the money that had lured me away would be well worth the mess.

Swearing under my breath, I tried to steel myself for the smell of overflowing garbage cans. Sometimes it felt like Noah was deliberately trying to drown me in work.

No.

He was paying for his life of leisure with all of my free time.

I let myself into the dark apartment, then put my keys and cell phone on the shelf by the door. Unable to resist, I flicked on the hall light and peeked at the kitchen counter, even though I’d vowed not to look until morning. It was hard to tell by the dim light, but was it cleaner than when I’d left?

What the fuck?

He never did dishes unless I was around to grump at him, and even then, it was a rare event. I inhaled deeply, some of the tension leaving my shoulders. There was no smell of rotting garbage?

Nice. I’d expected some extra passive-aggressive slovenliness.

Noah hadn’t been happy about the job I’d taken, but after several long conversations, he’d seen reason. After years of scrimping—buying most things at the dollar store and being regulars at the food bank—our future held promise.

The problem was, I was coming home with only half the money I’d need to finish my degree.

Getting sent home early hadn’t been part of my plan.

My bank account balance was nothing to sneeze at, but if I wasn’t careful, that money would disappear under an avalanche of rent, groceries, and cell phone bills.

I toed off my shoes and undressed, threw my clothes on the couch and crept into the bedroom, not wanting to wake him. He’d be surprised to see me in the morning. Hopefully, his misgivings about me having worked at the island resort wouldn’t tarnish the reunion I’d imagined. More than anything, I waslooking forward to being held by a man who loved me, rather than being mauled by men who’d paid to hurt me.

I popped one of the sedatives the resort’s medical team had given me. Hopefully, it would keep me from screaming us both awake. I slid into bed, finding that the warmth from his body soothed my still-frazzled nerves. The dickhead had apparently started sleeping smack in the middle of the mattress while I was gone, but it made me smile. Maybe he’d missed me and was searching for me in his sleep? His skin was warm and soft, and he smelled so good. I cuddled up to him, glad he’d slept through me coming in. He was always such a grouch when I accidentally woke him when I got home from work.

As I lay there in the dark, the shadows started creeping me out.

Stop it, Clover. You’re home. You’re safe.

The sheets smelled freshly laundered, as though he’d changed them today, even though there was no way for him to know I’d be coming home. Maybe the conversations we’d had about him helping out had finally sunk in. Maybe he felt guilty about what I was sacrificing, and regretted his shitty attitude before I left.

He started to snore. The familiar sound grounded me.

As I drifted off, a warm body crawled over mine. Footsteps padded out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom.

The nearby snoring continued.

In the almost complete dark, I sat up, blinking, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

If Noah was still in bed with me, then who the hell was in our bathroom?

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