Page 142 of Will Bark for Pizza
“Yeah, I do,” I said, running a hand over the back of my neck. It’s not as though Aspen hadn’t picked up on that since I asked for her help a week ago. But admitting it face-to-face like this felt more fucking vulnerable than I wanted it to.
“She cares about you, too.”
“She does?” The question fell out before I could rein it back in, my unconscious half step forward with the words noticed by both of us at the same time.
Aspen glanced from my boot to me with an amused smile.
Fuck, the last thing I needed was to sound like some hapless teenage boy tripping over his own two feet when it came to the homecoming queen.
“I mean, I?—”
“If you’re in this—and I think you are—you’ll need about three times the patience you’re anticipating. Her trust was shot to hell until there was nothing left of it. It’s going to take some time for her to heal again. To trust again. You get me?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Nana’s analogy about Kira being a wounded animal was perhaps the best nugget of wisdom she offered before her departure. Even if the context was a littledifferent, the core of the meaning was the same. Kira would need time to trust I was who I said I was. To trust that my feelings were genuine. And I’d give it to her.
“I know you helped her burn the letter,” Aspen said.
The letter. In Omaha. I cleared my throat, wondering what else she knew about that trip.
“You’re a good guy, Beckett. Better than I gave you credit for.”
“But?”
“No buts.”
“Unless I misstep, right?”
She patted me on the arm, the way my sister sometimes did. “Nowyou’re getting it.”
We discussed the apartment some more. Where I planned to start next—the bathroom because it’d take the longest, and might require asking for help. The less I had to tell Luke and Connor, the better. I could explain fresh paint, new flooring, and some trim. But I couldn’t explain a fully furnished writing loft with built-in bookshelves that lit up. Better to have them help now before I fixed up anything else.
“You’ll have to tell them eventually,” Aspen pointed out.
“I know.”
“But you tell them too soon, and you’ll spook Kira.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“I think she’s going to love it,” Aspen said.
“Any advice?”
“On the apartment, or Kira?” The twinkle in her eyes said she already knew. “You can never really dotoo muchfor Kira. Not when she’s so used to settling for table scrapson the best days. But she also needs to know she can fly with her own wings. Don’t try to fix her problems, just support her while she sorts everything out. If you’re lucky—and hella patient—you’ll get the girl in the end.”
Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs and we both froze.
“Too heavy to be Kira,” Aspen whispered.
“Sorry to barge in on you kids.” Joe Mason appeared in the open doorway, surveying my work in one slow scan. “Well, I’ll be damned. Looks like a new place.”
“I think Kira’s going to love it,” Aspen said.
“Kira?” Joe repeated.
Shit. I hadn’t really discussed this with Joe. I mentioned I was sprucing up the apartment when I purchased the paint from the hardware store a couple of days ago, but not why. And I certainly omitted the part about a complete renovation with furnishings.
