Page 16 of The Edge of Falling

I stared up at him in surprise, slightly taken aback. "Really? You consider yourself my friend?"

"Yes," he said, "and I would hope that even if I wasn't best friends with your brother, that we would..." He paused then. "I don't know. Have some sort of relationship, meaningful interaction, whatever you want to call it."

My heart thudded at his words, and a part of me didn’t even believe what he was saying. "Really? You'd be friends with someone like me, a nobody?"

"You're not a nobody, Rosalie. You've never been a nobody. You're the most effervescent, bright, happy, warm-spirited person I've ever been around. You and Alice light up a room when you're together. You're fun, and I enjoy being in your company. You don't think I would've said yes to Foster about having you stay if I really didn't enjoy being around you, did you?"

"I don't know." I shrugged as I mumbled, "Maybe."

"No. I pay far too much rent to just put up with someone I don't like."

"So you're saying you like me?"

"I'm saying I like you, Rosalie. You're fun. And I know it's difficult being in a brand-new city, and it's scary, and you feel like you don't have anyone, but you have me. And like I told you earlier, I'll help you figure out what you want to do. I'll help you look for jobs. I'll help you go over your résumé. Whatever you need."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I said, blinking at him with surprise in my voice.

"Maybe because I don't want you to go."

"But I just got here. What do you care?"

"Maybe I wasn't lying when I said I missed you. Maybe I've been waiting for this day for the past couple of years."

"Oh," I said, staring at him, wanting to question him more and figure out exactly what that meant. Why was he being so nice to me? Why was he telling me he'd missed me? He had grown in maturity. The last time I'd known and seen Oliver, he'd been an obnoxious, cocky prick. Yeah, he'd always been fun, and he'd always been handsome, but he'd gotten so big-headed, and he turned into someone I hadn't recognized. Yet I was seeing a difference in him. He was someone who I could really like, someone who reminded me of all the reasons I'd fallen for him as a teenager. "You've changed, Oliver."

"Funny you say that," he said with a small smile. "I was about to say that about you as well."

I ran my hands through my long hair and blinked, not knowing what else to say. "Thanks. You've made me feel better. I should go and set up my bed now," I said, looking at the couch. "It does look comfortable."

"Foster said you could sleep in his room while he's out of town if you want."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I don't want to get accustomed to his bed when I'll be sleeping on the couch most of the time. I mean, if he was a good big brother, he would've offered me his bedroom for—”

Oliver started laughing. "Don't push your luck, Rosalie. You know he loves you, but he's not going to give up his bedroom."

"I know. I already had this conversation with him," I said, sticking my tongue out at him.

He laughed at my childish antic, and my heart warmed as his eyes crinkled. "Come on. I'll show you to the couch. Maybe we can watch a movie."

"Are you sure?" I said. "You don't have plans for tonight?"

"I'm good," he said. "And you know what? I'll even let you choose. Just no—”

"What?" I interrupted him. "You can't say you're going to let me choose and then give me a caveat."

"You don't know what I was going to say."

"You were going to say no rom-coms." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Am I right, or am I right?"

He started laughing. "Fine. You were right. You know I'm not really into rom-coms."

"I know, but they're fun sometimes."

"Well, let's see."

We walked over to the couch, and I sat down and leaned back. The cushions were firm yet soft enough to be comfortable. "This feels good so far," I said, smiling.

Oliver handed me a remote control, and I pressed it and turned the TV on. "Thanks," I said. "Do you have Netflix?"

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