The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(104)

“Nope, I’ve got it. Or, rather, the exes squared got it. There’s no way they’re going to leave me in peace until I’m settled.”

His mouth curved slightly. “Nice to see your attitude is permanent, and not just for me in PT.”

“Don’t you mean my bad attitude?”

That got a low laugh, but he was smart enough not to comment. “I’ll leave you to it then, if that’s what you really want.”

The truth was, she didn’t know what she wanted. Wait, no. That was another fib. Number three if she was keeping track. Because she knew exactly what she wanted—to collapse into a weepy heap—alone. She’d shed far too many tears in front of him already, and had promised herself no more, but she was one kind word away from not caring who saw her.

Sensing that, Hog pushed the top of his head against her palm again with a soft whine. Comforted by the touch, she leaned into him.

“Emma,” Simon said quietly. “You sure?”

Hell no. She wasn’t sure about anything. But the old Emma had lived to please others, and Emma 2.0 didn’t want to do that. She was making changes. Her old life had been about perceptions and keeping up with the Joneses. She’d worked four jobs, none of the paying well but all of them adding to the image of a young woman at the top of her game: fit, able, and social-media worthy.

But at the end of the day, when she’d been out of sight for a year, none of it had mattered, and every one of her wide circle of friends and acquaintances were . . . gone.

Or boinking each other.

She’d been given a reset, a second chance that she’d crawled out of hell for, and she was going to do things right this time.

Simon was still waiting calmly for her to respond. She already knew he had patience in spades. He could be gentle steel, pushing her to the very ends of her endurance and beyond, waiting as long as it took for her to get it back together—which she always did. He’d proven that to her time and time again. He knew her limits more than she did, so resistance was futile.

“I’m sure,” she said. “I’ve only got four boxes anyway, and one of them’s a case of Girl Scout cookies.”

His approval of her toughness was in his smile. “I’m right downstairs if you change your mind.” He turned to the stairs.

Her gaze inadvertently slid down his back, reminding her that the “Hard-Ass” nickname had two meanings. The man was fit as hell. She might be off relationships, all of them, but she wasn’t dead. Good to know. “Wait,” she said. “Why are you going to be downstairs?”

“Taking care of my dad, who lives in 1A. I had to move in with him for a bit. I mentioned that, didn’t I?”

“No, you most definitely did not.” She knew his dad, Dale, had suffered a stroke not too long ago and was completely dependent on Simon. She also knew they had a difficult relationship, but he felt sorry for his dad. And now she had the feeling he felt sorry for her as well. Which, for the record, she hated. “But really, go ahead, I’ll be fine. Thanks for getting me into the building.”

“Glad I could help.”

She tried and failed to not grind her back teeth because, oh, how she hated to be helped and he knew it. He just laughed softly at the look on her face and left. She blew out a sigh. He thought he understood, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. No one could.

After all she’d been through, after watching her parents give up a year of their lives to sit at her bedside and worry, her biggest fear now was to be a burden. To that end, she’d just last week finally gotten her parents to fly back to San Diego, the place they’d retired to five years ago.

Once upon a time, Emma’s plan had been to open her own dance studio. That seemed like a lifetime ago now.

Her new plan? Live her life to the fullest for those who hadn’t made it out the other side as she had. And yeah, that was definitely guilt talking. But that’s what happened when you lived and others hadn’t gotten so lucky.

She stepped into her new apartment. Other than a few pics Simon had shown her on his phone, she’d signed the lease sight unseen, so she was relieved to find it was even roomier than she’d thought. The kitchen, living room, and bedroom were filled with nooks and crannies typical of an old Victorian. It was furnished, which was a bonus because she hadn’t wanted anything from her old life. Leather couch and chair, a huge bed with navy and white bedding that looked so inviting she almost crawled into it on the spot.

It was clean, masculine, but also warm and cozy. It felt perfect.

Shutting the door behind her and Hog, she made it to the obviously well-loved brown leather couch, collapsing onto the cushions. Hog plopped heavily to the floor at her feet, both of them thrilled with the glorious silence. Some of her tension started to drain.

Until someone knocked on her door.

Hog jumped up and hid behind the couch.

“It’s open,” Emma said wearily to the exes squared, wishing she could hide behind the couch too.

The door opened, but it wasn’t the exes squared. It was two high school–aged boys, both tall, gangling, and clearly twins, wearing matching T-shirts that said RJ LAWN SERVICE.

And they were carrying her entire life in four boxes.

Hog peeked out from behind the couch, his hangdog face creased in worry.

Emma managed to sit up. “Um, hi?”