Not my business.
I’d flown to Gianna’s rescue all those years ago when I should have minded my own fucking business. Lesson learned.
Parking in the space closest to my door, I headed inside.
Before winter, I’d have to figure out a different parking situation so both of our rigs weren’t left outside in the snow, but for now, leaving my truck outside meant one more way to keep my distance.
The house was quiet. The scent of macaroni and cheese lingered in the kitchen. I walked to the fridge, getting another beer, then retreated to the living room to watch TV until dark.
The abundance of windows meant that when the sun began to set below the crest of Juniper Hill, I caught it from all angles. Pink and orange and blue light cascaded over the walls, fading with every minute until the silver glow of moonlight took its place.
It should have been relaxing. The number one trending movie on Netflix should have kept my attention. This was supposed to be my sanctuary, yet since the day Memphis had moved in, she’d held a constant chain to my thoughts. A distraction.
Was she cooking dinner? Was she sleeping? Was the place big enough for her? Was she searching for another apartment?
Did I want her to find another apartment?
Yes. She had to leave. We couldn’t do this forever, right? I needed my home back. Yet the idea of her in town, on her own, made me uneasy.
She wasn’t my responsibility. She was a grown woman, an adult, capable of living alone. She was twenty-five, the same age as Eloise. Close to the same age as Lyla and Talia, who were twenty-seven. Did I feel the need to keep my sisters close? No. So why Memphis? And where the hell were her parents? What had happened with those siblings she’d mentioned?
I stared at the TV, realizing I’d watched almost the entire thriller and hadn’t a damn clue what it was about. “Christ.”
Restlessness rattled beneath my skin. I shoved off the couch, went to my bedroom for a pair of workout shorts, then disappeared to the gym I’d set up in my basement.
After an hour spent alternating between the treadmill and the heavy bag, I climbed the stairs, drenched in sweat.
Thankfully, the workout had served its purpose and my pent-up energy had burned out, so I headed to the shower.
Sleep had been scarce over the past few weeks. The last solid eight-hour stretch had been before Memphis had moved in. Drake had a set of lungs, and though I should just sleep with the windows closed, every night, I got too hot and had slept with them cracked for as long as I could remember.
Wearing only a pair of boxer briefs, I climbed into bed, killing the light on the nightstand. My head hit the pillow, and as a gentle breeze swept through the room, exhaustion won out.
But like it had for weeks, my sleep was broken by the wail of a baby boy.
I jolted awake and scrubbed a hand over my face before glancing at the clock beside my bedside lamp. Two fourteen.
He’d slept longer than normal. This past week he’d woken me up around one. Or maybe he’d been up for an hour and I’d just been too tired to notice.
I buried my face in the pillow, willing sleep to come again.
But as the crying continued, echoing through the dark night, I knew I’d be awake until he stopped.
“Fuck.”
That kid was determined, I’d give him that. As I lay on my back, staring at the moonlit ceiling, he cried and cried.
If it was loud here, how loud was it in that loft? I hadn’t slept, but neither had Memphis. Though she tried daily, no amount of makeup could hide the dark circles under her eyes.
The image of Griffin holding Hudson popped into my mind. Then another baby, another set of arms from years past.
A scene I didn’t let myself remember.
Drake’s cries built, one upon the next upon the next, louder and louder, minute after minute, night after night, until it was like he was screaming for me. Enough was enough. I couldn’t lie here and do nothing.
I flung the sheet off my legs and swung out of bed, stopping at the walk-in closet for a T-shirt. Then I headed for the door, pausing to step into a pair of flip-flops so I didn’t shred the soles of my feet on the gravel.
The night air was cool against the bare skin of my arms and legs as I crossed the driveway. I took the stairs two at a time, moving before I second-guessed my decision, and knocked.
A light flipped on, illuminating the glass window in the door.
Memphis’s face was in the glass next, her brown eyes wide and swimming with tears. She looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful. Except tonight she looked to be hanging on by her last thread.
She wiped at her cheeks before flipping the lock. “I’m so