I knew I loved this girl for a reason. “Honestly, Ash. You’d be doing me a huge favor. I don’t like living alone. It’s kinda lonely.”
Her eyes carefully examine mine. “You’re not just saying that?”
I shake my head. “I swear it’s the truth. I would love your company, and the place is big enough that we won’t be in each other’s way.” Reaching across the table, I squeeze her hand. “Please say yes! It would be so much fun.”
“Ow,” Ash exclaims, pinning her brother with a dark look. “Don’t fucking kick me.”
“Someone needs to knock sense into you. Take the room, Ash.”
I stand. “Come and look at it. Maybe that’ll convince you.”
They follow me out to the bedrooms, and I open the door to the spare double room. It’s not as big as my room, but it’s spacious with a king-sized bed, matching bedside tables, and a large closet. It’s been tastefully decorated in shades of white, gray, and pink, and it has an en suite bathroom with a shower.
“Oh my fucking god!” Ash squeals as she enters the room. “Are you kidding me?” She spins around, and her eyes are as big as saucers. “Pinch me, Ro. I must be dreaming.”
Ronan pinches her arm, and she thumps him in the chest. “I was speaking metaphorically, dumbass.” She rolls her eyes, and I grin.
“Test the bed,” I say, knowing I’ve sealed the deal.
“Is this yours?” Ronan points to my sewing supplies. I dumped them on the dresser earlier to clear the dining room table.
“Yep. I like to design and make my own clothes.”
“Get the fuck out!” Ash says when she’s finished rolling around the bed and groaning appreciatively. She jumps off the bed, walking toward us. Her fingers dance across the various materials. “This is so cool. What kind of clothes do you make?”
“Dresses mainly. I made my own gown for prom,” I stupidly admit, and pain spears me through the heart. My face drops as I revisit that night in my head.
Sympathy splays across her face. “You went with your ex?”
I nod. Remembering that night is bittersweet for a heap of reasons now. “I could make you a dress sometime?” I offer, needing to switch topics.
Her eyes widen. “You could make us dresses for the Trinity Ball! It’s black tie, and everyone dresses up.”
“I read about that. It’s in April, right?” If I’m not mistaken, it’s the night of my birthday.
She nods excitedly. “It’s awesome. You’ve got to come with us. We usually have pre-ball drinks at someone’s place before heading to the campus later that night for the music event. It goes on until the early hours of the morning, and it’s completely wild.” She tugs on my arm. “Please say you’ll come.”
“Please say you’ll move in.” My eyes plead with her to say yes.
“Are you really sure?”
“I am.” I don’t hesitate to confirm it.
“Then I would love to move in.” She flings her arms around me. “This is going to be so fun!”
31
“Remind me again why I agreed to this?” I ask, dumping bags of chips into a large white ceramic bowl.
Ash nudges my hip, grinning. “Because you love your new roomie and it’s about time you threw a housewarming party. Plus, it’s Saturday night. And it’s Valentine’s Day.”
God, please don’t remind me.
“That’s four good reasons,” she adds, handing me a vodka cranberry. Her features soften. “I also have a feeling if we hadn’t organized this party tonight you’d spend the night crying in your room.” Her eyes flit to the large bouquet of lavender roses presently sitting in a vase on the dining table. I need to move them before anyone arrives, because they’ll only invite questions I’m not prepared to answer.
They arrived earlier today from Reeve, and I broke down in front of my new roomie for the first time. Tears prick my eyes, and my lower lip wobbles. “Shit.” Ash puts her drink down, taking mine and placing it on the counter, before enfolding me in a hug. We’re both still in our slippers and pajamas. No one is due to arrive for a couple of hours yet, so we planned to get everything set up and then make ourselves beautiful. Ash is so tiny and she barely reaches my chest, but her hug is solid and comforting, and I need it.
“Sorry,” I sniffle, rubbing at my eyes when we break apart. “I hate how fragile I am. It’s been eleven weeks, and I’m still a basket case.”