Ella

"That's the last of the boxes," Shea says. "Brenna's right behind me with the pizza."

Through the door comes a breeze that cools my sweaty skin. For the past three hours, we've been unpacking boxes and hauling my furniture down to the basement suite. Walking up and down the stairs leading to the basement suite has been a workout. We need some drinks and pizza because we're sweaty and tired.

Shea sets the boxes on the white marble countertop. For a brief second, he rests his hand on the boxes, making sure they're steady. When they continue to wobble, Shea sighs and removes the top box, placing is beside the bottom one.

We exchange an amused glance. Saying today's been smooth would be a lie. Boxes have toppled. People have tripped on the stairs and scuffed up their elbows. And the four of us got stuck in the entryway, trying to fit the couch through. Some moments were frustrating, but the smiles never faded. I'm glad everyone can relax and make jokes. Had Ryland been part of this move, he would've thrown his hands up and lost his mind. He hates it when things don't run according to plan and without conflict.

I shake my head, telling myself to stop. Comparing my friends to Ryland isn't a pleasant route to take. It's a path that will lead me to destruction. Tonight is about hanging with my friends and feeding them pizza and beer as a thanks. They offered to help before I could ask, but that doesn't mean I don't owe them. Kaleb and Shea have identical schedules, meaning they don't get a lot of time off. They don't understand how much I appreciate them setting time aside for me.

Pizza and beer are the least I can do.

Leaving the boxes behind, Shea heads over to the sitting area. He flops down on the small grey couch. The springs creak beneath his weight as he stretches out his sinew body.

Brenna follows in soon after, closing the door behind her. Balanced in her arms are three large pizza boxes. The smell of tomato sauce and melted cheese fills the kitchen area, making my stomach grumble. Hauling boxes, while it works up an appetite, also fuels you with adrenaline. None of us were aware of how hungry we were until we took a break.

Making room for the pizza, I move the boxes Shea hauled in. Both are full of my limited collection of books. Being an avid reader makes me susceptible to purchasing more books, despite not reading all the unread books collecting dust on my shelves. However, despite my inability to not buy books, keeping them in my apartment was a problem. Lots ended up in boxes in my closet, and the ones I managed to read were sold or donated unless they were definite rereads.

While money is tight, investing in a bookshelf is something I needed to do. I'd be a fool to not use this space. After we got the box down here, Kaleb offered to set it up. We argued for several minutes. I told him I could handle installing a bookshelf. He said he wanted to do it.

Really, he wanted to stop walking up and down the stairs.

Down the hallway, I hear the buzzing of a drill. Kaleb's setting up my bookshelf in the office. Which makes me pause in disbelief for a moment, staring at the box of books before me.

A lot can change in three weeks.

I'm single. I live in the basement suite at Melody and Kaleb's house. A basement suite that is double the size of my old apartment and has the most up-to-date technology. From heated hardwood flooring to a master bathroom that has an enormous bathtub meant for bubble baths. A kitchen of my dreams: a gas stove and oven, stainless steel fridge and freezer, charcoal-grey cabinets that match the streaks in the white marble, an island with chairs on one side. Pendant lighting hangs above, giving the kitchen a warm glow. I could see myself hosting dinner parties here.

"Ella?"

Brenna's voice brings me back to reality.

I blink several times. "Yeah?"

She gestures to the boxes. "Mind moving them? These boxes are hot."

"Shit! Yes! Sorry!"

Feeling frazzled, I move the boxes to the hallway, piling them next to the office. When I peek around the corner, I see Kaleb standing in the middle of the room. Will the drill in hand, he crosses his arms. A screw is between his teeth, pressing into his full bottom lip. Before him is the bookshelf. It goes from wall-to-wall and is about a foot down from the ceiling. The wood is a light grey, matching the flooring.

I lean against the doorway. "It looks amazing."

Kaleb glances over his shoulder, a cocky smirk resting on his lips. The screw still caught between his teeth. Before speaking, he removes it, tossing it to the pile of plastic and cardboard. "And my thighs aren't cursing my name."

His comment makes me laugh. My assumptions were right. Kaleb wanted to get out of trekking up and down the stairs.

I cock my head to the side. "I would tease you about being lazy, but you saved me some work. So thank you. The pizza is here, by the way."

Kaleb's arms fall to his side. He presses the button on the drill once, letting the whirring noise fill the room. Then he sets the tool down and wipes his hands on his jeans. "Sounds good. Just let me wash up first."

I exit the room with a nod and head back into the kitchen. Brenna is looking through the few boxes for plates.

"Do you remember which box they're in?" she asks.

"No," I reply.

In hindsight, I should've labelled the boxes. But after dividing the furniture and other miscellaneous belongings with Ryland, all I wanted to do was leave. Kaleb was right when he suggested moving. Staying in that apartment would've been bad for my mental health. The memories there would've picked at my brain. They still do, but without a place to reference the bittersweet memories to, they're easier to handle. A fresh start is what I need—and I have Kaleb and Melody to thank for that. After our discussion, we settled on payments I can afford and also feel good about. Paying less than average makes me feel like I'm taking advantage of them. The rent we agreed on satisfies both sides.

Brenna, who's kneeling next to a box, climbs to her feet. "Well, we'll use a paper towel as a plate, then. That way, there's no mess to clean up."

She saunters over to the closet by the entrance. Unlike the closet in my apartment, the door doesn't squeak as it rolls along its track. From the closet, she removes a roll of paper towel from my cleaning caddy. Prior to hauling the furniture in, I did a quick clean-up of the area, eliminating any dust or traces of dirt. The previous owners never used the basement suite, but you can never underestimate the power of dust.

Brenna joins me by my side and starts tearing pieces of paper towel from the roll. She hands them to me, and I lay them in a line across the countertop, collecting slices of pizza to put atop them. For Shea's, I add three slices of the ham, pineapple, jalapeños, and mushrooms. He'll eat more, but three is the maximum this paper towel can handle.

Next, I assemble Brenna's. She isn't picky with pizza—she'll eat any kind—so I give her a slice of each. Shea's pizza, pepperoni, and vegetarian with extra black olives. With their slices ready to go, I shove them in Brenna's hands and tell her to go sit down.

She wrinkles her nose. "Ella, it's fine. Let me help."

I swat her hand away from the pepperoni pizza. "Go sit down. I'll get Kaleb's pizza, then I'll bring everyone a nice cold Corona with lime. You some water."

"Fine," Brenna sighs. "But only because you're stubborn and I know I will not win this argument."

She takes the pizza and sticks her tongue out at me. I flash her a dazzling smile.

While the room is an open-concept design, and I can see/hear what's going on in the living room, the space makes the kitchen feel private. After adding pepperoni pizza to Kaleb's "plate," I head to the fridge and grab three bottles of Corona beer and a lime. Then a bottled water for Brenna.

I'm still not sure where the cutting boards or knives are, but I have access to an exacto knife. We've been using it to open boxes. After rinsing it off in the sink, I do my best to cut the lime. The lines aren't straight and the poor slices look mangled, but their purpose serves the same. Soon, there are three bottles of Corona beer sitting on the marble, fizzing and smelling like ale and citrus.

I decide to take the drinks to the sitting area first. Brenna and Shea take theirs, thanking me, and I set the others on the coffee table. Just as I'm about to head back to collect the pizza, Kaleb returns.

"I've got the pizza, Ella. Just sit down."

If there's anyone more stubborn than me, it's Kaleb. Which is why I listen to him. My feet throb in relief as soon as my back hits the comfortable cushions. From the coffee table, I grab my beer and take a long swig. It cools my throat and tastes delicious. There's something about having a drink with your friends after a long day that just... just makes the day perfect.

Soon Kaleb is sitting next to me. He hands me my pizza, and I balance it on my knee. Drinking on an empty stomach is never wise, but I'm enjoying this drink too much to interrupt it with a slice of greasy pizza.

Kaleb devours a slice within seconds.

"Christ, Jones," Shea jokes. He stands, stretching out his arms. "Don't choke."

"Says the one who's getting more pizza." Crumbs fall from Kaleb's mouth as he speaks. They fall down the front of his navy-blue T-shirt, pooling in his lap. He flashes me an apologetic, toothless smile. "Sorry, Ella."

I wave it off. "We've tracked in so much dirt it doesn't matter. I'll be vacuuming later." I pause. The last thing I want to do is vacuum the couch. "Maybe dust them onto the floor."

Setting down his pizza, Kaleb leans over and does that. The crumbs scatter around his scuffed runners.

"This place is amazing," Brenna says.

Her gaze is full of wonder as she surveys the basement suite. While the overall theme is a little cold, I agree with her. Grey and white is basic, and you can warm it up with trinkets and plants. And, despite it being a basement suite, there's a large window near the small dining area. It lets in plenty of natural light and gives me an impeccable view of Lynn Canyon. Plus, it doesn't smell like mildew. No matter how many candles I lit, the smell still lingered in the apartment. The basement suite has a new-house smell, paired with one of Melody's candles. Kaleb lit it prior to us unloading; there are undertones of pine and vanilla with a hint of spice.

"It is. Thank you again, Kaleb. You and Melody... I don't know what I'd do without you."

Kaleb takes another bite of his pizza. Shrugs. "Not a big deal. It's best to get as far away as possible from that asshole. No way he'll drive out here and bang on your door."

I cringe. Two weeks ago, just after I'd broken the news to Ryland about moving—without disclosing where—there was an incident with Ryland. He was drunk and upset. Somehow, he made it up the stairs and into my apartment room. We started arguing. The arguing changed to yelling and screaming at one-in-the-morning. We woke up half the building, and Kaleb intervened before the cops were called. He hauled Ryland's sorry ass downstairs. I'm not sure how the exchange between them went, but Ryland has said little. He's also been very cooperative. Which is rare when he's not getting his way.

I think it's safe to say I owe Kaleb and Melody my soul.

Shea returns with three more slices of pizza and another round of beers, along with another water for Brenna. They're being held between his arm and body, which is why Brenna helps him.

"Couldn't make two trips?" she asks, taking the bottles and handing them out.

"Nope," Shea replies.

My current bottle is almost empty; I toss the rest back and set the bottle down. But instead of grabbing the next bottle, I take a few bites of my pizza.

"I'm a professional athlete and I'm exhausted. What's up with that?" Shea groans as he sits down.

"Don't flatter yourself, Smith," Kaleb snorts. "You're sore from training yesterday. Climbing stairs has nothing to do with it."

Shea shoots Kaleb a confused look. "How am I flattering myself? I'm literally complaining about something I shouldn't be complaining about. As a professional athlete, I should be capable of running up and down those stairs for hours. Not complaining like an old man."

"You're flattering yourself by suggesting you did more work."

I roll my eyes. "He did more work than you. You admitted to constructing the bookshelf so your thighs wouldn't hurt."

Kaleb swallows his mouthful of pizza. Then he shoots me an unimpressed look. "Well, that's the last time I confide in you, Taylor."

"You should know better by now, Jones," I drawl. "I'll rat you out to Brenna, Shea, and Melody any time."

The corner of his mouth quirks up for a brief second. Then it fades, replaced by something that resembles stress.

I'm about to ask a question, but Brenna beats me to it.

"That was a major shift in the atmosphere. Your mood just plummeted, KJ. Why?"

Sighing, Kaleb sets his pizza down and removes an object from his pocket. He sets that object on the table.

Brenna and I gasp.

Sitting atop the table is an engagement ring. It's simple, yet elegant. Delicate. It's rose-gold and there's a half-circle of sparkling micropavé diamonds. They complement the medium-sized, round diamond in the middle. Overall, the ring is small. It's not gaudy or boasts wealth.

It's gorgeous.

"OH MY GOD. KALEB!" I squeal, grabbing the ring from the table. "IT'S PERFECT!"

Blush fills his cheeks. He runs a hand through his hair and then takes a sip of his beer. "It was difficult to find. But I think it embodies Mel's personality. She loves simple jewellery."

I glance at him. "She'll adore it."

To my left, there's a different exchange going on between Brenna and Shea.

Brenna frowns at Shea, elbowing him in the ribs. "You knew about this?!"

Shea grimaces. "You did, too. You knew Kaleb's planning to propose."

"But I didn't know he had a ring! Shea! You're supposed to tell me these things!"

"Technically," Kaleb drawls. "He's not. I asked him not to."

"Why?" Brenna asks.

Kaleb gives her a look. "Harrison, sweetie, I love you to death, but you cannot contain your excitement. Although I'm ninety-nine per cent sure revelation of my plans would be accidental, I chose to not take the risk. Depending on the context, you act differently with secrets. If it's something that needs to be kept secret, you're trustworthy. When it gets you excited, you blab. No offence."

Brenna opens her mouth. Closes it. She crosses her arms and slouches in her chair. She's doesn't look impressed. "Fine. Maybe you have a point."

Shea ruffles Brenna's hair. "At least you know now."

She swats Shea's hand away. "You're planning on proposing soon, then?"

Kaleb nods. "Next week, when Melody arrives. After the home game, we're going out for dinner. I'll propose to her that night. When we arrive home. Proposing in public fills me with anexiety."

Brenna rolls her eyes. "Finally, KJ. Finally." She turns to me. "Let me see the ring."

I pass it over to Brenna, unable to prevent myself from smiling. Brenna's right. We've been waiting for Kaleb to propose to Melody. I'm surprised we haven't placed bets. Melody and Kaleb deserve nothing but happiness.

"Any ideas for the wedding?" Shea asks.

Kaleb shakes his head. "A little too soon. She hasn't said yes yet."

"Still," Shea shrugs. "She must have a Pinterest board or something. Brenna sure did."

That earns him another elbow to the ribs. "Pinterest has excellent wedding ideas, and you can't deny it."

He leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek. "You're right. I can't. That website is fucking awesome. It has everything you need."

"Ah, yes," Kaleb drawls. "The master of recipes."

Shea points at Kaleb. "That was one time, and I will never try to make pancakes again."

"What happened?" I frown.

Kaleb leans over, taking the ring from Brenna. He slips it into his pocket again, which makes me wonder how long he's been carrying it.

"Last summer, when Shea and I went to Whistler, he tried to make pancakes. The recipe was from Pinterest, and Shea almost burned the house down. Smoke alarms were going off. The firemen arrived. It was a shit-show."

I stifle a laugh.

Shea rolls his eyes. "Lesson learned."

Brenna pats his thigh, chuckling. "And it shows. He makes the hash browns and eggs. I make the pancakes."

As the conversation continues on, I fall into a lull. While my heart is still aching from Ryland's infidelity, there is still happiness lingering in my chest. And that's because of my amazing friends and the helping hands they've offered me. 

Without them, I don't know what I'd do.