THE KEYS TO Everett's Range Rover were sitting on the counter this morning beside another English muffin. He had four cars in the luxurious parking garage, and each one looked way too expensive for me to drive. Granted, it wasn't like I wasn't a good driver or anything, but mistakes happen every day. What if some old woman backed into it? What if a student nicked the car door with theirs? Everett would kill me. Probably murder me.

Still, I'll take advantage of the opportunity to have a free car to drive and get an extra few minutes of sleep without taking the twenty-minute walk. For once, I arrived on time to class this morning, and Sam seems shocked, dipping his chin in approval. "And you had time to get coffee?" He arches a brow as he stares at the foam cup in my hand. "I'm impressed."

I roll my eyes and sit between him and Everett, gathering my textbooks and pens. Even sitting beside the brooding man, I still feel that weird energy race between us. The heat of his gaze is agonizing, and when I glance up, he's eyeing my outfit like he wants to peel it off of me. I'm trying to understand why. It's just leggings and a cropped hoodie.

"Lana's boyfriend is throwing his annual beginning-of-semester party," Sam says to gain my attention again. "She begged me before class to try and convince you to come."

"It's never worked before," I reply.

With an exasperated sigh, he rests his head against a curled fist, elbow propped up on the desk. "Why don't you like to party? What is the worst thing that could happen? You get laid for once?"

Everett stills beside me.

"No, Sam. The worst thing that could happen is the police get called, I get caught, and then I say goodbye to my scholarship." People like Sam and Lana don't get it. They will never get it. Their parents are either CEOs of major companies or entrepreneurs with more real estate than they knew what to do with. They can afford to get caught and earn a slap on the wrist. I can't.

"Lameeee," Sam whines. "What do I have to do to convince you to come?"

Everett clears his throat roughly and rolls his chair closer to mine. "Did you enjoy driving my car to school this morning?" He asks rather loudly.

I narrow my eyes, trying to figure out what the actual fuck he's playing at. He never talks to me to start a conversation. "Um...yes? Thank you. It's insanely nice."

He nods. "Good. When you get home, park it next to the Bugatti."

Home.

When I get home?

So many unanswered questions are in my mind, but with Sam sitting beside me, it's not time to ask any of them. All I can do is dip my chin to let him know I understand, just in time for Sam to elbow me secretly in the side.

"What the hell? You're living with him? Why am I just now finding out about this?"

"Sh." I point to the front, where the professor is setting up. "Class is starting."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Oh, no you don't! You aren't getting away that easily." Sam catches up to me as I try to rush down the hall, Lana following right on his heels. "When the fuck were you going to tell us that you're living with that delicious hunk of a man?"

"Who?" Lana asks, sighing in frustration. "I hate being on the other side of the damn class! I'm so out of the loop."

"Everett," Sam supplies. "The brooding, sexy man with the piercings that sits beside her."

"You're living with him? Oh my god, wait. When did you even move?"

I haven't told them about the eviction, and for good reason. They'd worry too much and try to help me, and I can't accept it. For whatever reason, sharing a place with Everett seemed easier than calling my friends for money. I'm too prideful for that. Besides, at least Everett will let me pay him back. Sam and Lana would refuse.

"Rent got raised when I received the new lease. Everett had a room for rent. Simple as that."

"And he's letting you drive his—" Sam's voice falters when I unlock the Range Rover in the student parking lot. "His fucking Range Rover? Emery... What kind of roommate is he?"

"Are you guys fucking? Or...dating?" Lana's legs are working double time to keep up with us.

"Ohmygod," I say in a rushed voice. "Everett and I have known each other since middle school, okay? I used to date his best friend. We hate each other. That's it. Nothing else to discuss."

Lana and Sam both exchange a look before they burst into laughter.

"What?" I ask with annoyance.

"Someone who hates you wouldn't let you drive his Range Rover," Sam says.

"And wouldn't let you rent his free guestroom," Lana adds.

Opening the driver's seat, I toss my backpack inside the car. "You guys don't understand the situation. Liam, my ex, asked Everett to help me out. That's the only reason he's doing all of this."

Sam shakes his head. "It doesn't matter how good of friends he is with Liam. He's a grown man. If he didn't want you there, you wouldn't be there. Trust me."

Neither understands how much history Everett, Liam, and I have. We grew up together. Liam has been our best friend, and we would do anything for him. If Liam had called me up to say Everett was in trouble and needed help, I wouldn't give it a second thought. I would have opened my doors to him, too.

"You guys are reading too much into things," I reply. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to pick up my check."

"Keep thinking about the party next weekend!" Sam shouts.

"Please!" Lana begs.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

After living with Everett for two weeks, I've learned his routine. He comes home after his morning class to do chores, or whatever else needs to be done, so I stop by after picking up my check.

I'm feeling proud of myself for the first time in a while. Getting back on my feet feels good, and with this check, I'll be able to buy some groceries and pay Everett for the room he's letting me stay in. I might even be able to put some towards what I owe in back rent on my old apartment.

Everett is watching television when I open the front door with the code. He glances over his shoulder to make sure it's me; surprised, I think, when I sit beside him and pass over the envelope. "This is for letting me stay here," I tell him. "I'll give you more from my next check."

Opening the envelope, he sees the wad of cash and rolls his eyes, pushing it back against my chest. "I don't need your money," he mutters.

"Well, I'm not going to stay here for free. Take it." I shove it back into his chest, and then his hands come up to grip my wrists, holding me against him.

"You're too prideful," he mutters lowly, scanning my eyes. "I'm letting you stay here to get back on your feet, Emery. Paying me rent isn't going to make that process any faster. My father bought this house for me. I don't need your money, and I don't want it. What I want is for you to get back on your feet again."

"Just because you're wealthy doesn't mean I won't pay you, Everett. I get you want me out of here as fast as possible, but I'm not going to—"

"You were living off of bread with no food to eat," he sneers, and the way his nostrils flare, he's angrier than I've ever seen him. "You waited until you got evicted to ask anyone for help. You shouldn't be using your first check to pay me when I don't fucking need it. Swallow your damn pride, accept the generous offer, and put that money somewhere worthwhile. You're smarter than this."

I scoff and try to tug my hands off his chest, but his grip tightens, and he pulls me over to him. I fall into his lap, straddling his thighs. We're panting heavily from being so angry, but I can't fucking help it. Accepting something as gracious as this for free doesn't seem right. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. Normally, I always look on the bright side, but with Everett, there's never been a bright side. Kindness and graciousness wouldn't be adjectives I'd use to describe him.

"Why didn't you ask for help?" He asks. His hands still hold mine to his chest, but when his thumb caresses my wrist, my hips grind against him, causing his jaw to clench.

"I didn't need it," I whisper.

"Yes, you did, and even after everything, even though we can't stand each other, you know I'd never let you suffer like that. The second you had money problems, the second you were lacking, you had my number. You knew I was nearby."

"Everett, stop," I plead. The way he's looking at me right now... The way his hands have moved to my lower back, scraping against the bare skin right above my leggings, I don't know how much more I can take before I do something very, very stupid.

"Stop what?" He asks. Moving his hands higher, they're on the middle of my spine now, tracing over the band of my bra, and fucking hell, I can't help it. I tilt my head back from the pleasure, and Everett takes the opportunity, tugging me closer until my hands brace the back of the couch. "You are going to be the utter death of me, Emery..." Dipping his head down, his lips brush against my neck. He's not kissing me, but he's trailing his lips up the sensitive area of my skin until he reaches my ear, and the brush of his lips against my earlobe makes me whimper. "Why didn't you call me?"

"You know why," I pant.

"No, I don't. Tell me. You need to say it."

Sitting like this on his couch has already crossed every boundary I've set for myself. Liam and I dated for eight years. This is his best friend. Liam has been the nicest, most caring, most reliable friend ever. I can't throw that away by doing this. No matter how amazing it might feel.

But Everett's fingertips are on my sides now, and then he grasps that area of my stomach, the one area I'm insecure about, and the look in his eyes is feral. One of pure hunger. Hatred. Lust.

Reality slaps me in the face when he pulls the band of my leggings back, and before he's able to discover what that area of skin looks like, I stumble to my feet with a hand over my racing heart. What in the actual fuck did we just do?

The envelope sits beside him on the couch, his cock a hard and pitched tent in his jeans. I pick the envelope up and toss it into his lap, unable to make eye contact with him. "Take the money," I tell him, "and please, for Liam, forget this moment ever happened between us."

𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒

I AM NOT OK.

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