WHEN THE WEEKEND finally arrives, I spend most of my Saturday helping do some of the chores around Everett's house. He thankfully hadn't returned the envelope of money I threw at him a few nights ago, but still. There were only a couple hundred bucks in there, and to live in a house as nice as this one? I know the amount in that envelope wasn't a fraction of what I should be paying. The least I can do is clean around here to compensate for my lack of funds.

With the music turned up loud on the speakers, I sweep, dust, and mop my way downstairs. I'm almost done with the kitchen when a gasp emits from my mouth, a hand flying to my chest. Everett has finally woken up and is standing at the bottom of the staircase with a raised brow.

"Jesus, you scared me," I breathe out and turn down the speaker. "It's about time you woke up. Noon? I didn't take you to be a late sleeper."

"Why would you? It's not like you know me." His long, muscular body strides into the kitchen and pours himself a bowl of cereal. When he sits on one of the barstools, I rest the broom against the fridge and cross my arms over my chest. "What?" He asks.

"Do you enjoy being miserable? I don't get you, Everett. You walk around with a big fucking storm cloud over your head all the time, and for what? Living your life couldn't possibly be that bad."

He narrows his eyes. "You know nothing about my life. Stop while you're ahead, Emery."

"Enlighten me, then. If I stay here until I get back on my feet, I should know the reason behind your moods so I can be sure to stay fucking clear of you when you're in them."

"You know what?" The spoon he's holding clatters into the cereal bowl, that familiar tension falling between us. "If anyone should have a storm cloud over their head, it should be you. An eviction notice, no money, no parents, no living relatives at all... Your life is falling apart in front of your very eyes, and yet you still find the energy to joke and laugh and be fucking nice. If we investigate anyone's moods, it should be yours. It doesn't make sense."

The devastation that this living arrangement between us was too good to be true hits me all at once. After all, Everett Holden can only be nice for so long. I should have known it'd be coming to an end at some point. I'm being transported back to middle school when he teased me about my bracelets. The same one he was staring longingly at two nights ago. Ever since then, he's been cold and distant. I don't know what the fuck happened.

It'd be stupid to cry in front of him, so I shove the broom back in the closet and push past him.

I should have known better.

I never should have gotten my hopes up.

"Emery—" He starts, but I stomp up the stairs to drown him out.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Lou-Lou, no." I tug at the poodle's leash when she tries to launch herself at another dog on the sidewalk, muttering an apology to the owner. Dog walking in downtown LA makes me more money than the hardware store, believe it or not. Wealthy CEOs who don't have the time or busy housewives who don't want to be bothered. Plus, they tip very well.

It's a cold, miserable day as we continue down the busy street. I'm bundled up in jeans, a hoodie, and an oversized puffer coat with mittens. It's so cold I can see my breath. No wonder all the housewives don't want to do this.

The weather reflects my mood. I can't stop thinking about what Everett said. Sure, my life is a shit show, but what good would it do for me to sit there and wallow in all the disarray? Am I supposed to feel sorry for myself? Hiding under the covers with a tub of ice cream isn't changing anything. It isn't going to fix my situation. The best thing I can do is get up daily, smile, and hope things will improve.

I don't consider being positive to be a fault of mine. There isn't such a thing as being too optimistic, right?

When Lou-Lou lifts her leg on a nearby fire hydrant, my phone starts to go off in my pocket. I groan when Liam's name flashes across the screen but answer it anyway, tucking my phone between my ear and shoulder. "Hey," I say.

"Uh-oh." Liam sighs. "What's with the tone? What happened?"

Despite not seeing each other in almost two years, he still knows me like the back of his hand.

"Nothing, just doing the dog-walking thing. What's up with you?"

"And now you're deflecting. Something must definitely be off."

When we reach a bench at a nearby park, I plop onto it to give Lou-Lou a break and slump back against the wood.

At times like these, I miss Liam. Stable, reliable, caring Liam. He's too sweet for his own good. Too kind for his own good. As much as I might long for his arms around me again when I'm in bed alone, I've grown to realize that it's not his arms I necessarily want, but someone's. I'm tired of being lonely and unable to date anyone without thinking of the brooding, miserable Everett Holden.

"Everett is just annoying," I say. "We got into an argument earlier. Not that it's surprising since it's us, but he said some pretty hurtful things."

"Do I have to kick his ass? I'll hop on a plane tomorrow if I have to."

I laugh. "No. I've always been able to handle him on my own. However, I don't appreciate you talking him into letting me drive his car."

"What?"

"Stop faking innocent, Liam. I know you asked him to let me borrow the Range Rover."

"Um... I'm not faking anything, Emery. He called me the other day mad as hell that you were walking home by yourself late at night. I didn't ask him to do anything. Trust me, I know you can handle yourself. I've never doubted you."

Wait, what?

Everett gave me his car because he wanted me to be safe? God, I hate the butterflies in my stomach right now. I despise the fluttering of my heart when I should still be angry at him for what he said to me only hours ago.

Knowing this information changes nothing. He's still an asshole with no emotional bone in his body, and one nice gesture won't make me forgive him. That's it. Final.

"I'm happy he's looking out for you, though," Liam adds. "I'm glad he can be there for you when I can't. I'm worried about you."

My cheeks are stinging from the cold. It's getting dark out, so I lead Lou-Lou back down the street toward her owner's house. "You don't have to worry about me," I say, and I want to add it's not your responsibility anymore.

"I'm going to regardless."

For the next five minutes, he tells me about college life in Wyoming, distracting me on my way back to the house, and after I drop Lou-Lou off, I feel more grounded than I was when I first got here. I have Liam to thank for that. Despite not being his responsibility anymore, he's still my closest friend, and for good reason. There's nothing he doesn't know about me, and he accepts every flaw I have.

But that constant, steady love hasn't been on my mind for the past week. Instead, I can only think about ocean blue eyes and that fiery, heated tension between Everett and me. My body craves to argue with him, as toxic as it is. It knows we'll hit a breakthrough if I keep pushing and get him to reach his breaking point. And when that breakthrough comes... My body seems to know already what that will entail. It's begging me to fight for him. It's craving to be in his presence again, even though he can be a downright dick.

And the more I try to push those desires away, the stronger they seem to become.

"Fine," I mutter to my heart in defeat. "You win."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Closing the front door quietly behind me, Everett is in his usual spot, focusing on the plasma screen TV, cussing over his gaming headset at whoever he's playing against. I eye energy drinks littered across the coffee table as I plop on the couch beside him. His brow quirks up like he wants to say something, but he can't tear his eyes away from his game. After all, he's making money on it, so I don't find it rude.

Instead, I lay down to stretch my feet out, my lips quirking up into a smile when he instinctively lifts his hands, allowing my feet to rest across his lap.

When that familiar weight falls over me again, the argument between us earlier seems to vanish. It's a silent apology I'm willing to accept for now because talking about it and letting the truth out about why we constantly argue with each other would be much worse than pushing everything under the rug.

For now, I rest on the couch beside him with my feet in his lap, and it feels like enough.

Author's Note:
500 comments on the last chapter?!?!

What did you guys think?!

For next chapter...
190 votes, 250 comments
:)