Page 48 of Coming Up Roses
He lets out a huffing noise, loud enough to make me peel my eyelids open again. “I’m not. I’m suggesting you let people help you so you can be here for your daughter in the way she needs.”
This time I pull off the glare. How dare he? I want to launch myself off this couch and smack him right in the face for insinuating I’m not doing right by Sadie.
He sighs. “I didn’t mean it like that. We want to help you. And look at you. It’s not safe for you to drive home, so I’m not letting you.” He runs a hand through his hair, then drops his arms by his sides, a plea on his face. He looks as exhausted as I feel. “Because I care what happens to you.”
“Fine, I won’t drive.” I reach for the blanket slung over the back of the couch, not wanting his words to affect me the way they do. He cares, I already know he does. It shouldn’t make my heart all giddy like this.
“You can go stay in the main house for the night.”
“No!” I actually manage to get off the couch this time. “Then Olivia will want to know why I’m still here so latewhen I should have been set up hours ago. Please, she can’t know.”
Flynn’s jaw is tight as he stares down at me, a little furrow between his brows as he thinks. “There’s one other option.”
“I’ll take it.”
“You stay at my place,” he says, his hand finding its way back to his hair.
“Yes, excellent. Great idea.” Anything to avoid Olivia finding out.
“But,” he continues, like he hasn’t heard me. He closes his eyes as the next words spill out. “I don’t have a spare bed.”
Oh.
25
FLYNN
I can’t believeAbi took this option.
She’s standing in the middle of my flat, taking in the simple space. She looks completely out of place with her glamour and elegance—even just wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.
Once she’s finished assessing the space—my sparse kitchen, the simple couch and TV, the few photos I have of my friends and family hung haphazardly on the wall—she faces me, a touch of pink in her cheeks.
“Is it okay if I have a shower?”
I startle into action. I’ve been too distracted by the sight of her in my space. “Oh, yeah, of course. I’ll grab you a towel.” Thank fuck I did my washing yesterday. “It’s right through here.”
I lead her into the bathroom, scooping up the clothes I dropped on the floor last night and shoving them in the hamper as I go. I pull a towel from the cupboard and rummage through the drawers until I find a newtoothbrush.
“Do you need anything else?” I ask. “Use whatever in the shower. I hope it’s okay. The water takes a bit to get going and the pressure is shit. The mark one up from warm is the perfect temperature. Will you want more to eat afterwards?” Why can’t I stoptalking?
Abi gives me an indulgent smile when I finally keep my mouth closed for longer than a second. “I’m good, Flynn. Thank you.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” I say, moving to pull the door closed as I step out of the room.
“There’s one thing,” Abi says and I pause. “Can I borrow some clothes?”
“Um, yeah, sure. Of course.” My brain is glitching. Abi wants to wear my clothes. Well, wants to is probably too strong a choice of words. She needs to. “Sweats and a tee okay?”
“Perfect,” she whispers. “Much better than jeans.”
“Will find something for you.”
“Just shove them through the door,” she says and pulls her sweatshirt over her head, dropping it to the floor beside her. Her eyes return to me, gaze expectant.
Right. I’m standing here in the doorway when she wants to shower. In my house.
Then she wants to wear my clothes and sleep in my bed. Where I will also be sleeping.
