Don't Need You - Lilian Monroe Page 0,24

her there. I want to keep her safe. It’s an involuntary instinct. A need. A primal call to the male side of me, wanting to make sure nothing and no one hurts her.

As Robbie stands up and follows his sister out of the room, I let out a sigh.

He’s been a good friend to me over the past couple of months. At a time when I felt like I could trust no one, he’s been reliable and consistent, and I’ve even looked forward to our flights together whenever I’m not in the air.

The least I can do is provide a safe space for his sister.

And one thing I won’t do is entertain these thoughts about her attractiveness. I won’t go down that road. I won’t act on my desires. I won’t be like Finn, breaking my friend’s trust and taking advantage of the situation.

It’s not the type of guy I am.

Someone shoves a plate full of appetizers at me. Dinner hasn’t even started, and I’m already full, but in the interest of not insulting anyone’s nonna, I accept the plate with a smile, trying to push the thought of Serena out of my head.

8

Serena

My old bedroom door opens behind me and Robbie steps through. He closes the door gently, arching his brows.

“Sorry I wasn’t there when Angelo arrived.”

I shake my head, trying to brush my tears away as stealthily as I can. “It’s okay. Kit was there. I think he scared Angelo away.”

Robbie nods, letting out a long breath. “Kit told me you can stay at his place as long as you need. I think you should come with us on Monday. I can get you on the standby list for our flight back.”

“Monday?”

That’s soon. I wasn’t planning on leaving until after New Year’s, but the thought of heading to Woodvale on Monday has definite appeal.

“I don’t want you staying here without me around. I don’t trust that animal.” Robbie’s brow darkens, and his eyes are drawn to the window—as if he’ll catch Angelo trying to sneak back here.

Tears cling to my lashes and I nod, wrapping my arms around my brother. He rests his chin on top of my head, holding me close.

“I’m sorry no one understands, Serena,” he says quietly.

“You do,” I murmur, my voice muffled in his shirt. “And Kit does.”

“Yeah,” he answers softly. Pulling away, Robbie lets out a long sigh. “Sometimes I feel like Kit came into our life for a reason, you know? Right when you got a job offer in Woodvale, I found out that’s where he lives. He only started flying commercial after shit went down with his own sister. It just…I don’t know.”

“I feel it too,” I answer, sniffling. And I do feel it. The gravity of Kit’s presence. The way he slid into our lives so effortlessly. How right it feels to have him here.

Outside, when he put his hand on my back, I could tell it wasn’t just because of Angelo. He was protecting me from my mother, too. From her doubt and her words. From her lack of understanding.

His hand was a lifeline, and I used it to pull myself together.

Robbie jerks his head toward my Himalayan pink salt lamp, snorting. “Maybe there’s something to all your woo-woo meditation bullshit, after all.”

“What are you calling bullshit?” I grin. “Meditation is proven to help with all kinds of things. Plus, it’s the one thing that gave me the strength to break up with Angelo.”

“Should we burn some sage to commemorate the occasion?”

“Shut up, Robbie.” I shove his arm, hiding my smile. “Even if all these salt lamps and incense and yoga and meditations do nothing, they give me some comfort and they don’t hurt anyone. It’s more a way for me to calm my mind than anything.”

My brother chuckles, reaching into his shirt. On a thin leather strap, the moonstone I gave him almost a year ago hangs.

“You still have it?”

“You told me it would keep me safe during my travels, so I figured it couldn’t hurt.” He grins, tucking it back underneath his shirt and patting his chest. “I still don’t really believe it, though.”

“You don’t have to.” I smile. “But you can’t deny it. You’re just a big, woo-woo-loving, pseudoscience-touting, crystal-wearing heathen.”

“Don’t tell Mom.”

I laugh, wrapping my arms around Robbie’s waist again. He ruffles my hair and lets out a sigh. “Come on. We’d better go downstairs and pretend to care about what Uncle Marco’s talking about.”

“Let me guess. He’s complaining about how kids these days don’t