Don't Need You - Lilian Monroe Page 0,41

free.

Free to do whatever I want, whenever I want, with whoever I want.

My mother tuts, and I can imagine her pinched lips. I know my leaving probably caused waves in the family, but as I glance around Kit’s living room—my living room—I know it’s worth it.

“I have to go, Mom.”

“We’re not done talking about this, Serena.”

“I’m a grown woman. I don’t need your permission to take a holiday. I’ll call you tomorrow.” My voice is harsh, and I can physically feel my mother recoil through the phone. Pulling the cell phone away from my ear, I mash the end call button and let out a heavy sigh.

Anger and frustration swirl in my belly, carving out deep, red lines in my gut. Emotions burn the inside of my chest and stomach, making my face and neck feel hot.

I’m an adult. I can leave town if I feel like it. I don’t need my mother’s fucking permission.

As I toss my phone on the sofa and comb my fingers through my wild dark hair, I stare at the ceiling and let out a sigh.

Maybe it wasn’t just Angelo stifling me back home. Maybe it was the weight of my entire family’s expectations holding me down. They made excuses for his behavior when he showed cracks in his perfect façade. They pushed me to act the way they wanted me to act, not how I wanted.

I jump when the doorbell rings. Padding on the hardwood floors, I try to pat my hair down and straighten my clothes, pushing my conversation with my mother to the side. I’ll make nice with her later. Right now, I need to be my own person.

Esme stands on the stoop, her hands in her pockets. She’s wearing a puffy black jacket with a fur hood and those same ripped jeans and combat boots. Her black beanie is pushed back on her head.

With a hopeful smile, she nods at me. “Hi.”

“Oh, Kit is gone for work,” I say. “He’ll be back in four days.”

“I know,” Esme says, nodding to the door for me to open it wider. I do, and she steps through, shivering. “It’s bitter out there.”

“Do the winters get harsh here?”

“Not as bad as where you’re from.” Esme grins.

I give her a smile, wondering why she’s here but still glad for the company.

Her eyes glimmer. “Any chance you’ve got a bit of my mother’s pumpkin pie left over?”

I laugh, nodding, and we both walk to the kitchen together. “And here I thought you were coming to welcome me to the neighborhood.”

Esme grins, glancing over her shoulder as she opens the refrigerator door. “That too. Welcome.”

“But mostly pie.”

“Can you blame me? I see you and Kit have tucked in.”

Esme pulls out the pie and helps herself to a piece. For the second time this week, I follow suit and have pumpkin pie for breakfast. It’s basically salad, though. Kit said so himself.

Esme digs her fork into the pie and chews, staring at me with sharp eyes.

“What?”

“You convinced my brother to forgive Finn.” It’s not a question. Esme tilts her head, staring at me.

I shrug. “It seemed like a silly fight to cling to.”

“How did you do it so quickly? Took you all of what, twenty-four hours?”

I laugh, shoving more pie in my face. “I don’t know. I guess he was ready.”

“I think he likes you.”

My stomach clenches as my cheeks burn. I know my face is red already, and Esme’s eyebrows arch in interest.

“And you like him too.”

I put my plate down and turn my back to Esme to grab a glass of water—but also to get some respite from her eagle-eyed stare. I can feel her gaze on my back as I fill the glass with water and drink half of it down. When I turn around again, she’s still staring, eyebrow arched.

I let out a sigh. “Yeah. I do. But we agreed to just be friends.”

“Right.”

“It’s easier that way. With me living at his place, it would get messy otherwise.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Plus, there’s my brother to think about. They work together. It would be awkward.”

“Never stopped me.” Esme grins, taking the last bit of pie crust off her plate and popping it in her mouth.

I chuckle, my face now bright red. I shake my head, letting out a deep sigh. “I just got out of a relationship a few months ago. It’s not a good time.”

“It never is,” Esme says, but her voice is softer now. Her eyes don’t pierce through me now and she gives me a smile.