The four of us stood on the parapet just before noon the next day. After showing her our home studio, this was the last stop of the tour we’d given Braxton of the house.
At the moment, we were silently, but not quite patiently, waiting for her to break free from her private thoughts. She was admiring one of the creepy-ass gargoyles, a winged-demon with his mouth gaped open, that we kept instead of swapping them out for modern gutters. We’d decided we wanted to keep the integrity of the architecture as well as the rainwater away.
“Did you know that grotesques were used by the clergy in medieval times to inspire fear in their parishioners?” she inquired casually. Learning what we did about her history, I knew there was nothing casual about her question. “I read they were used to remind the people what awaited them if they were sent to hell.” Shrugging, she bent over the low wall, bracing her forearms on top of the stone barrier as she gazed out at the forest. I didn’t realize I was staring at her ass poked out in those tiny shorts she’d put on for the occasion until she spoke again. “Considering how superstitious everyone was back then, churches had no problem keeping attendance up.”
“Want us to remove them?” Loren offered as casually as Braxton pretended to be. The only difference was that he wasn’t putting on a show. He’d knock this entire house down with a wrecking ball if she asked him too.
Peeking over her shoulder, probably to gauge if he was serious, she laughed and shook her head when she saw that he was. “No.” There was a twinkle in her eye when she turned to face us with her elbows propped on top of the ledge now. “I also read that they ward off evil spirits. I wouldn’t want you boys getting spooked all alone in these woods. Los Angeles is too far away for me to come and check under your beds.”
As soon as she finished speaking, she was gazing off again as her expression fell.
Fuck.
I could tell that it hadn’t dawned on her until now that we lived a thousand miles apart. Eventually, she’d have to go back. Ultimately, we’d have to do without her and try to make an already complicated relationship work long-distance.
The only solution was if she stayed here…with us.
Loren, apparently coming to the same conclusion, brought it up before I, or any of us, could think it over and broach the subject carefully.
“So that’s what your little history lesson was really about,” he teased her. “You want to move in.”
Her eyes bucked as she stood up straight. “What? No, that’s not what I was saying.”
“It’s cool, baby fawn. We’ve got the room.”
She frowned at him before rolling her eyes when she realized that it was him leading her into a trap and not the other way around. “I’m not moving in with you, Loren.”
He frowned deeply, confirming what I already knew. Loren hadn’t been just teasing. “Why not?”
“Because we’ve been dating for two seconds?”
“You plan on going anywhere?” he asked her quietly, his tone curious but his gaze blank.
Braxton’s answer and how carefully she tread would determine how fast this escalated. Rich and I glanced at one another, but for some reason, neither of us felt compelled to step in. He was supposed to be the voice of reason, and whenever that didn’t work, I brought the heavy hand and put my foot down. Loren’s job usually consisted of finessing the situation—whenever he wasn’t causing trouble to begin with.
“There’s no harm in taking it slow, Loren. The tour won’t be over for months. Can’t we just talk about it then?” she reasoned.
Unfortunately, Loren wasn’t in the mood to be reasonable. Everything she said had gone in one ear and out the other. “Why put off tomorrow what can be done today?”
Nostrils flaring, there was a fire in Braxton’s eyes as they searched the ground, and I knew from firsthand experience that she was looking for something to throw at his head.
Rich and I both exhaled our relief when we searched the ground as well and saw no rocks lying around.
When it looked like he wasn’t getting his way anytime soon, Loren dug his—our—hole a little deeper. It wouldn’t escape her notice that we didn’t step in, and eventually, she’d figure out why. “Stop pretending you’re not into it too when we all know better,” he snapped.