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I sigh, staring down at my hands.

“So, I guess the answer to all of the questions I know people are going to ask is that he saved me. And I was so scared of going back to that person I never wanted to be again that I didn’t care how he did it.”

Eleven

Dash

There’s a lot to unpack with Willow’s situation.

We’ve talked a lot the last week or so, and while I have a better understanding of how it happened, I still struggle with her inability to walk away from Dylan.

Intellectually, I know her situation is complicated.

Her mother made a decision when she was seventeen that still impacts her today, and the fact that this incredibly wealthy, successful woman can’t access her own money is mind-boggling.

I’ve put in a call to Madeline Aronson, an entertainment attorney who knows her way around contracts and litigation. Royal uses her, and she and Atlas are pretty tight, so I trust her, but she wants to meet with Willow and for some reason I’ve been loath to set it up.

It’s ridiculous but we’re in this private little bubble, just the two of us, and I know that I’ll probably never have such intimate access to someone like Willow ever again. Once she leaves, she’ll go on with her life, forget about me, and the truth is—I’m…attached.

Maybe that’s the wrong word.

It’s more like I’m invested.

In her, her situation, and our…friendship?

I’ve taken on a kind of protector role, but it’s more than that.

We laugh a lot, working seamlessly in the kitchen as I teach her some of the basics of cooking and food preparation. She’s a quick study, so it’s been fun to spend that time together. Almost like a couple.

God knows, it’s been a long time since I’ve been in a relationship.

College, actually.

Between being in the military, losing Colt, and then being active in Frankie’s life, I haven’t had the time or the inclination for relationships.

Willow being here has reminded me how lonely that can be.

Normally, I enjoy it.

Lately, not so much.

It’s probably because Banks and Royal have fallen in love and brought two incredible women into our lives. We’re a family, so anyone that’s important to them becomes important to us.

Ironically, I’m breaking our unwritten family code by hiding Willow. This isn’t how we do things, especially when someone is in trouble.

But I made Willow a promise and feel strongly about sticking to it.

There’s an MMA fight on TV, so I’m in the kitchen gathering up what I need for an ice cream sundae, when I feel more than hear movement behind me.

“Hey, uh, Hudson?” Willow’s voice is soft.

“Hey.” I turn curiously.

She looks amazing in soft lavender sweatpants and a matching hoodie, her hair in a messy ponytail.

We did a little online shopping so she could wear something other than my robe and oversized T-shirts. She was extremely frugal, buying the most inexpensive items she could find, and using a notebook to keep track of every dime I spent. She’s determined to pay me back, which is ridiculous considering how little it was.

“Is it okay if I make a sandwich?”