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My siblings’ not-so-subtle urging to change course notwithstanding, they had a point. I needed to find some kind of middle ground with Anya. Something between total avoidance and hanging on her every word.

I brushed my teeth and pulled on my sleep pants, spreading the sheets and blankets across the couch in minutes. The lump in the second cushion welcomed me like an old friend, reminding me not to get too comfortable.

Straining to hear anything beyond the usual night sounds, my eyes gritty from lack of sleep, I slowly succumbed to the awkward peace I’d found on Vi’s sofa.

It wasn’t exactly home or comfortable, but it did let me ensure that she and Anya stayed safe. There was more than a flimsy lock keeping the world out. There was me.

***

A bird chirping woke me from the first sound slumber I had all week.

“Fuuuuuck.” The bird meant I was late. I usually tried to be out of the house by dawn. It had been a grueling few weeks, but worth it to keep my promise.

“Well, good morning to you too.”

“Shit,” I bit out. I didn’t mean for Anya to hear that. Didn’t mean foranyoneto hear it.

“Here.” She plunked a cup of coffee on the table beside the couch, the motion jerky. Like she was mad. Because I’d overstayed my welcome?

“Sorry,” I rumbled, my voice still scratchy with sleep. “Didn’t mean to still be here.”

She huffed and turned on her heel, flouncing toward the kitchen.

I sat up, gulping coffee, still groggy from my too-short night on the couch. Anya moved around the kitchen, dressed for work in black leggings and a pink tunic-length workout tank that left her toned arms bare. Each move was efficient as she pulled half-and-half from the fridge and doctored her own cup of coffee.

Brooding on the couch wouldn’t get me out of her hair. I clutched my mug to my chest and sidled into the kitchen with my duffel bag over one shoulder.

“Okay if I use the bathroom?” I asked, wary of her mood. “I’m sorry about earlier. Wasn’t quite awake yet. I’ve been trying to get up early so I stay out of your way.”

“I noticed.” Her face scrunched up in a cute frown. Like I’d offended her. Not my intention.

“How about I make it up to you? I’ll cook for you and Vi tonight.”

She looked up from her toast, her expression curious. “You cook?” Her gaze seemed to get stuck somewhere south of my neck, and I bit back a smile. Maybe I should have pulled on a tee shirt before approaching her in the kitchen. It would have been the gentlemanly thing to do. Fatigue was messing with my head. Making me take risks.

“Not as well as you and Vi, but I get by.”

She dragged her eyes back up to mine. “Okay.”

Since my version of “good morning” had been a string of curses, I took her cautious acceptance as a win.

“I’m gonna get dressed and get to work. Text me if you need anything from the store. I’ll plan to swing by before dinner.”

Her second “okay” was more cheerful, more herself. Like maybe I’d wormed my way back into her good graces.

“Have a good day, honey.”

Chapter 12 – Anya

Replaying my morning with Drew kept me from truly focusing on my classes. The distraction felt like I was betraying the very heart of what yoga was meant to be, mindful and present. Instead of thoughts passing like clouds across blue sky, visions of Drew, shirtless, kept getting stuck on repeat. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was him, reclined and shirtless, floating across my field of vision.

Oddly enough, my daydreams reminded me of the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling. Maybe with a little less naked peen and demonic-looking angels and more low-slung flannel pajama pants, but the vibes were still oddly horny and awe-inspiring.

Anyone who saw Drew’s broad chest and impressive shoulders, coupled with the sprinkle of chest hair that trailed down his abs and disappeared into his sleep pants, wouldn’t blame me. He’d looked positively yummy. And I was making that judgment as a friend.

I snorted.Right.Because friends absolutely thought of you in the same breath as celestial murals.

Drew’s truck was parked in our driveway when I got home.