Page 83 of Buckin' Around

I mean, Spencer’s alright, too, I guess.

Guilt tumbles in instantly when I remember that would mean leaving my own flesh and blood.

I can’t do it.

I can’t do it to my brothers, or the twins.

I can’t do it to Chlo.

I spin around, and Spencer’s hold drops away. “No, Spence. I’ll take the sofa, but that’s it.”

His jawline tenses as he nods, forcing a smile that never reaches those intense blue eyes of his.

I need some air.

I stalk out into the sunshine and cross the grassy area between the cottage and the main homestead. Brady is sitting on an old, weathered porch swing that was once painted white.

I ascend the few steps on his porch, and he stands.

“Everything to your liking then?” he asks.

“It’s Spencer who needs to be okay with it, Brady.” His gaze hits the floor. “But it will be fine. Thank you, for Ivy’s sake.”

“But not for Spencer’s, hey?” His dark eyes are homed in on mine now.

“I didn’t?—”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay, Riley. I get it.”

His expression is a tangle of knowing and sadness. It makes me wonder who is keepinghimat arm’s length.

Ives and me are home alone, and it’s bliss. It took all of half a day to move my few possessions and Spencer’s couple of boxes into the cottage, and I spent the next few hours doing my best to make this place a home for him and Ivy.

The crib is still dismantled and the TV is leaning against the living room wall, but I’ve put together the beds and moved in the rest of the furniture pieces. Our clothes and smaller items are still packed. But I’ll be working on my papers that are due before I attempt any more unpacking.

Honestly, I’m looking forward to the cottage project. It’s been a long time since I’ve had something to plan and execute by myself that didn’t include five siblings or a whole ton of logistics.

I’m grateful Spencer left the house setup and decisions to me.

A little tired but content, I make myself a tea while Ivy sleeps on her play mat, and I tap Chlo’s number. We’ve both been busy with life. This is the first time we’ve video called in weeks.

God, I miss her.

She picks up on the third ring.

“Riles!” Her room skips upward as she drops onto her bed. The wall moves in a similar fashion as she lies down, her pretty dark hair hitting the pillow. Her dark eyes, like mine, are lit up as they scan the screen.

“Hey Chlo, how you doing?”

“Urgh, Declan is a pain in my ass over this science exam I have next week. Otherwise, things are fine. When are you coming home?”

She asks that first up every time I call.

It’s sweet.

And it makes my chest tight. Every single time.

“A little under six months. I’ll be back for Christmas, remember?”