Shared - Page 19

thbrush would’ve been cathartic to say the least, but unfortunately, it just wasn’t in me.

I wandered back through the house in a daze, looking at everything one last time. The kitchen, where Garrett and I had hosted fun dinner parties. The living room, where we’d lounge around on Sundays binge-watching shows on TV. Memories flooded back; recollections of happier times filled with hope and ambition and what I always thought would be a future together. A life.

A lump formed in my throat.

Let it go…

In the end, closing the door was easier than I thought. There was nothing for me there anymore. Nothing but ghosts. I got in the car and wiped at my eyes. There were hardly even any tears.

Good.

I drove away blasting the radio, listening to the most cheerful station I could find. The lump in my throat slowly subsided. By the time I got back near the campus, I actually felt good. Strangely light and unencumbered.

With no classes to teach, I took the first half of the day to run errands. With the second half, I looked for a new place. The apartments complexes near the University were beautiful but expensive. Way out of my league. There were a few cheaper alternatives — renting out a single room, or the basement of a house — but those were too depressing to consider. At least on day one.

In the end I had a lot of information, phone numbers, and people to call back tomorrow. For tonight though, I wanted to relax. At least as much as someone homeless and nursing a bad breakup could relax, anyway.

It was dark by the time I turned back onto the campus. Pushing on the shiny new door handle I entered a house that was warm and welcoming — not at all like the construction site it had been these past few weeks. And clean too! Whatever my helpers were doing, they were certainly doing a lot of it.

The guys were waiting for me in the living room when I arrived. I found them lounging on a new set of leather couches, watching a large flat-screen television.

“You got the cable working!” I exclaimed happily.

They smiled warmly, each of them getting up to greet me with a hug. Brandon took my coat. Hunter handed me a glass of wine. It felt incredible, the human contact. Being around people who cared for and appreciated me, especially after the day I’d had, almost brought me to tears.

“TV’s all hooked up,” said Brandon. “And the internet.”

Colin pressed a piece of paper into my hand. “That’s the wi-fi password.”

“Uh… thanks.”

“We also got the locks changed,” said Hunter, “front and back.” He handed me a small ring of keys. “Here you go. We already made copies.”

They guided me over to one of the couches, which were soft and comfortable. Brandon sat on one side, Hunter on the other.

“You hungry?” asked Colin, clapping his hands together.

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before; the delicious smell of something wafting in from the kitchen. Meat? Spices? Whatever it was, it set my mouth watering.

“Yes!” My stomach rumbled. I came to the odd realization hadn’t eaten all day.

“Good,” he winked, before disappearing into the kitchen. “Ten minutes!”

I sat there for a little while, just answering questions about my day. I was stunned by their hospitality. Overwhelmed by how nice they were being to me. Maybe it was just because they knew my predicament, but even if it was I didn’t care. It had been years since anyone had paid me this much attention. Much less three college hunks with gorgeous bodies, square-cut jaws, and just the right amount of stubble.

“You alright?” Hunter asked, when my wine glass was more than half empty. He placed his hand over mine.

“I am now,” I smiled.

“We were kind of worried about you,” said Brandon.

“Don’t be. I’m gonna be just peachy.”

They smiled back — genuinely rather than placatingly — as they refilled my glass. Already I could feel the heat from the wine flush in my cheeks. Sometime since I’d arrived, my head had stopped spinning. Being around the boys, my heart had stopped hurting too.

“Let’s eat!” Colin called out loudly from the other room.

Eleven

Tags: Krista Wolf Erotic
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