Page 26 of Saved By My Buyers

“I don’t think I’ve interacted with anyone for so long all summer,” I groan. “It’s a shock to the system.”

“People came up to me all day asking about the gorgeous girl with the dark curls,” Bee says, snuggling against me. “I wanted to tell them you were mine and to go away.”

“Where’s the lie, though,” I murmur, playing with her red hair. It’s so soft, sliding like silk through my fingers, but still springing back into curls. While my curl journey has come a long way, I still have bad hair days.

Bee’s lips curl in amusement as she shrugs. “I told them your name, and how amazing you are,” she says instead. “The point system means I can’t claim you completely. Getting along with everyone is kind of key.”

“Ugh, people are bad,” I complain. “Except you. I really like you.”

“Did you get homework yet?” she asks, waiting for me to nod. “Good, because I think I need to do homework with my favorite person.”

Bubbles of happiness fill me as I agree. I can at least find ways to enjoy my life during the day. I want to tell my mom about Gareth, but he’s threatened her several times. As absent as she’s been, I can’t risk it.

The car drops us off at the house, and we trudge inside with our backpacks.

“I need a snack, and maybe some coffee to be able to bounce back,” I confess as we head toward the kitchen.

“I think I saw some lemon pound cake,” Bee says, eyes sparkling. She's found out that one of my weaknesses is lemon pastries. I think that’s one of the things I love about her. I’ve always wondered if she tastes as good as she smells.

“Mmm, that sounds so good right now,” I murmur. Holland grins at us as we walk into the kitchen, preparing things for dinner.

“Hello, ladies,” he says as he works. “Need a snack until dinner?”

“Yes, please. I heard there may be lemon pound cake,” I say with a happy sigh.

Chuckling, he nods as he lifts a cover on the island.

“Go for it,” he says. “Dinner isn’t for a while yet. Good first day of school?”

I swear this may be the most adult conversation about my day that I get outside of my calls from Jack.

“It was long, and I’m going to make some coffee to go with my cake so I can do homework,” I tell him, heading to the single serve coffee machine.

“Dahlia doesn’t like people,” Bee hisses to Holland, making him snort.

“I get that,” he says with a nod. “I really do. Was anyone truly terrible?”

“Not at all,” I explain. “I usually work quietly, get my things done, and move on. I had to talk today and answer questions.”

“Blech,” Holland says, pretending to retch as he sets the oven to put a roast inside.

“Exactly,” I confirm as if we’re having a completely respectable conversation. Walking to the fridge, I grab my oatmilk to dress my coffee in my travel cup. Moaning happily, I also stir in the sugar before taking a sip.

“You sound like you’re having a religious experience,” Holland says wryly.

Bee’s eyes heat from across the room, making me almost choke. Holy shit.

“Coffee is a delicious experience, religious or otherwise,” I snark weakly as I cough.

Holland shakes his head as he places two pieces of pound cake on a plate and pushes it over to us.

“Let me get back to work,” he says. “Good luck getting that homework done. You’re going to be bouncing soon between the caffeine and the sugar.”

Holland grabs the oatmilk and puts it away for me, and Bee and I head upstairs. I think I heard that Gareth was working till late, and Mom was working second shift.

“Did my mom usually work the afternoon shift?” I ask as we walk upstairs. Bee doesn’t question why I’m asking, knowing that we don’t talk very much.

“It honestly changed pretty often,” she says. “Lucia picks up whatever shifts need to be worked, which is one of the reasons that the hospital begged to keep her. I don’t understand why she’s continuing to work so much, though.”

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