Page 21 of Safe With Me

“It is, but it’s not like Philly’s that far away. You can always visit, right?”

Her body tensed up, not as badly as when she’d discovered her flat tire, but I could see the tension shoot across her shoulders.

“I could. Eventually,” she whispered almost to herself. “When I’m not busy,” she said, clearing her throat. When she lifted her head, her smile was tight and forced. “Your father has a lot of work for me to do.”

“I heard,” I said, trying not to dwell on why the idea of a visit back to Philly unnerved her so much. “I really didn’t think that his old office manager had made that much of a mess.”

“Oh, believe me, she did,” she told me with a slow nod. “But I don’t mind. I like the work. Can I make you a cup of coffee or something? I have that beer you asked for, and Terry gave me a chunk of the lemon meringue pie she made.”

“She does make a mean lemon meringue, but no thank you. I will take that beer in a minute, though.”

I set the photo onto the hook, inching back to see if it was straight.

“Take a look. Is this where you want it?”

“It’s perfect,” she said as she padded over to the wall. “Maybe Kathy was right. It’s nice to look at something other than white walls.”

In the picture, Lila beamed at the camera, her arms draped around the guy and girl on either side of her, all wearing Phillies caps with a stadium backdrop behind them.

“I take it you’re a Phillies fan.”

“I am,” she said. “This is my best friend and a college friend of ours who was in town at the time. It was a good night. I’m a big Philly sports fan, which I’m guessing I should keep quiet here.”

She squinted at me, handing me a second black-framed picture.

“If you’re at The Pour House and watching a Phillies and Yankees game, probably.” I smiled and lined up the second picture behind the couch. “There are a few diehard Yankee fans who might take offense. Football and hockey aren’t as bad.”

“So, if the Eagles play the Giants and I’m watching at the bar, I can screamGo Birds?” Her full lips curled into a smirk. When she relaxed enough to be a little playful, it was fucking adorable.

“Maybe I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Noted,” she said with a chuckle, coming close enough to make me stop tapping the nail into the wall.

“I bought this picture when I first moved in to my old apartment. It’s a dopey picture of a rose I found at a home goods store, but I thought it looked cool.” She reached over me, tracing the red foil of the petals over the glass. “I didn’t really decoratethere either. I had a couple of pictures up, but I never replaced the old furniture when I moved in.”

“Once my father stops working you to the bone, maybe you can get a few things.” I set the photo onto the wall.

“I bought a dresser, so that’s progress.” She pointed to the large box leaning against the wall. “It’s supposed to be easy to put together, but I haven’t been brave enough to make an attempt.” She lifted a shoulder. “But that was more for necessity since my clothes are mostly still in my suitcase.”

“I can do that for you. Just tell me where you want it.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Mike, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t. I’m offering. That, I’ll need a piece of pie for, though.”

I tapped her chin with my knuckle before I could help myself. She peered up at me, her full lips parting a bit as our eyes locked. It was a tiny gesture and more random than inappropriate, but it ignited a spark between us, at least from where I was standing.

I took a half step back on instinct as Lila’s eyes bored into mine with something else I couldn’t ignore. Tapping someone on the chin shouldn’t have been intimate enough to almost send me into a trance.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, and you can tell me where you want it.”

Her brows jumped, another blush painting her cheeks.

“I mean,” I said, groaning as I let my head fall back. “Let me take this into the bedroom, and you can tell me where you’d like me to put it together. Unless you want me to leave?—”

Her shoulders shook with a chuckle as she draped her hand over my bicep.

“I know what you meant. No need to be embarrassed. And honestly—” she swept her gaze around the room “—it’s nice to have someone to talk to who isn’t on a screen. And it would beamazing to stop feeling like I’m living out of a suitcase. So, thank you. For what you’re doing, and for being here.”

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