Page 75 of Rosie and the Beast Next Door

My skates skidded to a stop, and tears ran down my cheeks for the first time since Shiloh died. The cold wetness stung my skin, but I let them fall. Even when I felt the warm body of Rosie behind me, holding me tight, as if she had the power to keep all the pieces of me from shattering.

I turned into her arms and held her close, breathing in her comforting and familiar scent. She didn’t say anything, but just her presence was enough to loosen my chest and help me take a full breath.

She stepped back and cupped my cheeks in her hands. Her hands were cool, but warmer than my face, as she brushed some of the tears away. I should be embarrassed, probably, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t be with Rosie.

“I left the keys on the bench.” She nodded her head to the side where I saw a glint of silver. “You’ve got the place to yourself all night.”

Gratitude filled me, and I pulled her back into my arms for an embrace that lifted her off her feet. I buried my face into her neck. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Then as she walked away and I heard the door closing behind her, I started to skate again, slower this time. And I let every memory of Shiloh come.

Chapter 29

Rosie

Forrester Sibling Group Chat

Rosie: The rumor is true.

Jules: Which one?

Rosie: Dylan Savage is as good a kisser as he is hockey player.

Rosie: Are you there?

Rosie: Why isn’t anyone responding?

Rosie: Brooootherrrs.

Haydn: We need time to process this development.

Jules: And we’d appreciate a maturity rating on any further texts that will contain graphic depictions.

Bennett: I thought the relationship was fake!???

Rosie: The relationship may be fake, but the kissing was oh, so VERY real.

Jules: Blocked

It took me solong to fall asleep, I was offended when freezing cold water dripped onto my face and woke me up. I flailed in my bed, stuck in my heavy covers, and accidentally kicked the step stool I’d been using to do an above-water scene near the ceiling before I heard Dylan finally come home and could relax.

My bedsheets and blankets were damp.

I flipped on my lamp, but it remained dark. Ugh. The power was out. I used my phone’s flashlight and shined it around to see that my entire bedroom floor was covered in a shiny pool of water. I must have been in a deep sleep not to hear this happen.

Lizzy scratched at the door with high-pitched trills. Oh, poor furless thing. If her heated blanket wasn’t working, she’d be freezing.

Outside, the storm raged, and with a surge of wind, more water trickled from an ominous bubble in the ceiling onto my bed.

I let out a squeal as more of the chilly water splashed onto my skin.

“Rosie? What’s wrong?” Dylan’s muffled voice boomed through the wall.

A huge chunk of ceiling collapsed, and freezing, filthy water cascaded over me like a waterfall. I don’t know what sound I made next, but it was enough for Dylan to kick in my door and be standing in my bedroom doorway in the next blink. I scrambled to my feet on my bed, my pajamas sticking to me like an icy second skin.

His eyes were wide with shock as he took in the mess of my bedroom, and then me.

“I have a leak.” The words trembled out through my shaking lips.

---