Page 12 of Keep Me Safe

I let out a shaky sigh.

“I don’t know what to say. I’m losing my apartment. I failed.”

“Don’t say that. This is not your fault,”he asserts.

When I don’t respond, he brings his hand to my chin, guiding me to look at him. My stomach flips, heat radiating from his touch.

We’ve never been this close before.

“You’re moving in with us,” he says firmly.

I shake my head, “No, you don’t have to do that. I’m not your responsibility.”

“Princess,” his knuckles graze my jaw before he drops his hand.

“You’ll always be my responsibility.”

A soft knock sounds at the door, and Noah stands to get it. Jared emerges from the doorway, carrying two large bags of what looks like Chinese food. I chuckle to myself. That’s going to be way too much.

The three of us sit cross-legged on my bed, takeout containers spread out between us. Jared put onMarried At First Sight—one of our favorites—and he’s completely immersed, nodding along as if he were part of the drama unfolding on screen. I push a noodle around with my chopsticks, my appetite coming andgoing in waves.

Noah glances at me more than once, and every time, my stomach tightens. I can’t shake what he said earlier. I don’t want him to think I’m some helpless girl who needs to be taken care of.

Eventually, the boys gather their things. Jared gives me a reassuring squeeze on the leg before heading for the door.“You can move in tomorrow if you want,” he says with a grin.

I let out a small laugh.“It’ll take me more than a day to pack up my entire life.”

But not much longer than that.

A week passes, and my apartment looks nothing like it once did. The walls are bare, the counters empty, my life compressed into a handful of worn-out boxes. It turns out I don’t own much.

Today’s the day. By sunset, I’ll be at the lake house.

Jared and Noah are supposed to be here soon to help me finish moving, and I remind myself, again, that this is temporary.

Just a stepping stone until I get back on my feet. But no matter how many times I repeat it, the bitter taste of failure lingers. My mother was right. I couldn’t do it on my own.

A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. Jared bursts in, energy buzzing off him, and within minutes, we’re loading the last of my things into Noah’s truck. It happens too fast, too smoothly. Before I know it, the place is empty.

I linger in the doorway, fingers tightening around my key. Shame presses against my ribs like a vice. Turning back, I let my gaze sweep across the apartment one last time as if searching for some proof that this wasn’t all for nothing.

I find none.

With a slow breath, I lock the door behind me.

The drive to the lake house is quiet, just the hum of the engine and the rhythmic beat of my own thoughts. I follow behind Noah, my hands tightening on the wheel. Despite everything, a small part of me is relieved. Excited, even.

The lake house has always felt more like home than my mother’s ever did. It’s where I spent summer nights wrapped in a blanket on the dock, where laughter echoed against the water, where I felt—safe.

Carrying the last box up the narrow staircase, I step into the guest room. Warm afternoon light filters through the large eight-pane window, casting golden streaks across the wooden floors. The sloped ceiling makes the space feel tucked away, almost like a secret. The four-poster bed dominates the room, draped in soft, ivory linens. Matching nightstands frame either side, and the vanity sits in the corner, waiting for me.

For the first time in days, my chest loosens.

I set the box down gently and run my hand over the smooth surface of the dresser. Then, with a quiet sigh, I start unpacking.

chapter four

noah

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