Page 263 of Burn Bright
Move in together.
He says it so casually. Like it’s an easy next step, and maybe it would be. Sharing his company has brought me literal happy-go-lucky joy, and he hasn’t grown tired of Too Much Harriet. Some might say living with a boyfriend isn’t always a recipe for good times. But I’ve lived with people who only bring darkness and misery.
My parents. My mom. Her exes.
A TV remote to the face. Insults to the mind.
The real bad times.
Those don’t exist with Ben. We could be battling a thousand demons together. He could be struggling with his OCD. I could be a mopey grump cocooned in my Hello Kitty blanket, and still, it wouldn’t touch that kind ofbad.
All Ben has ever done is shelter me, love me, care for me.
But I also want to make sure I’m doing the same for him. So I shake my head when he suggests we move in together.
His confusion downturns his lips. “Too fast for you?”
“It’s not that.” I’m glad his arm is still around my shoulders. “You’re on the road to recovery. I think you need your brothersmore than you need to be living alone with me. I’m going to be busy, but they’ll always be around. One of them, at least.”
I imagine Ben all by his lonesome in an apartment while I’m doing research or volunteering or at office hours or possibly in a recording studio. Now, more than ever, he needs his four older brothers.
That’s why they wanted him in New York in the first place. I can’t derail this path—one that he’s mentally tried to derail himself. In a bad,badway.
“Hear me out,” Ben begins to smile. “You and me. Livingwithmy brothers.”
I snort into a laugh.
“I’m serious.”
Oh…now I feel bad. “On the couch?” I ask. He’s still been on the pull-out since returning from Alaska.
“They’d consider moving to a bigger place, I think.”
“You think?”
He sucks in a breath. “Okay, maybe not that, but I think they might consider renovating. Buying the unit next door. Knocking down a wall. If it’s possible…” He trails off like it’s probably not. I bet there are fire codes and red tape. “They did talk about buying the building when I first moved in.”
Holy shit.
“The building?” I widen my eyes, shaking my head slowly. “Just when I forgot you’re all trust fund babies.”
“That reminds me, I’m getting you back for the drinks.” He pulls out his phone to send me cash. “They’re on me.”
Uh,fuck.I wish I didn’t mention money. My stomach nosedives. “Don’t worry about it.” I scuff the pavement with my boot.
“You’re grimacing, Fisher.”
And he clearly knows something is up now.Good one, Harriet.I’ve been seriously stalling on addressing this topic, but I just go for it. “I met Gordon.”
“Gordon…” His eyes superglue to me like he’s a frozen search engine. “Gordon Brown?”
“Your estate lawyer, that’s the one.” I snap my fingers into a half-hearted finger-gun.
His chest falls, and he takes off his beanie with a heavy sigh, raking a hand through his hair. “He contacted you?”
“When you were in Alaska,” I nod. “He wanted me to sign some documents.”
“Great, yeah, he wasn’t supposed to do that. Not until January.” He runs another hand into his thick hair. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
