Worth It

He drew in a deep breath and then said, “Both of you.”



My eyebrows shot up. “Wow, you found two places? I couldn’t even find one. Are you sure they’re decent enough, because—”



“It’s a great place,” Pick assured with a nod. “I checked it out personally this morning. Perfect location, only about five minutes from here, decent price...two bedrooms.”



I squinted at him, trying to understand why it sounded like he was talking about one place instead of two. Then I shook my head. “I don’t understand. I don’t need a two-bedroom…” Both his expression and Knox’s had my mouth dropping open. “Wait, you don’t...you’re not actually suggesting we—the two of us—” I motioned between Knox and me. “Live together, are you?”



Pick shrugged. “You’ve always had a roommate before. And the last one was male, so—”



“Yeah, a male I was dating. Knox and I aren’t—”



“Hence the two bedrooms,” Pick added.



“But he hates me.” I pointed to the stony-faced man who hadn’t said a word since he’d come into the office.



A muscle in his jaw twitched as he glanced my way with a narrowed gaze. “I told you I didn’t.”



“Oh, so you support this idea? Because last night, you made it perfectly clear you wanted nothing to do with me ever.”



“Fuck, no. I don’t support this idea.” He seared his glare Pick’s way. “What’re you trying to play here, Ryan?”



Pick lifted his hands. “I’m not playing anything. You two already work together, you both need a place to stay fairly quickly, and you’re already familiar with each other. It’s the logical solution. You could split all the bills, and—”



“You need to stop talking right now.” I held up a hand. “Because nothing you’re saying sounds even remotely logical to me.”



“Look, I’m not trying to talk you guys into getting back together or even being friends. I know a lot of roommates who rarely see each other. You both need this place, and finding something to live in by yourselves is going to be nearly impossible…especially during the school year in a college town.”



“Is this because you need me out of your apartment?” Knox asked. “Because I’ll go. I’ll head over there and pack my shit right now—”



“No.” Pick clenched his teeth, beginning to look frustrated. Then he glanced at me. “Can you give us a second alone? Please?”



I gaped at him, my arms crossed tight over my chest. “To discuss my living arrangements? I don’t think so.”



“Felicity, just trust me.”



I let out a disgusted groan and rolled my eyes as I dropped my hands to my sides and then stormed from the office. The last thing I heard was Pick asking Knox to shut the door. Hurrying back to it, I pressed my ear to the wood as soon as it closed, but the damn thing was constructed way too well to hear through.



I frowned, maybe making out my name, the word locker, and then Knox’s deep voice with the words don’t believe tacked in there. Pick answered him, and Knox growled, “Damn it.”



A second later, the door flew open, and I tumbled forward, almost plowing flush into Knox’s chest. He pulled back and scowled at me. Once I’d caught my balance and smoothed down my clothes, he said, “We split every expense fifty-fifty. No exceptions.”



Then he brushed past me and stormed down the hall.



Unable to believe what I’d just heard, I whirled to Pick as I pointed after Knox. “Did he just...agree to live with me?”



Pick sent me a satisfied nod. “Yep.”



“What…how…” I shook my head, totally confused as a small part of me sparked with joy. No matter what the reason was, Knox had agreed to live with me. There really was something in him that didn’t totally hate me.



I swallowed, overcome with emotion. “What the hell did you say to him?”



Pick merely smiled, refusing to tell.



Today was the day. She was back.



Felicity had gone with her family to their summerhouse over two weeks ago, and earlier today, I’d seen their caravan of fancy cars returning home.



So, maybe I’d been staking out their house every day since they’d left, lingering in the woods closer to their backyard than I usually did in the hopes they might return early. I’d missed her more than I thought was humanly possible. It’d been like a constant niggle just under the breastbone, something I couldn’t scratch away or medicate. I swear, a part of me had been physically missing, and the two sections hadn’t reunited until I’d seen about four different cars pull into the Bainbridge property only three hours ago.