“Yo. Throw one on the grill for me.” Dylan, my other roommate, opens the French doors leading to the deck.
“Got you covered,” Jordy answers. He looks from me to Dylan. “Tell him about our dinner guest.”
“You’re making a big deal out of this.” I stab a T-bone steak with the grill fork and move it to a cooler spot on the grill.
Dylan grins. “Guest?”
The French door swings wide, and Veronica stands hesitantly in the opening. Her blonde hair is wet but combed. Her freshly-scrubbed face is a little pale. My clothes swallow her frame, making her look frailer than she has all day—which I didn’t think possible.
Still, there’s something undeniably appealing about her. She’s missing the hard-edged look of the girls my age who layer on makeup and dress like every minute is a runway opportunity.
It has to be the fact that she’s wearing my clothes. She looks like the little sister you want to protect.
Dylan seems to be the only one on the deck with brain cells not stunted by the sight of Veronica. “You must be an answer to my prayers,” he says to her.
She takes a step back inside. “Me?”
“I’m Dylan.” He holds out a hand. “I think you’re the best thing that’s happened to me all day.”
“Veronica, Dylan. Dylan, my friend Veronica. We ran into each other this morning.”
“He means I ran into his car.” She gives Dylan a nod, appearing not at all impressed with his flirting.
Dylan laughs and points at me. “I like her.”
“She’s serious.” I turn my back on them to tend the steaks. Dylan has a predatory gleam in his eyes that grates on my nerves.
“You don’t have to hit my car to get my attention.” Dylan’s voice is light and teasing.
“Veronica isn’t looking for a date,” I say without turning around.
“Can I use your hair dryer?” she asks.
“You can use anything you need.” I sit in the teak chair beside the grill as she closes the door and disappears.
“Girl cleans up nice.” Jordy leans back in his lounge chair and places both hands behind his neck. “I think she’s off-limits to us,” he says to Dylan.
Dylan grins. “So what’s up with her showering? Or did you two…”
Jordy gives a snort. “Not hardly. She looked like she’d been on a three-day-drunk when she—”
“Hey now.” I shoot him a burning look. “What’s your problem?”
“Nothing.” Jordy places his hand over his mouth, and a suspicious looking grin peeks out from one corner.
“You got something you want to say? Say it.” I fold my arms over my chest.
“So who is she?” Dylan loosens his tie with one hand and drops into the nearest chair.
This is the question I can’t answer. If I admit I picked up this strange girl off the street and plan on giving her a bed for the night, they’ll both commit me. So, I stretch the truth. “Veronica’s a sweetheart. A friend. She can’t stay at her place tonight, and I offered her the sofa. It’s not a big deal. I’d appreciate it if you guys would make her feel welcome.”
Jordy shoots me an odd look. “Sorry. Hey, didn’t mean to be a dick earlier.”
“Yeah, well. She was a little messy earlier.”
The French doors open and Veronica steps through. “Hi.” She hugs her body by wrapping her arms across her middle. The gesture draws attention to purple bruises lining her forearms and my stomach gives an unfriendly churn.
“What can I do to help?” Veronica only makes eye contact with me and I wonder if she’s unnerved by the fact she’s alone with three strangers. Three strangers who have no reason to treat her well.
“Not a thing,” Jordy answers. Getting out of his seat, he adjusts his ball cap and nods to me. “Almost ready?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Jordy heads to the door and I look to Dylan. “Can you give me and Veronica a minute to talk?”
“Sure,” he says. Dylan grabs the tie he’s removed and follows Jordy into the house. Veronica lingers at the threshold.
“I’d like to talk about you being here,” I say.
“Okay.”
“I don’t bring strange girls home.”
“So why me?”
I study her face—the way her widened eyes express her confusion. “I also want you to know you’re safe here. I don’t know what you’re running from, but well … I wanted you to know you don’t have to be afraid of anything.”
“Who says I’m afraid of something?”
“Who did that to you?” I point the grill tongs at her arms.
“Nobody. I fell.” She stands military straight, her head up.
We stare at each other in challenging silence. I wait for her to admit the lie. Veronica dares me to contradict her.
“I also wanted to let you know Jordy thinks we knew each other before today.”
“Why would he think that?”
“Because I implied it. Unless you want to answer questions, it’s best to pretend we’re old friends.”
“If we’re friends, you won’t care if I sleep in your bed.”
Chapter Four
Veronica
“Sleep in my bed?” Collin’s eyes widen comically. He pulls his head back sharply like he’s been slapped. The grill tongs drop onto the wood deck. It ka-klunks until it rests several inches from my feet.
I stoop to retrieve it. “Yeah. So I can lock the bedroom door. I didn’t mean sleep with you. And when you offered your couch, you didn’t mention there’d be a house full of guys.” Although my brother’s friends know better than to hit on me, these guys don’t.
“Dylan and Jordy wouldn’t mess with you. But go ahead and take my room for the night.”
“I know how guys are. What’s his name has been drinkin’ and your other roommate already hit on me.”
He eyes me speculatively. Walking slowly across the deck, he pauses with a slight frown tipping the corners of his mouth downward. “You must be hanging out with some real scum then. Nothing would happen here.”
“Easy to promise it now.” I say this nonchalantly, but I’m serious. “My brother always says that men think about sex twenty-five hours a day.”
“I’d say I’ve given you plenty of reasons to believe my word is good. I’m sorry somebody hurt you. But no one will lay a hand on you here.” He studies my arms. “The person who did that to you? You should go to the police. File a report.”
I want to tell him where he can stick his charity. Giving me a place to stay doesn’t mean he can pretend to understand what it feels like to be assaulted by someone you once trusted. “You know what? Forget it. The couch is fine.”
“Whatever—whoever—you’re running from … needs to be stopped. You’ve got to turn him in.”
“I can’t.” I hug myself, rubbing my hands up and down my arms. “It’s complicated.”
“Then tell me and I’ll help you figure it out.”