ADDICTED

22

He considered it and said he would go over my input with the board later. I felt a little giddy.

"By the way," I continued, "I've found some people with experience who might do well on an event committee. They've already shared a few ideas with me."

"Let's hear it," he said.

"I think it would come better from them. Besides, I want you to meet these people."

"Why?" he asked. "You don't believe in your ability to choose people?"

I snorted. "Of course I do. I just want to make sure that you approve. It's your ball and your foundation, after all."

"It's yours now, too."

His narrow, green eyes glittered, like butterfly wings in the sunlight.

"Sort of," I agreed with a half-hearted shrug. "Anyway, you have another meeting with a potential investor in ten."

—(—)—

The day carried on much the same.

Julia stayed downstairs for the entirety of it, mostly watching movies. Sometimes the floor shook from the surround sound of whatever she was watching.

James and I would share a look in those instances.

"You know," James was telling me while we packed up for the day, "she could use a friend. I think you probably could too. While she's here, at least."

I smiled at him. "Are you trying to set me up with your sister?"

"Sure. She does bite, though. I've warned you."

"Well, so do I. How am I supposed to make friends with her anyway? Isn't that a conflict of interest or something?"

He slung his briefcase over his shoulder. "I don't have office policies regarding staff relations. Yet. You'd better act now before I do, Miss Harris."

I rolled my eyes. "So dramatic."

We split ways in the hall. He went to his office and I made my way downstairs.

As I headed for my room, I poked my head into the living room. Julia noticed and immediately muted the television.

"Hey," I greeted, "did you see the bear?"

She shook her head. "You're all excited about it. I feel like I'm about to meet Brother Bear or something."

"Not sure this guy would be quite as friendly, but that's a solid movie choice."

"Right? They don't make movies like they used to."

We shared a chuckle and I felt a sharp pang of loneliness.

I missed my friends. I needed to visit them.

And maybe befriending Julia wouldn't be horrible.

It didn't seem fair that I knew so much more about her personal life than she did about mine—Jarrod told me about all the tragedies she's endured in the last year and a half.

This girl knew nothing about me except for what I did to her brother.

I ducked out of the room and shuffled down to mine. After changing into workout clothes, I sat on the bed and closed my eyes.

I'd been testing out yoga for months now in the hopes it would help me focus, mentally and psychologically. I knew it was more than just a hobby—it was a lifestyle and form of spirituality.

I admired those parts of it, but I mostly just wanted to integrate the pretzel-twisting and breath management into my life.

Sometimes it helped. I found myself focusing on the controlled rustle of my breaths until the sound of the television faded out.

Several thoughts continued to plague me, but I could tell my body at least had relaxed after this long day.

I unfolded my legs from their position and headed out to make dinner.

James hadn't beaten me to it and Julia still watched her show, so I quietly threw together a spinach salad and put some chicken in the oven to bake.

I hoped James wouldn't mind. If we were going to live together, though, I needed to go grocery shopping.

He came into the kitchen right then.

I turned just in time to catch him staring at my ass.

Rather than blush, I smiled a little to myself.

"We need to send for the rest of your things," he said, filling up a water bottle now at the fridge. "I can go with you tomorrow or this weekend if you want."

"Actually . . . I think I'm going away this weekend. But I will definitely get my stuff boxed up and put in storage. Thanks for reminding me."

"I have storage space here," he offered. Or commanded. Basically the same thing with him.

"I'll put my things up until I figure out something more permanent. You've been more generous than I deserve. I can handle this at the very least."

He made a ticking noise in the back of his throat but didn't push it. "I'm going for a run. That chicken smells . . . pleasant."

"Thanks," I beamed, feeling a little victorious. "I'm making some for everyone."

"Great. Don't wait up for me."

Then he took a slurp from his water bottle and walked out.

I tried not to admire his long muscular legs as he left, but I've never been one for self-control.