chapter three

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IT SHOULDN'T BE this easy to be around him. I spent all of high school hoping to be in his presence, and now I'm here, living with him, and it really shouldn't be so simple. He's so unfazed by all of this, that I almost don't believe it's actually happening. There should be some kind of fight on his part, an argument at least. I should have had to beg, but he did it without hesitation.

We're not strangers, but I wouldn't say we're friends either. He was already out of high school when I moved to Malibu, but he's close with his family, and that meant I spent a lot of time at his house. It was for Stevie, of course, but any chance I got to spend a little time with him, I jumped at it.

But he's my best friend's big brother, and he should stay that way.

He needs to stay that way.

"Give me your keys," he says as he extends his hand. "I'll go grab your stuff."

"Oh," I say. "You don't have to do that. I can do it. Besides, I have to find a new place to park since I'm not really a visitor anymore."

"That's perfect then. I can show you to my other parking spot," he says and takes the three steps down into the living room. He stops when he sees I'm still frozen in place, still trying to process. I'm living with Greyson Alexander. I think my head might explode. "You coming?"

"Yes, sorry," I say with a nod, digging through my purse for my keys before following him out into the hallway. "Are you sure this is okay? It's not going to be awkward?"

"Why would it be awkward? It's not like you're a stranger, Robyn."

"Yeah, but we're not exactly friends either."

He turns his head and cocks an eyebrow. "You don't think we're friends?"

"You do?"

"Yeah, I'd say we're friends. Unless you don't want to be."

"No! No, I do," I argue, surprised by him once again. "I just didn't think you thought we were."

He smiles gently in my direction before scoping the parking lot. "Where's your car?"

"Just this way." I point in the general direction before stepping that way.

"I'll have to get you a key fob for the underground garage," he explains as he approaches the driver's side of my car.

"Underground garage?" I eye him over the roof as I hit the button on my keys, unlocking the doors. "How fancy is this place?"

"Not fancy, just secure," he says with a chuckle before climbing into the driver's seat. He starts my car with a press of a button, giving it a second to warm up before reversing out of the stall, and pulling around to the underground garage on the other side of the building.

When we get inside, I spot his Jeep instantly and twiddle my thumbs because I don't know what to say. I can still remember the very first time I met Greyson, and how utterly tongue tied I was because of him. Moving to Malibu had been hard, especially when I made no friends in my first year there. I was miserable and the thought of going to high school with no one was terrifying, but I did it and then I met Stevie, and for the first time in a really long time I connected with someone.

Stevie's always sprouted kindness. It's nearly impossible for the girl to be mean, and she made me comfortable despite not knowing me. It baffled me how she was so easy to be around, especially knowing she grew up not sure who she could trust, but that's what happens when you have a famous dad. Everyone wants something to get to him, and they used her, or Greyson, or the twins to do it, and yet, they're still the nicest people I've ever met.

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