Finally, it was Waverly who broke the silence. "It's not that good of a question," she said. "His condo's thirty minutes away. So of course he'd want to stay closer to the site to keep an eye on things." Her gaze slid to Brody. "Me too. We run a very tight ship."
It was a decent story. But I wasn't buying it.
And judging from Brody's continued silence, the story wasn't quite as simple as Waverly had made it sound.
I was still trying to figure it out when Waverly turned back to Brody and practically purred, "So, should we shower before we go?"
We?
Did that mean what I thought it meant?
I mean, sure, if they wanted to hop into the shower together, it was none of my business. And yet, an odd empty feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't even hunger. It was something worse.
Disappointment.
What on Earth was wrong with me, anyway?
I didn't even like Brody. And besides, I wasn't the type to get naked with someone just because they were pretty – not that Brody had ever offered.
In the end, I turned away with some off-handed comment about ordering pizza for myself, only to turn back at the sound of Brody's voice.
"Sounds good," he said. "Make sure there's pepperoni. My treat."
Next to him, Waverly sputtered, "Pizza? Seriously?"
He gave her a look. "You got something against pizza?"
"No. Definitely not," she stammered. "I love pizza. It's just that…" She lowered her voice. "I was thinking of something more intimate."
He glanced in the general direction of the driveway. "You've got a car," he said. "So get whatever. I won't stop you."
I looked to Waverly. "Wait, you have a car?"
"Of course I do," she said. "Don't you?"
"Not at the moment," I admitted. "But even you didn't have a car yesterday."
"Well I do now," she said. "It was just delivered. So where's your car?"
I bit my lip. "Actually, I'm sort of between cars at the moment."
With a sly smile, she asked, "So how'd you get here?"
"I, um, got a ride, actually."
"Yeah," she said with a laugh. "In a Greyhound bus." She looked to Brody as if sharing a secret joke. "We saw the ticket, remember?"
Heat flooded my face. "When?"
Waverly was still laughing. "Last night, when you were hiding in the bathroom."
"I wasn't hiding," I said. "I was talking to my cousin." I turned and gave Brody an accusing look. "And you went through my stuff?"
He frowned. "That's what you think?"
Before I could answer, Waverly chimed in, "Oh, please. We didn't go through anything. The ticket was just sitting out there for anyone to see."
Damn it. She was right. I'd left that stupid bus ticket along with some other receipts on the dresser. Tonight, I vowed, I'd rip the ticket to shreds and burn the pieces.
But for now, I still felt violated – or maybe I was just embarrassed by the fact that I was twenty-four and had no car of my own.
Again, I looked to Brody, and it struck me all over again how different his life had turned out compared to mine. He probably had a dozen cars and a dozen houses. But me, I had zero of both.
When our gazes met, he gave me a look that I couldn’t quite decipher. Our gazes held, and the moment stretched out longer than it should've.
The moment – or whatever it was – might've lasted even longer, if not for Waverly practically jumping between us to announce, "On second thought, pizza sounds fabulous."
In the end, it was pretty fabulous. At Brody's suggestion, I ordered it from a local place, not a national chain. By the time it arrived, Brody had already showered – alone, by the way – and had dressed in dark running pants, along with yet another T-shirt.
He looked amazing as usual, even while he paid the driver and gave him a tip so generous, the guy smiled like it was Christmas morning.
Afterward, all three of us ate together in the living room. There wasn't a ton of conversation, but there was more than enough to hold my interest. I was especially interested to learn that Brody and Waverly had dined last night not at Brody's condo, but at a sandwich place on the opposite side of the river. And, if Waverly's demeanor was any indicator, she'd seen his condo only from the outside.
In passing, I also learned that the film crew was staying at a local hotel, and that a full team of construction workers would be on-site the very next morning.
Apparently, this included Brody's two brothers – Chase and Mason.
By the time I crawled into bed, I was actually looking forward to the next day's activities. It would be interesting. And I'd get a sense of how quickly the house might be restored to its former glory.
But then, when the morning actually arrived, the experience proved to be anything but glorious.
Chapter 32
Arden
A male voice from somewhere behind me said, "What are you doing here?"
At the sound, I almost flinched. He'd said it like an accusation, not a question.
Slowly, I turned to look. And there he was, Mason Blastoviak – Brody's oldest brother. He wore jeans, a denim work shirt, and a scowl so ominous, I felt myself swallow.
I'd never met the guy in person, but I'd seen him plenty of times on TV.
On screen – and in real life – he looked a lot like Brody, with the same square jaw and the same muscular build. But there were plenty of differences, too. His hair was shorter, his eyes were darker, and his mouth was compressed so tight, I took an involuntary step backward.
I was standing out in the front yard of what used to my grandparent's place. Around us, construction workers were busy lugging around tools and supplies while Roy and Jerry wandered through the commotion, filming as they went.
It wasn't quite eight o'clock in the morning, and I'd been trying to stay out of
