10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

P ixie stepped into the kitchen, paint splatters marking her hands, arms, and shirt.

The Conservatory of Flowers visit hadn't lasted long. Eva had shut down since she'd gotten that phone call, and she wasn't sharing with her or Micah. And when they'd returned to the condo, Eva had muttered an excuse about running an errand and bolted.

"Do you think she'll be back for dinner?" Micah asked, stirring at the pot of pasta he cooked, along with some sort of simmering sauce.

"I'm here for dinner," Pixie said, her stomach rumbling. The moment they'd gotten home, she'd locked herself in her studio. The memory of Eva's dark eyes lighting up in the conservatory, how she'd been delighted by the plants, had fueled her inspiration, and her fingers itched to paint. Fuck, in the mere weeks since the woman started staying with them, Pixie had produced more paintings than she had in the past six months.

Micah furrowed his brow. "She isn't responding to my texts. I don't know who could've called to freak her out like that. Our folks?"

"Maybe her exes." Pixie grabbed plates and silverware out of the cupboard.

"What exes?" Micah asked, his voice sharp.

Oops. Pixie wrinkled her nose. She hadn't realized Eva had only shared that information with her, not her brother. Maybe Eva was just as bad as she was at letting people in.

Yet she'd told Pixie.

"Uh, she mentioned some ex-boyfriend back in Reno." Pixie set the plates on the small kitchen table with a clink, and she returned for silverware and glasses, avoiding Micah's gaze. One look and he'd suss her out. That was how the card tower crumbled.

"I've been so involved in my own shit since she got here. I should've checked in more."

"None of that." With a sigh, Pixie plopped down on one of the wooden chairs. She hadn't realized how long she'd been standing at her easel until now that her aching legs were protesting. This was why she needed a Dom. She could barely take care of herself. "The timing might've sucked, but neither of you could help the big changes going on in your lives. Your parents' homophobic bullshit was huge, but so was the situation with you and Parker."

Odd to think that at the beginning of Eva's visit, Micah had walked away from Parker because he needed commitment and the man claimed he'd never be able to form attachments. Micah had broken him of that faulty belief—to everyone's relief.

If only her own issues could be resolved so neatly.

"Food ready yet?" she asked.

"The more you ask, the longer it'll take."

"Okay, brat," she said, pushing up to go pour them some water.

The door creaked open, and she froze.

Eva entered, strands slipped from her usually pin-perfect bun, her blouse rumpled. Her face was devoid of emotion as if it had all been sapped from her earlier. A delicateness surrounded her, like one small blow would make her shatter. Her heart squeezed tight at seeing Eva wrecked like this. Something had seriously gone wrong.

"Want dinner?" Micah asked.

"Sorry I just left," Eva said. "What can I help with?"

"Taking a seat." Pixie pointed to the table set for three. She carried the glasses over, plunked onto a chair, and pushed another out with her foot.

Micah slid the chicken breasts from the cutting board into a skillet, the sizzling filling the kitchen, along with the savory scents of garlic and butter. "Food's almost done." He grabbed the strainer for the pasta next.

Eva took a step forward, then stopped as if she didn't know what to do. Pixie gestured at the open seat beside her.

Thankfully, Eva took her up on the offer.

The woman spilled into the seat like her limbs were jelly. "Fuck."

Pixie licked her lips. She wanted to ask, but she also didn't want to push.

"He's selling the house," Eva said, her voice cracking. Micah tensed but didn't say anything. Pixie remained quiet as well. What was Eva referring to?

Eva let out a heavy, resigned breath. "After Jack and Sienna left me, Jack was still going to sell me the house. Except now he's keeping it, which means when I return home, I've got to start from scratch."

Oh no .

Pixie's heart hurt. Not only had Eva gone through that upheaval at home, but now her plans, her future, were in jeopardy.

"When were you going to tell me about the ex?" Micah asked, his tone a little sharper. Pixie recognized the hurt, and guilt crept through her because she'd known when he hadn't.

"You had your own issues to deal with when I showed up," Eva said, trying to smooth down some of the errant strands of hair. "I didn't want to burden you with more. Besides, I figured I'd be going home and getting back to normal, just without Jack and Sienna."

"Two exes?" Micah's brows crept higher as he carried the chicken to the kitchen table. "Clearly, I've underestimated your lifestyle."

A faint grin lifted her lips.

Pixie swallowed hard. Micah had no idea how filthy his sister could be—and how much Pixie liked it.

"What are you going to do?" Pixie asked, needing to derail the train of thought.

Eva shrugged. "I started looking into apartments in Reno, but to be honest, my heart's not in it. My work is remote, so truthfully, I can be anywhere."

Here. Eva could be here.

But she quickly squashed the hope sparking inside her. Eva was still Micah's sister, and truth be told, Pixie hadn't heard back from Francis about the resident position. That could change everything.

Micah met her gaze in the wordless communication they'd perfected years ago. Pixie nodded.

"If you need to crash here longer, you can," Pixie said. That was a dangerous-as-fuck proposition, but the idea of Eva heading back to Reno, no one awaiting her there, no home to return to, drove a dagger straight through her heart .

Micah placed the pasta on the table, along with a bowl of green beans. He was far better at cooking than her because he actually paid attention to the food he made. She tended to burn things with the way she wandered away at a moment's notice when she realized she forgot to send something in the mail she meant to three days prior or an alarm went off on her phone to remind her to take her meds.

Part of it was her own mind's rebellion. After an entire childhood of being responsible, she'd completely given up in adulthood.

"Eat up." Micah sat opposite her. "Eva, you don't have to decide about your living arrangements yet. But like Pix said, the couch is open, and I'm not going to kick you out. And fuck the asshole who went back on his agreement."

"I'd offer to enact vigilante justice, but we all know I'd be the worst assassin." Pixie slid the chicken breast on her plate and scooped up some cavatappi and green beans.

"You'd probably apologize to your target before deciding to quit the job," Micah joked.

Eva didn't say anything, but she took a few tentative bites of the food, which Pixie counted as a win. Eva's shoulders sagged as if she was weighed down by the heaviness of her predicament, and Pixie wanted to curl up against her to offer her solace any way she needed.

Whether it was cuddling on the couch or kneeling before her and obeying every command.

"You'd be a much better assassin," Pixie teased Micah. "You're a vicious little thing."

Eva's lips upturned the slightest bit. "You're not wrong there. The lengths he went to for payback against Jerry in high school were admirable. "

Micah shrugged. "The guy wouldn't stop picking on me, and I couldn't afford to get caught. And he was the idiot cheating on his girlfriend."

"Planting the fake pregnancy test in his locker and watching him dive-bomb with both girls was a stroke of genius."

Pixie snorted. That sounded like Micah. Observant and resourceful.

She shifted in her seat, and her leg bumped against Eva's. Against her better judgment, she didn't pull back. The warmth of her silken skin sent a zing to her pussy, and need trickled through her. Eva didn't move her leg back either, and Pixie's heart thumped a little harder. They were careful not to look at each other, even though the connection flared between them hotter than ever.

Pixie took another bite of the pasta, smothered with whatever garlic and butter sauce Micah had whipped up. "This is delicious." She thrived on days like this, when she and Micah spent time together. Why was she even considering the resident position? Her best friend had returned to San Francisco. Her family was at Whipped. And her mother lived an hour away, though that always swung back and forth between the pros and cons column of staying, depending on where she was.

However, when the loneliness swept in, the suffocating isolation…

Eva let out a shaky breath. "Seriously, I owe both of you so much."

Micah brandished his fork. "What have you done with my bossy, snarky older sister? If you keep up with this nice shit, I'm kicking you out."

"Please, like you aren't at Parker's every other night," Pixie said.

Micah's lips twitched with a grin .

"I'll be out of your hair before we start getting into fights over the correct way to load the dishwasher," Eva said, her shoulders relaxing. "Considering you still do it wrong."

Her snark came as a relief after her wrecked look earlier. Eva seemed like the nesting sort based on the way she liked to take care of others, so losing her home would be devastating. Pixie couldn't fathom having roots like that. Even this condo felt like a temporary space, somewhere she inhabited before she got dragged to a new location. Just another symptom of the way she'd grown up.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. Her mother, as if the thought alone had summoned her.

She glanced to the picture attached—one of Maisie with a bunch of other ladies, all holding up their canvases filled with splashy abstract paintings. The text read Reiki Expression Night, which fit for her crew. This was her mother's way of trying to bond, to reach out and share common interests, but all the effort made Pixie want to do was step farther away.

Art had always been her refuge. The second she got her hands on paints in her first art class, it had been the escape that saved her, and the idea of sharing that with her mother soured her stomach. Which of course cycled into feeling like a garbage daughter because her mom had turned her entire life around. She'd climbed out of a wreckage few managed to, and Pixie was so damn proud of her.

She just had way too much shrapnel to still pick out.

"You okay, Pix?" Micah asked.

"Yeah, my mom sent me pics from her class." She slid her phone into her pocket and forced a smile. None of her friends knew the depth of what she'd survived, just that she had a hippie mom who lived in the area and an absent father who resided god knew where .

The only person she'd revealed anything personal to was Eva, and that was an anomaly.

Their gazes met, and Pixie swallowed hard.

The lost look in those dark eyes reached right inside her chest and tugged at her heart, and maybe that was why she'd spilled to her. Eva seemed a kindred spirit, unable to let people in, even when she was drowning. And Pixie's nature had drawn her to others like that over and over as if she tried to fix herself while helping them. However, every time they walked away healed while she ended up further behind.

She could think of a million and one reasons why she shouldn't indulge in the attraction bursting between Eva and her.

Yet when the woman looked her way, a flare burned bright inside her.

She'd let temptation walk right in through the door and offered it a place to stay.