The Reckless Collision

Chapter Forty-Five

I pulled into the driveway, my eyes drifting over the familiar but impersonal house. There was still something sterile about it, something cold. It had never felt like home.

I inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the unease. I climbed out of the car, slammed the door shut, and moved to the back. The trunk popped open with a click, and I grabbed a few boxes—small things, just house items I needed. Logan had offered to help with the last-minute items, but I needed to be alone here. I needed to get used to the solitude, to the idea of making this place my own.

The police had questioned us twice now, digging into every detail of the mess that had become our lives. They said we needed to stay in L.A. until the investigation wrapped up, which was why I'd decided to bring Sam here. My family wasn't too happy about it, but I was done asking for their approval. I wasn't going to let them make decisions about Sam or me.

I dropped the boxes onto the kitchen island when I finally entered the house. It was exactly how I remembered it—spacious and open. The first floor was one big, continuous space. The living room connected to the kitchen at the back, and upfront, there was a foyer with a guest bathroom. Simple, nothing fancy.

I stood still for a moment, taking it all in. I'd been so caught up in everything with Sam, I hadn't even had the chance to make this place feel like home. But now I was here, and it was all on me to make it work. I would have to explain everything to Sam soon. I had to be honest about the house's history—the plans to sell it, the loneliness that came with it. She deserved to know. But that could wait for now.

The house was a mix of neutral tones, with enormous windows on every wall that let in a flood of natural light. It made the space feel airy and bright, almost too open. Framed posters adorned the walls, and plastic plants were scattered around, giving the place a sort of cozy, lived-in vibe. I'd debated getting real flowers, but Logan had insisted they would do wonders for the atmosphere, so I caved. Honestly, it didn't seem like a big deal, but I wasn't sure how Sam would feel about it once she got here.

"Looks homey," I heard from behind me, and I jumped slightly, caught off guard.

I turned quickly, narrowing my eyes as I stared at Andrew standing in the doorway. "You fucking scared me," I muttered, my hand instinctively going to my chest like he'd knocked the wind out of me.

He grinned, clearly amused. "Logan said you'd be here," he explained, glancing around the room, his eyes trailing over the space with mild curiosity. "And you left your door unlocked."

"I didn't think anyone would just barge in," I said, shaking my head as I opened a carton box. The sound of cardboard crinkling filled the silence between us.

Andrew smirked, rubbing the shaved side of his head. "I don't remember ever needing to knock," he said casually, "but I guess that's gonna change now that you won't be living alone."

I felt a brief flash of irritation. "I didn't mean it like that," I said, pulling a stack of kitchen towels out of the box. "But I guess that's true," I added, a little quieter. Things would change, I knew that. There was no way around it.

Andrew didn't seem to take offense. "It's fine," he said with a reassuring smile. "And I'm happy for both of you, Ray."

I looked at him, appreciating the sentiment but feeling a tightness in my chest. Things were changing, and not all of it felt like progress. "Thanks," I muttered, carrying the towels over to the kitchen cupboards. "Did Logan send you to check on me?" I asked as I started to organize the towels in a drawer, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Not really," Andrew replied, his voice light. "We haven't hung out in a few days, so I thought I'd drop by. Coffee would be nice," he added, his eyebrow quirking up in that familiar way.