Rowdy || 18+ || RH

Chapter 11

Emersyn

Living with the guys for a week now has been like trying to navigate through a tornado. Fowler wasn't kidding about how chaotic their schedules are. They are almost never home or awake at the same time.

I'm learning that their jobs are incredibly demanding. Locke and Cruz, with their more structured careers, sometimes work super late into the night, leaving the house eerily quiet. Marx seems to live at his bar, only waking up in time for dinner and then heading out again. It's almost like he's a nocturnal creature.

And then there's Fowler. His work schedule is as erratic and grueling as Valarie's. He's often working multiple days in a row, pulling double shifts, and coming home utterly exhausted. His dedication to his job is admirable, but I can't help but worry about him. I know how much Valarie's job takes out of her and I know Fowler's is much the same.

This morning is one of those moments when the house is eerily quiet as I reflect on the past week. I'm sipping on my coffee, looking out the window, and marveling at how different life is now compared to just a week ago.

The guys may have unpredictable schedules, but they've quickly become more than just strangers sharing a living space. We've shared meals, laughter, and even a memorable day exploring the city with Fowler.

But as much as I've enjoyed these moments, the chaotic schedules have made it challenging to feel fully settled. The house often feels empty, each of us caught up in our demanding lives. Well, the guys, at least. I've still been moping around the house when I'm alone. My heart still hasn't fully settled from the loss of my job and relationship. Losing Lyle wasn't really that big of a loss, but losing my only long-term relationship was.

I've applied to probably two dozen jobs by now, but haven't heard a thing from any of them. The severance package from my old job finally deposited into my bank account, so I have that. It's a nice safety net, but I swear to God I'm going to lose my mind if I stay stuck in this house any longer.

The clattering sound of the back door startles me from my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. I turn to see Cruz walking into the kitchen, dressed in worn-out gardening clothes. His long curly brown hair is once again pulled into a low ponytail. I wonder if he ever wears it down. I bet it would look beautiful.

"Cruz?" I ask, surprised. "Why are you home? You're usually working on Fridays."

He offers a calm smile, his tall and lanky frame leaning against the kitchen counter. "We finished a project early, took the day off. Thought I'd use it to clean up the garden a bit."

His hands, covered in a thin layer of dirt, reach for a glass of water. I notice how strong and skilled they look.

"That sounds like a nice way to spend the day," I say, my eyes still on his hands.

He looks up, catching my gaze, and his eyes twinkle with a gentle invitation. "You want to join me? Could use a hand, and it might be a nice distraction from being cooped up in the house."

It's almost like he is reading my mind. His offer is tempting. The thought of being outside, working on something tangible, is suddenly very appealing. And Cruz's calm demeanor has a soothing effect on me.

"You know, that actually sounds great," I reply, setting down my coffee. "I haven't done much gardening before, though. You'll have to show me the ropes."

Cruz's smile broadens, and he strides over to the sink to wash his hands. "No problem at all. It's simple work, and I think you'll enjoy it. Plus, it'll give us a chance to chat."

I can't help but smile back, feeling a genuine connection with Cruz. He's different from the others, more grounded and peaceful. It's a refreshing change from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the house.