Exiting the elevator, and crossing my entryway, we reach the open-plan lounge. I’ve occupied this floor for two years, so I’ve made it mine. Some of the features weren’t altered—the dark gray floor, the chimney and Oxford-style shelving in the reading corner—but my interior decorator changed the rest. The walls are dark teal, with gold accents: lights, curtains, the feet of the marble table, a few cushions on the soft velvet sofas. A large hanging light illuminates the center of the room. It’s a nice space to relax in.

I show her around. My kitchen’s smaller than the one downstairs, but it has the essentials. The smaller bedroom, I turned into my office.

“There’s space for another desk,” I note out loud. “I’ll order one.”

Next, I take her to the spare bedroom—hers. It and mine are twins, each with a small walk-in closet and an en suite. It has a shower rather than a bathtub, but I know it’s a hell of a lot nicer than her dorm room.

“And I’m across the hallway,” I say, tilting my head towards my door. “You saw it yesterday.”

Claire’s still standing in the middle of the room, speechless.

I grin. “You can decorate. I know it’s all a little gray.”

She recovers herself enough to whisper. “Thank you.”

That’s as much of an acknowledgement that we’re doing this as I’m going to get from my adorable little prude.

“I’ll get some of the guys to move your things. Rest. You’ve had a long day.” Before I leave, I ask, “Would you like anything specific for dinner? We have a cook. As it’s your first night here, he’ll take your request—even if I don’t doubt he’ll pout about the short notice.”

“Oh, erm, no. I’m not fussy.”

“I didn’t ask if you were fussy. Is there anything you’d like to eat?” I repeat patiently, knowing that it’s more about her than me.

She’s not used to having a choice.

“I don’t know. I like steak? I don’t often have it.”

I smile. “Steak, then.”

We have a long way to go. But I believe I understand her enough to know, without a single doubt, that I’m going to enjoy the end result. And every step of the way.

24. Claire

24

CLAIRE

It’s crazy. This entire place, and the fact that I’m here, is positively insane.

Who has a designer apartment in college? His floor looks right out of a magazine’s front page. Something entitled Modern Bachelor.

And this is my room. In exchange, he wants…no. I’m not letting myself think about what he wants.