“Bathrooms and your ass on tap?” She laughs, but it’s full of giddiness. “You drive a hard bargain and other hard things, but I think I want to lie in this heavenly cloud of a mattress and just enjoy tonight for a little while. Is that okay?’

“More than okay.” I close the door and clean up. When I’m finished in the bathroom, I say, “It’s quiet out there.”

“I haven’t heard a thing.” Sitting up, she asks, “Do you think they heard us?”

“The man in the moon heard you.”

Flopping back on the bed, she sighs in horror. “So embarrassing.”

I open the door and look out. The bedroom door across the living room is ajar, but there’s no sound or sign of anyone else being here. “You’re safe. They’ve already left.”

“Excellent because I’ve been thinking about that kitchen island since we walked in.”

I’ve created a monster.

24

Harbor

I cleaned the apartment once Lark fell asleep.

She was exhausted. Just how she should be.

I was left wide awake with my thoughts clouding my better judgment. I shouldn’t want her to move in after a month of being together, but I meant what I said about her being here, sharing my space, taking up more than her fair share of the closet, and coming home to her each day.

The dishes were put in the dishwasher, the roses were collected and put back in the box, and then tossed in the garbage chute down the hall. No way was my girl getting secondhand flowers.

When she wakes, I can’t give her any of the things I bought, but I’ll be here with coffee and ready for a third round since she got her second round wish just over an hour ago.

It could be like this for the rest of the year. Us, together, here, alone. Breakfast after I hit the gym or go for a run, then driving, riding, or walking to school together. It will be so easy for us to combine our lives since our schedules are similar.

A life with Lark isn’t so foreign, but sharing the apartment could be nice. Noah wouldn’t be happy since he’d have to find another place for his hookups, but that’s the least of my concerns.

I leave my boxer briefs on when I return to the room since Lark fell asleep in another pair of mine. When I climb back into bed, time is creeping well into the morning hours. I lie next to her staring up at the ceiling. She closed the window shades, which is something I never do. I never worried before. There are no other buildings high enough to get a direct view into my room. Someone would really want to spy on me and need a telescope to make out anything I’m doing.

I still find comfort in the dark with her snuggled to my side. She gravitated over as soon as I was covered. I hold her, listening to her breathe, and hope she can calm my mind.