“Bringing out the big one first. Well, since my only other choice is to live with Flynn and Felisha and have to listen to them having sex constantly, I guess you are stuck with me.” I screw my nose up at the thought of third-wheeling every night with the two lovebirds and having to wear earmuffs to bed.

“That’s not a promise.” He is always so straight down the line in these discussions.

“True, but it’s the best you are going to get.” I laugh at him looking annoyed at my answer.

We spend the next twenty minutes just talking normal logistics of how we’ll function around each other. Entering his office when he is working, sharing the workload of cooking etc. which was important to me, and of course him taking money from me for my share of the food. This one we debated for a while, and things started to get heated, but finally he understood my need to be independent and never rely on a man. It takes all my strength to be here because it goes against everything I have lived by for such a long time, so thankfully he started to see why I need to pay my own way.

He wasn’t happy but gave in anyway.

By this time, we are both onto our third glass of red wine and it’s starting to make the conversation slide to topics that aren’t as straightforward.

“I don’t want to cramp your dating life by being here, so just message me not to come home and I’ll go to Felisha’s or stay at work.” I giggle as I say the next part. “Or you know, like in university, leave a sock on the door and I won’t enter.” While I start laughing, the reaction from Forrest is the complete opposite.

“Not happening. I won’t be dating and neither will you,” he barks out at me, so stern like there is absolutely no chance of negotiation on this point.

“You don’t rule my life, you are just my landlord for a very short time, Forrest. So put the asshole back in his box.”

“No, it’s non-negotiable. It’s too dangerous. End of story.” He sits farther forward on the couch, his muscles tense like he is ready for a fight.

“Sure, just freak the shit out of me so I never look at another man again. Seriously, Forrest.” Mirroring his position on the couch, I can feel myself starting to fire up too. “You can do what you like in your boring life, but this woman has needs, you know. So, who is going to take care of them? You?” His jaw clenches at my question, and he is up and pacing his living room after slamming his wine glass down on the coffee table, with a look on his face that I can’t determine, but it’s almost one of disgust.