“And you promise not to organize a passive-aggressive chore list and stick it to the fridge?” I joked.
He thought for a moment before smiling. “I can’t promise that.”
I couldn’t help but notice he must have forgotten to shave today. A trace of stubble shadowed his chin; barely a five o’clock shadow. Maybe staying over at my place had thrown off his routine. I hadn’t known Reid long, but so far he had never been anything other than perfectly put together and clean shaven. I liked this almost imperceptible crack in his polish.
“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands together. “I’ll let you get settled in before Ruby gets here with the food.”
Then he was gone, closing the door softly behind him.
I fell back onto the bed, letting the plush comforter embrace me. Even though he said he never came in this room, it smelled like him. Reid struck me as the kind of guy who would buy the same scent for everything—candles, soap, air freshener. I liked it, though. Leather and spice. Subtle and soft, but it still lingered everywhere.
I picked up a pillow and breathed in the scent. Yep. Reid was definitely the kind of person who purchased room spray. Whatever the hell that was.
My suitcase begged to stay in its open state so that I could rifle through it any time I needed something—and make a progressively bigger mess as the days went on. But I wanted to be a good house guest, which was why I pulled open a dresser drawer and started to unpack my clothes.
I wasn’t the unpacking type on trips, so it felt strange just dumping my stuff into a foreign dresser. Admittedly, I hadn’thad many opportunities to pack and unpack lately. Or ever. When would I find the time or money to travel? The last trip I’d been on was up north for a night, to a casino. There was a show Gran had wanted to see, so we’d left Paul behind and gone, just us two. We’d splurged on the cheapest hotel room they had, drank too many margaritas, and spent too much money at the slot machines. We’d had a blast.
It was the last trip I’d taken with her.
I hadn’t realized it would be the last at the time.
My hands folded, and bunched, and refolded the same sweater before I stuffed it in the drawer. I was torn between chasing down the memory to savor it or running away.
Instead, I forced my thoughts to stay on the present moment. Specifically, how surprisinglynot weirdthis was. Being at Reid’s. A place like this should, theoretically, leave me feeling suffocated, like I couldn’t breathe without wrinkling the duvet or breaking something. But Reid, and even his house, had a calming energy. I liked being here—around him. And despite my earlier confidence that everything was going to be fine, I was actually happy not to be alone right now.
It wasn’t even about the safety aspect. It was lonely in that apartment. I’d moved there after breaking up with Paul, and it was the only place I’d lived by myself. Despite packing the space from floor to ceiling in an effort to feel something, it remained stubbornly void of life—like all the energy had quietly slipped out while I wasn’t looking.
Which was strange.
Because here I was, settling into the blandest guest bedroom I’d ever seen at the home of a guy I hardly knew.
And yet…for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel quite so empty.
“Pizza is here.”
Ruby held up two brown boxes like an offering. Reid had already produced three matching plates from a cabinet.
“Wow, fancy,” I said, taking one.
“I suppose you usually just eat out of the box,” he said before taking the boxes from Ruby and setting them on his impossibly clean stone island.
“Sometimes, I grab a piece of paper towel.”
His grin widened. He produced a roll of paper towels from underneath the sink and handed them to me. “Make yourself at home.”
“I’m so glad you’re here, Hazel,” Ruby said, not waiting for us before grabbing a slice of pepperoni pizza and setting it on her plate. She dabbed at the pizza grease with a paper towel. “You shouldn’t be in that apartment right now. Reid is always going on about some cold case, and it’s disgusting what people are capable of. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“I am notalwaysgoing on about some cold case,” Reid muttered.
“Always,” Ruby insisted. “Even when we beg him not to.”
I chuckled. It was fun seeing Reid and Ruby interact. They had that sibling energy I’d only seen on sitcoms.
“I do feel safer,” I said. I swore Reid’s cheeks flushed when I glanced over at him.
Ruby gave me a warm smile and said, “Good.”
I liked Ruby. She’d always been sweet, and had made an effort to include me as soon as I started at the salon. I think we were right on the verge of becoming real friends when Gran died. That kind of hit pause on everything. Grieving was awful, but it was also…awkward. Everyone at the salon had been kind and thoughtful, but there was something strange about mourning in front of people who barely knew me. Their sympathy came by the bucketfuls, but no one knew her—or me—enough to make a difference. They pitied me from a safe distance instead of crying next to me.
