“This might be the most comfortable bed I’ve ever felt. Is it a queen?”
“Yeah.”
I’ll have to buy some new sheets, but it doesn’t even matter because I’m in heaven. The cream headboard with matching nightstands and mirrored closet look like something straight off Pinterest. Who knew this guy had such good taste?
“We’ll be sharing a bathroom. Hope that’s okay.”
Right. Totally forgot to ask about the whole bathroom situation. If it’s as clean as the rest of this place, that shouldn’t be a problem. “It’s fine with me if it’s fine with you.”
“Wouldn’t have suggested you move in if it wasn’t. You need help with your stuff?”
Reluctantly, I push myself off the luxurious mattress. “I’ll get it. You’ve done enough.”
If he sees the state of my car, he’ll absolutely change his mind about giving me the spare room.
It’s not that I’m a messy person. I’ve just been busy lately and?—
Oh, who am I kidding? I’m a slob.
That ends now. I’m not going to do anything to screw this up.
I take the steps two at a time, breathing heavily by the time I get to my car. Before I grab the next box, I collect all the takeout containers and receipts and the random assortment of other crap that I’ve collected and haul it all into the dumpster.
Then I grab the pizza inside so Elliott can enjoy a slice while I move in.
My suitcase bumps along behind me. Did I mention it only has three wheels? Don’t know when that happened.
Elliott meets me at the bottom of the stairs, picks the thing right up, and carries it to my room.
I’m an idiot for not taking him up on his offer to stay in the first place. It would’ve been a lot easier to move all my worldly possessions right down the hall—something Elliott reminds me of every time we pass each other in the stairwell. But I felt so guilty and helpless and upset, and he seemed to like his own space, so I didn’t want to impose.
Thank goodness he’s letting me impose. Otherwise, I would’ve left that weird house and driven straight to Maryland. I wouldn’t have even worried about the boxes left in his truck.
When I return with the last armload of stuff, Elliott is on his phone. He looks up from the screen, then stuffs the handset into his pocket to relieve me of the box. “I’m gonna grab a drink with August.”
A pang of disappointment spreads through my core. “You don’t want any pizza?” I bought a large so we could share.
“Just put what you don’t eat in the fridge, and I’ll have some when I get back. You want me to pick anything up for you while I’m out?”
It’s silly to feel disappointed that he’s not going to be here this evening. What did I expect? That he’d help me unpack and we could Netflix and chill on the leather couch? Get it together, Loren. “No, thanks. I’m good.”
I venture into the bathroom that smells like him. There aren’t any toothpaste stains in the sink or spit marks on the mirror. The shower is mold-free, but there’s no shower curtain, only a clear plastic liner. That won’t work at all. What if I accidentally walk in while he’s showering? Not that I don’t know how to knock.
Still, better safe than sorry.
I grab my shower curtain from the suitcase. If Elliott hates it, I’ll buy a new one. He doesn’t have any throw pillows either. Not to worry. I can pick up a few from the store when I head out to buy sheets.
After I finish getting everything set up, I eat four pieces of pizza, not because it’s good, but because I’m drowning my sorrows in cheese and pepperoni. Doesn’t really help. You know what does? The bottle of wine I wash it down with when I get back from Target.
Do you ever have those days where everything feels like a slog?
Today was one of those.
Even checking my email felt like a monumental task. I’d blame it on stress and lack of sleep, but I slept like the dead last night.
Maybe I’m about to start my period. It’s all doom and gloom when that happens.
When I finally get back to Elliott’s, all I want is to curl up and die, but I’m also starving, so dinner first and then death.
