“Eleventh,” Bryce finished.
Beth’s mouth parted. “You know that?”
“The anonymous flowers at the nurses’ station last month…”
Beth gasped, eyes going wide. “That was you?!”
He just winked.
Bryce reached for his phone. “I want to get our calendars linked so you have my schedule. What’s your schedule like?” Bryce asked, knowing the new rotation would be out Monday. He’d pulled some strings—they wouldn’t always be on the same shifts, but they’d be working together more than before.
“Right now, I work Tuesday through Friday, 6:30 AM to 4:30 PM. Sundays I teach Sunday school at nine, Bible study Monday mornings at eight. Other than that, I run whenever I can. Which will be easier to fit in now that I live here.”
“Have you done the Jack Quinn’s 5K on Tuesday nights?” He asked as he updated his calendar app and sent her an invite.
Beth’s eyes lit up. “I love that run.”
“I’m signed up for next week. Want to join me?”
“Absolutely.”
Beth hesitated, then smiled. “Can I ask a personal question?”
Bryce took the bait, turning serious. “Of course, Lizzy. You can ask me anything.”
She leaned forward, mock serious. “Have you always been a neat freak?”
His shocked expression made her giggle.
“What? I’m not a neat freak,” he protested.
“Right. So, the loft isn’t organized with a place for everything and everything in its place? Even your storage unit had built-in shelves and labeled boxes.”
“I just like being able to find things easily.” He paused. “Your apartment was always tidy too. Does that make you a neat freak?”
Beth shrugged. “Kim liked it that way.”
“So, you don’t like things clean?”
“Clean, yes. But I can be messy. Is that going to bother you?”
Bryce studied her for a moment.
“Is it going to bother you if I pick up after you?” he asked, reaching for her hand and lacing their fingers together. When her only reply was a shrug, he added, “Living together takes adjusting. Sharing a room even more. But we’ll figure it out.”
Beth didn’t realize his words about sharing a room made the color drain from her face, but Bryce saw it.
The words ‘sharing a room’ rattled in her brain, sending a rush of panic through her system. The fragile comfort she had felt earlier—when it was just the two of them, making dinner, teasing each other—vanished in an instant.
Her fears, the ones she had shoved down and ignored since waking up in Vegas, clawed their way to the surface, threatening to consume her.
She needed space. Now.
Her eyes darted around the open floor plan she had just admired. Now it felt too exposed, offering nowhere to hide except for the bedroom or home gym. Neither felt like a good option.
Then, her brain latched onto a third escape.
“My reading cove!” she blurted.
