“I’m serious though. You’ve got a glow to you. What secrets are you harbouring?” Ren could always sense a change in me, no matter how subtle.
“Just you wait,” I told him, unlocking the door. The most security this building saw was the constantly locked door. You needed a key to get in, but some tenants would prop it open with a brick. On those nights, it was a little harder to sleep.
We walked up the flight of stairs to my apartment, and I unlocked the door. Mrs. Hewitt’s door opened quickly, and I waved at her.
“Another man?” Mrs. Hewitt croaked judgmentally, like the peach she was. “Girls today are far too loose.”
Ren and I looked at each other and busted out laughing. He swept at the corner of his eyes. “I missed Mrs. Hewitt. I’m glad she still lives across the hall.”
“Me too,” I confessed. “I feel much safer with her around.” I thought of Tuesday night.
“I bet,” Ren cackled, shaking his head. His dark brown hair was impeccably styled in a side part pompadour. He’d lost some weight and looked a little older. “Now what’s this about another man?” He arched a brow.
“Well, she may have caught me making out with this guy I met at a bar,” I replied airily. Renly gaped at me.
“Excuse me? You brought home a guy from the bar? Tell me everything!” he said, steering me into the living room.
At the sound of our voices, Dahmer waltzed down the hall. Ren halted, spotting the cat.
“What is that?” he asked, pointed at him with a bewildered expression on his face.
“I got a cat.” I shrugged.
“When?”
“The day after you left.” I grinned. “It was really quiet without you, and without—“
“Thundercunt Twatwaffle,” Ren supplied helpfully. “Good riddance to him. He was far too bland for you. Now dish.”
“I will.” I sucked in my bottom lip, clapping my hands together. “But first…I thought I heard you say something about mojitos?”
“Ah, yes. You do have wonderful hearing, although your eyesight is crap.”
I smirked, enjoying his ribbing. Ren unzipped his duffle, pulling out a brown paper LCBO bag and a plastic sack. He headed to the kitchen, making himself right at home as he rooted through my cupboards for two tumblers and a plastic cutting board. He removed the lime juice from the plastic bag and set everything on the counter.
“Be a doll and get the sugar?” he asked, batting his lashes at me while he pulled open drawers and looked for a teaspoon.
He chopped the mint leaves, mushing them against the sides of the glass like his full-time job was bartending, not designing houses on a Canadian home improvement television network.
“Do people recognize you in the street yet?” I joked, removing the sugar from the cupboard and placing it beside the limes.
“Ha, sometimes,” Ren admitted. “But don’t change the subject. I’ve been patient enough. Spill.”
“Kelsey dragged me out last Friday and told me I needed to find a rebound.”
“I always said your sister was smart,” he remarked. “Go on.” He blinked impatiently at me as if I’d stopped talking on my own accord. It made me laugh.
“Well, she also happens to be an incredible wingman. I ended up hooking up with this sexy guy. I’m talking tattooed Thor, with long flowing locks and a beard and everything.”
“Sounds delightfully barbaric,” Ren commented, shivering. He grabbed the ice tray from the freezer and filled each glass two-thirds of the way with cracked ice.
“Right? And he was huge, too. Like, six-foot-twoandpacking a long schlong. I almost didn’t know how to handle it.”
Ren laughed loudly, nearly spilling the rum he was pouring into each glass when his arm jerked. “I hope you figured it out.”
“I did,” I said proudly. “It was awesome. But it was only a one-time thing. He made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t looking for a relationship, and I’m not either, so…”
“So…” Ren shook his head, waiting for me to continue. “What’s the problem, exactly?”
