“Yeah? That’s cool,” I tell her, even though I really don’t know much about either. I remember my grandma making stuff when I was little, but I don’t know if it was crocheting or knitting or something else.
“Thanks. I sat on my couch in my old apartment, so it’ll be nice to have a designated space to create and work.”
“I agree,” I tell her, thinking about my guest room, which contains home workout equipment and a collection of autobiographies. “What do you like to read?”
Her cheeks turn a deeper shade of red. “Uhh, romance mostly.”
I nod, trying to block the image my brain conjures up of Lizzie reading a steamy romance novel in bed, touching herself when the scene gets hot. It doesn’t work, of course, because my mind not only watches the scene play out, but it also invites me to join her on the bed. I look away and start to count backward from one hundred.
“Do you read?” she asks, her voice soft in curiosity, yet so fucking sexy at the same time.
“Yeah,” I state, clearing the desire from my throat. “I read autobiographies mostly. My favorite are musicians.”
“Really? I just finished Ozzy’s latest. The one he did before he passed.”
“No shit? I just finished that one too,” I tell her.
“My uncle Tank is a musician, even though he probably doesn’t consider himself one. He sings and plays guitar.”
“At the bar, right? I’ve heard about that,” I confirm, earning a smile.
“Yeah, he has quite a following, even after all these years. Anyway, come on and I’ll show you the rest of the apartment.”
We exit the small, unfinished space and walk across the hall. I can tell right away it’s her bedroom, and not just because of the queen-sized bed sitting in the middle of the room. It’s freshly painted and already feels like her. It’s bright and cheerful, and even though it still needs work, I can tell she’s putting herself into the room.
“Aunt BJ is finishing up the second coat of trim,” Lizzie states when the woman on the step stool turns our way.
“Last wall,” she confirms. “You could probably move your bed tonight, but if it were me, I’d just leave it in the middle until tomorrow.”
“Makes sense,” Lizzie replies. “New carpet will be installed soon, and that’ll help it feel a little cozier. My dad and uncles ripped up all the carpets earlier because they were nasty.”
“I can imagine.”
We exit the bedroom and stop at the other door in the hallway. When she opens it, I almost shudder. “Bathroom needs…work.”
It’s a small bathroom straight out of the seventies. “Yikes.”
She giggles and shakes her head. “Avocado green and some shade of gold. Not only that, but they’re in pretty rough shape. Chuck said he had the water shut off up here for decades, so itdidn’t cause problems. It was all pretty dirty and a little stained, so we cleaned it the best we could for now, but eventually, it all needs replacing.”
“It all takes time,” I state, stepping out of the small space. Not only does it smell like her, but I catch sight of her personal items, like her shampoo, bodywash, and razor in the shower, and her hair brush and small bag of makeup sitting on the vanity.
I need to get out of here. Even with her family stuffed in practically every corner of the apartment, my thoughts are less than appropriate. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I put the deposit in the safe and the drawer in the cubby hole. I assume that’s still where it’s all supposed to go?”
Lizzie nods, following me into the hallway and toward the kitchen. “Yes, for now. I might look into some changes a bit later, after I get a new computer system, but everyone knows the process and it works, so why change it?”
“All right, well, I’ll leave you to it.” I head for the door, feeling everyone’s eyes on me as I go.
“Oh, can we talk soon about your work schedule? Everything is set through Wednesday, but after that, I’m on my own,” she replies with a chuckle. “I want to make sure I understand your other job.”
“Uhh, sure. I’m off tomorrow.”
“Great, can you drop by? I’m working all day tomorrow, since Guy has some appointments.”
I nod. “I can do that. See you then.” To the rest of the group, I offer a quick, “Good night,” which earns me a round of returned well wishes as I head out.
The moment I hit the cab of my truck; my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and smile when I see my friend’s name.
Wyatt
