“It’s okay.” Hunter’s eyes crinkle, and I’m treated to bothdimples. “He likes you. And he’s happy for me. And he says if you feel weird about it, just give him a chunk of steak and he’ll go farther away next time.”
The wordsnext timering in my head because I so, so want there to be a next time. I want to come back to this house, to the beautiful views and immaculate quiet of the mountain. I want to see Hunter’s bedroom and find out what else he learned from his sister’s books. I want to give Bongo half a steak, especially when he looks up from his bed, tongue lolling and eyes laughing knowingly, and licks his lips.
There is indeed more chocolate mousse, and Hunter and I take turns eating it out of a mixing bowl with teaspoons while Bongo slurps up the remains of my dinner—or the parts of it that Hunter deems dog-safe. I turn on the hot water and start doing dishes, and Hunter protests a few times before he understands that I will in fact be helping to clean up and yes, I know not to put soap on his cast iron and to oil it afterward. It’s pleasantly homey, cleaning up together. We bump into each other with the friendly softness of pollen-heavy bumblebees colliding among the flowers. There’s an ease here I didn’t expect—that I didn’t even know was really possible.
And then the kitchen is spotless, and I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve had half a bottle of wine, which means I shouldn’t drive home, and to be honest I don’t particularly want to go there, not with a poltergeist stomping and slamming and bumping around. But I don’t want to be a burden, and even though tonight was absolutely wonderful, I don’t want it to go any further just yet. I put my hands in my back pockets and lean my hip against the island.
“Sooo…,” I start.
“I have a guest room, if you’d like to stay over,” Hunter offers.
Relief melts in my chest. “Yeah, I probably shouldn’t be driving. Thanks. Could I maybe borrow a tee and some shorts?”
He grins. “Of course. Come on up.”
Hunter leads me up a set of stairs to the second floor and opens a door to show a room with a puffy white hotel comforter, a pile of white pillows, and a cozy white rug on the gleaming wood floors.
“I don’t know much about decorating, but my sister says all white is easy. You just keep buying white shit, and it will always look like a fancy hotel,” he says a little sheepishly.
“Good thing it’s not that time of the month, or this place would look like a crime scene,” I murmur before realizing what I’ve just said out loud to a man who would know—intimately.
Luckily, he bursts out laughing. “Yeah, well, some of my towels are black, so I’m sure we’d be okay. Back in a minute with some pajamas.”
He leaves, and I turn back the comforter and desperately wish I’d brought a phone charger. Lo and behold, there is one—a couple, all white of course, attached to the white alarm clock.
When Hunter reappears, he puts a few folded items on the bed. The comforter is so fluffy that even a pile of clothes makes a dent. “So I went for soft stuff. Short-sleeve tee, long-sleeve tee, shorts, sweats. Take whatever you like. There’s a bathroom down the hall. I set out a toothbrush and towels, if you want to shower.”
“Do you have company often?” I ask nosily.
“Nope. Just my sister when her AC went out, and I shop at Costco, so there’s always extra sitting around. My room is at the end of the hall if you need anything. I’m going to take Bongo out and lock up.”
This is all so new for me that I’m waiting for him to waggle his eyebrows or straight-up ask for sex, but the vibe I’m getting isjust that he’s happy I’m here. Once he’s gone, I take a quick shower and put on the tee and shorts, which are huge on me but deliciously soft, brush my teeth, and slide into the bed. It’s cozy as hell, and yet…
It’s not what I actually want. I tiptoe down the hall and softly knock on Hunter’s cracked door.
“Come in.”
The room is dark, but I can see the outlines of a king bed and the glimmer of another huge bank of windows. Hunter is just a shadow under the covers.
“You okay?”
“I…” I don’t know what to say, how to ask for what I want. “I thought I heard a ghost.”
He flips the covers back. “Well, we can’t have that. Come over here, and I’ll keep you safe.”
I pad across the room and slide between the sheets, turning my back to Hunter. He pulls me close and tucks me into his chest, sighing like a happy dog. It’s barely a few breaths before he falls asleep, so I do, too.
I sleep through the night, wake to birdsong and the sunrise, and learn that Hunter makes a mean omelet.
Soon, I’m driving home, and everything is right in the world.
Until I open the unlocked door to my apartment.
Someone, it seems, has broken in.
34.
Whoever they are,the thief was…almost apologetic. A few things have been removed from their places, and some hastily and sloppily replaced, but I quickly realize that this was not a general robbery. I was burgled for one thing and one thing only.
