“You paid for their flights,” she said, not a question or an accusation. A simple fact.
I didn’t bother pretending otherwise. “Yeah.”
She lifted her head to look at me more directly. “Why?”
“Because I asked how soon they could come,” I said easily. “It wouldn’t have been fair to expect them to fly in and have someone else pay for it, now would it?”
Her mouth curved, but there was something softer underneath it. Relief, maybe. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I wasn’t hiding it,” I said. “I just didn’t want it to become a thing. It’s logistics, Killer. Not leverage.”
She studied me for a long moment, then nodded once and tucked herself back against my side, obviously deciding to believe me. I hadn’t been lying about why I hadn’t told her, but it was still a good feeling to know that she trusted me and that she wasn’t so independent that every little thing would become an issue.
We finally got up, showered, dressed, and went downstairs for coffee. Jane rolled her eyes at me from behind the counter housing the machine when I suggested we could just buy some.
“Caffeine before we leave is non-negotiable,” she said like she was laying down the law. “Besides, why spend money on something when you’ve got a state-of-the-art appliance that can give you that same thing right here?”
I frowned, but the God’s honest truth was that I didn’t have an answer to that, so I didn’t argue. Coffee at home had the added benefit of getting to drink it with her in my arms on the couch too, so that definitely counted in its favor.
Once we were sufficiently caffeinated, we walked down the street bundled up against the cold, sharing a pastry and people-watching like tourists in our own city. I hadn’t done anything like it for a long time, and since it seemed that happiness made me incapable of subtlety, I found myself making a suggestion as soon as the thought occurred.
“Hey, while we’re out together, do you want to pick up a few things to keep at my place?”
“Like what?” she asked, looking up at me from where she was tucked under my arm, a cute white beanie on her head. “You already got me a few things.”
“Yeah, but more things,” I said. “Yourthings.”
She held my gaze for another beat, then nodded, and a few minutes later, I found myself in a container store. I honestly didn’t understand the concept. It was a warehouse full of boxes designed to hold other boxes, but Jane lit up like she’d been handed the keys to a kingdom.
She wandered the aisles, explaining the merits of drawer dividers and labeled bins with the intensity of someone who took pride in her organizational abilities. I picked up a clear plastic tray with far too many sections for any reasonable person to use it properly and frowned.
“No one needs this many compartments,” I said, holding it out to her. “What would you even use it for?”
“Trinkets.” She arched an eyebrow at me. “If you have as many trinkets as a woman does, you absolutely need that many compartments if you’re going to keep them organized.”
“Trinkets? Is that what we’re calling them?”
“Yes.”
I leaned in closer, murmuring against her ear. “Please tell me that’s code for sex toys.”
She laughed, flushing beet red before giving me a tiny, playful shove. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I groaned. “Oh, shit. That means you totally have sex toys. Which ones? Where are they? Can we?—”
She cut me off with a huff of laughter and took off down the aisle. I followed her around, carrying a basket that got heavier by the minute, and while she was lecturing me on sock organization, tossing a box at my chest with a grin, I realized that this was exactly what I wanted.
Quiet Saturday morning with her in my space, rearranging it and claiming it as her own in fun, practical ways. It meant we were finally taking a step forward, and it was insane how much I’d been longing for that to happen.
We were debating whether a set of matching hangers was worth it when she suddenly went still. She didn’t freeze. She wasn’t shocked or injured, just suddenly quiet. I knew the difference now.
“What?” I asked.
She swallowed hard, the column of her throat moving up and down with an almost nervous motion. “I didn’t tell you everything about that night.”
I turned to face her fully, not entirely sure what to expect, but knowing her, it wouldn’t be anything involving another man.I fucking hope. Or I might need to start cracking spines.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “What else is there? You went out for drinks and appetizers with Zara, right?”
