"This is a bad idea," I breathed.
"The worst."
"We should?—"
"We should."
But neither of us moved. The pull was too strong, the space between us too charged. I could feel the heatradiating off him, could see the pulse jumping in his throat, could?—
His phone buzzed.
We jerked apart.
He grabbed it from the coffee table, frowning at the screen. "It's your building super."
"At 2 a.m.? How did he get your number?"
"I pulled some strings. Made some calls." He scanned the message. "Text says the water's been shut off but your apartment will be inaccessible for a week while they do the repairs. 'Sorry for the inconvenience.'" Callum's voice was dry. "He put it in quotes."
The spell was broken. Reality came flooding back—my flooded apartment, my temporary displacement, the careful boundaries we kept almost crossing.
"I'm truly homeless," I said, stricken. "What am I going to do?"
"You're not homeless, Willow. The guest bedroom is yours as long as you need."
He meant it. I could see the genuine offer in his gaze and I didn't know how to feel about it.
Instead, I rose. "I'm going to try and get some sleep." I'd figure things out in a few hours. Current events were messing with my head and I couldn't be trusted to make the right decision right now. "Goodnight, Callum."
"Goodnight, Willow."
Morning came with the smell of coffee and the uncomfortable awareness that I'd agreed to live with Callum Hayes for a week.
I found him in the kitchen, already dressed in one of his immaculate suits, pouring from a French press into two cups. He slid one across the island as I shuffled in, still wearing his clothes, hair a disaster.
"Sleep okay?" he asked.
"Eventually. You?"
"Eventually."
We didn't mention the piano. Didn't mention how close we'd come to kissing before his phone intervened. Didn't mention the fact that we'd be repeating this strange domestic dance for the next seven days.
"I need to get to stop by my apartment and grab some clothes,” I said. “I can’t go to work in your sweats and t-shirt.”
"I can drop you by your building on my way to the office. You can grab what you need."
“You don’t need to do that. I can drive. I don’t want to disrupt your schedule.”
“If that’s what you want to do,” he said. “But it would be just as easy to ride together seeing as we’re temporary roommates.”
Silence stretched between us, loaded with all the things we weren't saying.
"Willow."
"Yeah?"
He paused, coffee cup halfway to his mouth. “It’s probably a good idea to talk about our new living situation. Ground rules, and such.”
