Here. Sorry I was a jerk when you moved in.
No.
Absolutely not.
I move quickly before I can talk myself out of it.
I step into the living room and set the bag down near her painting, angled so she’ll see it immediately.
I don’t linger, but head for the stairs immediately, my pulse thudding harder than it should.
Coward.
I strip off my shirt when I reach my bedroom, tossing it somewhere behind me. My body aches from training.
I take a quick shower, letting the hot water pound against my shoulders until the worst of the tightness fades.
Afterward, I pull on a pair of sweats and grab a book from my nightstand, more out of habit than real interest.
By the time I get into bed, the house is quiet.
I stare at the ceiling, hands folded behind my head, wondering how she’ll react when she finds the gift.
I hope she likes it.
I exhale slowly, closing my eyes.
Sleep starts creeping in around the edges.
Then—
A shriek.
I bolt upright instantly, adrenaline punching through the fog.
Footsteps thunder up the stairs.
Fast.
Uncontrolled.
My door flies open.
Talia stands there, breathless, eyes wide, clutching the leather sketchbook to her chest like it’s oxygen.
Her face is lit up.
Not just happy.
Radiant.
“Oh my God,” she says.
Before I can even react, she crosses the room in three quick steps and throws her arms around me.
Her body collides with mine, warm and solid, and for a second I freeze completely.
Her cheek presses against my shoulder. Her arms wrap around my neck. The sketchbook gets crushed between us.
