Slamming the car door shut,Flora stomped up her apartment stairs; Dylan followed suit. Stopping in the middle of the staircase, she turned around, jutting her hip and crossing her arms.
“Why do you refuse to just sleep on my couch? Is it not to your liking? What’s wrong with my apartment?” Flora fired out. She knew sleeping in his car had to be uncomfortable as hell.
“Flora, your apartment is beautiful, but we’ve had this conversation. Boundaries are important,” Dylan said.
“At least tell me why?” Flora pouted as she continued up the stairs.
“Boundaries.”
Flora huffed, yanking open her apartment door. She moved to the side to let Dylan enter first, as she’d been doing since he came along. He glanced around the outside and searched the whole apartment before he allowed her to step inside. The warm breeze outside was nice, but if their arrangement lasted until winter, it would get too cold for him to sleep in his car.
“Would you prefer to sleep on a bed? You could have mine and I could sleep on the couch,” Flora offered.
“Hell no — why would you even offer? You won’t let this go, will you?” Following her into the kitchen, he leaned against the counter. His long sleeve shirt pulled tight across his chest as he leaned back on his arms.
She was staring — hardcore ogling — and couldn’t stop.
“No, I won’t. Unless it is you that is uncomfortable. Don’t worry about me being uncomfortable because I’m not. I would feel safer if you were in the apartment,” Flora rambled.
Opening up about her feelings was too easy with Dylan. Things were different now that someone actually tried to attack her. They couldn’t figure out who did it; damn scent blockers prevented the wolves from scenting whoever it was. Fear crawled up Flora’s neck as the memory of being attacked came back. She wasn’t alone yet, and she sure wanted to keep it that way. “If it makes you that uncomfortable, then I’ll call Willow or Luxe to stay in the apartment with me. I’m sure it’s no big deal.”
“Don’t,” Dylan spoke, reaching for Flora’s hand. “I’ll stay in the apartment, but keep in mind that I’m here. I respect your privacy, so don’t accidentally shift.”
“Is that what you're worried about, me breaking my own secret? I won’t shift...out of comfort for thebothof us,” Flora pointed out, rounding the couch, and pulling out pillows and blankets. “So, do you want the couch or the bed? I don’t mind; both are comfy.”
“Couch,” Dylan responded awkwardly, tapping each of his fingers on the counter as she laid out the blankets and pillows. Shuffling his feet slowly toward the couch, he sat on the edge.
“See? All comfy,” Flora said, feeling accomplished. She was overdoing it with the plethora of pillows and blankets, but she just wanted him to be comfortable.
After "good night" and a last-minute security check, Flora headed to her own bed. A giddy feeling flowed from her stomach and into her chest. She hid a bursting smile from Dylan.
Dylan was in the apartment. If something happened, he would be right there and that feeling let her fall asleep peacefully for the first time since she'd spotted her attacker.
* * *
The next morningwould set the tone for the rest of Dylan’s stay. Waking up, she tried to go through her morning routine as she normally would. Yet she couldn’t help trying to be somewhat quiet. Flora hadn’t meant to wake Dylan, but she could tell she already did. Even with her music playing, she could hear his footsteps through the house, another noise that brought her comfort. She stopped listening when she heard him reach the bathroom, giving him privacy. She blushed thinking of an early morning Dylan, fresh from sleep. He’d be hot, too hot. His hair would probably be messed up and his voice would be all groggy yet smooth and deep and — she was snapped out of her daze as she knocked her phone off the dresser.
A knock sounded at her door as the phone hit the ground. Opening the door wide, she motioned Dylan inside and patted her bed, so he’d take the hint to sit down. He didn’t even enter the room. He only checked on her with a searching gaze.
“I was just checking if you were okay. I heard something fall,” Dylan said. Seeing she was okay, he tried to make his exit out of her room, but Flora wasn’t going to let him escape so easily.
“That was my phone. Anyway, we are going to the office today to finish up the work I didn’t do yesterday,andI have lunch with my mom,” she said, twisting a braid between her fingers.
Dylan scanned the state of her room despite her rambling. In stereotypical girl fashion, her rocking chair was filled with failed outfit ideas. She threw another strapless bandeau on top of the pile. Dylan smiled, probably wondering how many clothes she could possibly fit on that chair.
“I don’t meet the families of the people I work with,” he said. He was fidgeting now, his eyes darting around the room lingering on the window and the hem of her robe.
“You don’t have to meet her if you don’t want to,” Flora assured, trying to push down her disappointment. “But I need to tell her what's going on; she’ll be more pissed if I don’t, and she finds out some other way.” A pissed mommy panther is a dangerous mommy panther, something Flora knew all too well.
He sighed, noticing her deflated mood. Dylan looked over towards her “I’ll be there.”
“Yay!” Flora yelled, picking out a loose pair of dress pants with a matching oversized blazer.
“Do I need to look fancy?” Dylan asked. He stared at the clothes on her bed, smoothing his hands over his hoodie.
“Throw a blazer on top, you’ll be fine,” Flora winked, picking a fitted long sleeve top to go under her outfit.
* * *
