Reid
Igetoutside,andLuka is leaning against his car scrolling something on his phone, the light from his screen illuminating his sharp features.
“How’d it go?” I ask.
He looks up, lips curling into a wide grin.
“I got it. I got the condo.”
“Congrats, that’s awesome, man.”
“Yeah, I just keep looking at the listing online, scrolling through the pics over and over, trying to figure out what I’ll need to buy. You know, besides a bed.”
“You’ll need a refrigerator too, unless it came with one?”
“No, I’ll need to order one of those too. The oven is new, and it already has a dishwasher.”
“Then you’ve got the important stuff covered, food and . . .” I pause to try and think up a word that either rhymes with food or starts with the letter F but means bed, but I come up blank.
“Fucking?” Luka says, and I laugh.
“Yeah. Food and fucking. So, where is this place again?” I ask, and he raises a brow.
“Do you want to see? It’s not far from here, we could walk?”
“Sure,” I reply, and I press the key fob for my car and drop my bag in the trunk. “Lead the way. The guys won’t mind if we’re a little longer.”
The air is crisp, filling my lungs with the icy chill as we walk along the partially lit street around the rink. Luka is right beside me, his arm brushing against mine every two and a half steps, sending a rush of warmth up my arm each time that I’m sure I’m imagining.
“I guess this will be my regular walk in a few weeks,” he says, tilting his chin to take in the buildings flanking us.
“Is that when you get the keys?’
“Yeah, thirty days, Mom said.”
“That’s plenty of time to sort out a bed and everything else you’ll need. You can have some stuff delivered to my place if you want. We don’t use the garage, so you can put whatever in there.”
“Thanks, but I figure I’ll find the stuff I want and just add it to my cart online, and then after I have the keys, I’ll order it all. That way it can be delivered straight there and I won’t have to organize movers to pick stuff up.”
“Yeah, that’s probably better. So, you’ll just stay with your parents until then?”
He glances my way.
“Yeah, their place and you know . . . other places, if I’m still welcome,” he asks, and my face grows warm.
“You’re always welcome,” I say, and the next time his arm brushes mine, I reach with my fingers to link them with his for a second. It’s only a second, but it’s enough to send my heart into overdrive. “How far is this place?”
“About ten feet,” he replies, and he points to a gorgeous old entrance. The lower level of the condominium holds the facade of the hundred-year-old architecture, then above it, at least fifteen stories of glass windows and rendered panels rise into the starlit sky.
“Wow, what floor are you on again?”
“Twelve.”
“That should have a great view,” I say, and he nudges my side.
“Want to see inside?”
“They’re not going to let you up,” I say, shaking my head.
