I step in behind him and stop in my tracks. The dishes are clean; I hear the sound of the dishwasher running. The trash is gone. I pull out the drawer for it and sure enough, a fresh clean bag is in its place. As I move farther into my house, I notice the neatly folded piles of clothes and the coats hung by the door, shoes lined up underneath them.
There’s a sticky note on the back of the front door: Sorry if I overstepped. I hope this gives you a little more time together.
“Sandwiches!” Grey calls from the kitchen and then starts to jog down the hall with one in each hand. “See, I told you an assistant was a good idea. Now we can go to the new Spiderman movie after we eat.”
I nod slowly, watching him sit on the couch and devour his turkey sandwich like it’s the first one he’s ever had.
This feels weird as hell, knowing Greer cleaned my house and made us food. For what? Why would she do this? I’m not a dick, but I know I’m not always the friendliest person there is. At the same time, it’s six in the evening, and I can spend the rest of my night doing whatever Grey wants.
I, too, take a bite of my sandwich.
If I had someone to help, just for a little while, I could have more nights like this. With Grey. Less guilt.
Looks like I’m hiring someone to help after all. I just hope Greer’s up for the job, because letting a stranger into my house isn’t an option.
CHAPTER FIVE
GREER
I didn’t get any sleep last night. Instead, I laid in bed, thinking about my actions.
I cleaned his house, folded his clothes, and made them sandwiches.
That’s like super creeper status, right?
Who does that?
Me. That’s who. A woman who was avoiding another night alone.
I push back into downward dog and pinch my eyes closed. I should have just left his house like I was supposed to.
I let out a breath.
I should apologize on my way home.
I lift my right leg high.
He’ll probably slam the door in my face.
I switch legs.
He has every right. I overstepped. I totally overstepped.
A throat clears, and I drop to my knees, looking up to see Simon standing over me. His arms are crossed, and he has a scowl on his face.
“Hi,” I say and slowly stand in front of him. It’s not like he’s going to lunge at me or even move from where his feet are firmly planted, but I hold my hands in front of me anyway. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave yesterday like you asked me to. It was wrong to just help myself to your house, and I’m truly so sorry for that.”
He lets out a deep sigh and drops his chin to his chest. Then he adjusts his stance wider and rests his hands on his hips.
This is not a moment where I should be checking Simon out. I do it anyway.
The longer we stand here, and he remains quiet, the worse I feel.
“Simon, I?—”
“I’m not mad, Greer,” he says, finally looking up. His gaze captures mine like a magnet, and I barely swallow without choking.
“Oh.”
