Page 5 of Dueling Flames

“And your head?”

“Fine. I didn’t hit my head. No worries there.” He smiled at me and downed his water.

“That’s good. I really don’t want to carry you if you pass out.”

He pushed me with his shoulder. “I’m grown. You don’t have to take care of me.”

I took a deep breath. “It’s going to be weird having another person in my home. I want to set some ground rules.”

“Ground rules, got it.”

“Help where you can. Put dirty dishes in the sink. Put trash in the bin. Help pay for groceries.”

“So, be a decent person?”

“Have you not had terrible roommates?”

“Of course, that’s why I live alone. Nothing is more fun than coming home from spending the holiday with family than to find trash piled everywhere and ants invading the kitchen.”

“That’s my worst nightmare.” I grimaced at the thought, then stood up. “Ready for the tour?”

He pulled himself up on his crutches and followed as I showed him around.

“Here’s the kitchen next to the front door. It’s a galley kitchen, so not much to it.” He poked his head into the room, then turned back to me.

I pointed to the area opposite of the kitchen. “The small dining area is here on the other side of the front door. As you can see, it’s a mini open floor plan with the living room on that end.” I’d split the large living area of this room into the dining area and a living room. The couch faced away from the front door toward the only window in this room and the TV in the corner. The dining area consisted of a small round table and two chairs. Next to the front door were hooks for coats and bags. Underneath was a small shoe rack built into a bench.

“Next to the kitchen is the washroom,” I continued. It didn’t take long to walk him over from the kitchen. He stuck his head in again. “You’re lucky it’s a walk-in shower. I have one of those folding telescopic stools you can use when you shower.”

“Aw, you’re not going to hold me up while I bathe?” he said with a grin.

“Gross.” I motioned to the final door. “And here is the bedroom.”

I opened the door and let him walk in.

The room was so small it barely fit my king-size bed. It was pushed against the corner opposite the door under the second window in the apartment with only enough room for one end table. The closet was at the foot of the bed along with a four-drawer dresser.

“I can take the couch. I’ve cleaned out the top drawer and part of my closet for your things. Don’t get too comfortable.” It took me a hot minute to move my stuff around and to hide the toys I didn’t want him to see.

He turned to me with a frown. “I’m not kicking you out of your bed.”

“And you can’t fit on the couch with an air cast. It’s too easy to fall off and reinjure yourself.”

“And you’re too tall for the couch. I can at least fit lengthwise.”

I hated that he was right about me not fitting on the couch. I looked at my bed and crossed my arms. “It’s a big bed. We can share.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I really don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

“I’ve slept on a couch with a broken leg in high school. Trust me, there isn’t enough room for a decent night sleep.”

He nodded. “Which side should I sleep on?”

“You know the answer. Only one side of the bed is accessible. Unless you want to crawl into bed. Why did you ask?”

“It’s called being polite, Lissa.”

He’s choosing to be polite now? “If you say so.” I leaned against the wall. “Need me to help you unpack?”