Page 109 of The Plus One Pact

After all, she has been here.

And she's been in a relationship before. She would have thought about this.

Unless it's too early.

When do people do these things, anyway?

"In the bathroom," he says. "There's only one toothbrush. And there's no shampoo for someone with her hair texture."

"You're an expert now?" I ask.

"Since Cynthia moved in, yes."

Cynthia has thick curls. Ivy has almost straight hair. They have different hair textures. How could he possibly know what Ivy needs?

Or is it simply knowing she needs something different. I suppose my hair is a lot thicker than Ivy’s.

My brother does have the steady-girlfriend thing down.

Daniel moves into the kitchen and glances at the cabinets behind me. He doesn't say I bet there's nothing in there either. He lets his stare suggest it.

Is he right?

Is there nothing of hers here?

No. I bought tea for her. And gin.

"She's divorced," I say.

"And?" he asks.

"She's not in a rush to share space with someone again." That much is true. At least, as far as I've picked up. "She was relieved Mom asked us to stay in separate rooms, actually."

"She doesn't sleep over?" he asks.

"She does," I say. "But she's scared to start integrate our lives."

"And none of it is coming from you?" he asks.

"At first, I was surprised," I say. "You know me. Used to women wanting more. Then, I was relieved. Then, pretty fast, I was disappointed." The words feel true. Sure, I'm not really offering Ivy space in my apartment. She isn't really refusing to leave a toothpaste here.

But other parts are true.

She isn't letting me into her heart.

She isn't opening up.

But then—

Am I giving her the space? Am I leading by example?

Maybe I'm the one who isn't giving Ivy enough of myself.

"Damn, Rome, you… you really like her," he says.

"I told you," I say.

"I'm sorry," he says. "That she's hesitant."