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It had a workable-sized kitchen that was its own room. And as someone who disliked open-concept living spaces, often resenting that about my own apartment, I really loved that. There was a dining space that did connect to the living room, but it had a clear enough separation that I wasn’t bothered by it.
To the other end of the house was a hall full bath that was aching for a facelift, two empty rooms that were clearly the extra bedrooms, a hall linen closet, then the primary bedroom.
The bedroom was the only one with a decent amount of furniture. It featured a king-sized bed that didn’t swallow up the entire room, a single nightstand, an old dresser that could use a sanding and refinishing, a large closet, and finally, its own full bathroom. Again, it needed work, but it was a nice, big space with a double vanity, a shower niche—the type with fully glass doors—and a jetted tub that looked like it might be as old as I was.
I grabbed some paper towels from the kitchen, wetting them in his bathroom, using a dash of his liquid soap, and trying to refresh myself a little bit after being so sweaty all day.
He actually had a decent amount of toiletries for a guy. Including an SPF day cream and a night one. Both in sleek, masculine packaging because, I don’t know, I guess the average brands were too girly. He clearly liked that brand, though, because all of the products in his shower were the same packaging and scents.
I suddenly wanted to get close to him to see if the scent clung to his skin.
I’d been too hysterical the night before to notice when he’d been holding me.
Finished cleaning up, I tried to coax Frida outside with me, but she was clearly worn out completely, refusing to budge from her spot near the vent in the kitchen.
I made my way to the front window, looking out on Alaric’s quiet little neighborhood.
It would be a nice place to walk Frida.
No honking horns, flashing police lights, backfiring cars, and various, unpredictable strangers.
Sure, out this way more, I might have to keep my eyes peeled for the occasional reptile or whatnot, but it would likely be a much more peaceful experience for Frida. And, therefore, for me.
It seemed like just a few minutes but had to be over an hour or so before I saw a vehicle turn into the driveway.
But not a bike.
My stomach twisted, sure the bad guys had somehow followed me.
I forced myself to relax, remembering they’d been in a car, not an SUV. This was probably just someone Alaric knew.
What was my move here, then?
Did I answer the door?
Pretend I wasn’t there?
I was generally a ‘hide until they go away’ type of girl when it came to door knockers. But that could be considered rude at someone else’s house.
Then, though, saving me from a downward spiral, the door opened, andAlaricclimbed out.
Alaric?
Where was his bike?
I watched for a second as he walked to the trunk, but Frida’s frantic barking had me rushing through the house to see what was going on. And hopefully try to shush her.
“What’s the… oh,” I said, seeing her staring out the window. Where a tiny little green anole was climbing on the window screen. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s alright,” I said, patting her head as the little lizard kept climbing until, eventually, he disappeared, leaving Frida making little huffing, whining sounds.
“It’s okay, he’s gone,” I told her, rubbing her head.
It was then I heard the front door close, prompting me to walk back out, Frida right on my tail, to find Alaric carrying… a bunch of my bags.
My bags?
And was that Frida’s dog bed?
What the hell was going on?
