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Dylan introduced Brooke to the leasing agent, whose name was Lauren, and they followed her up the front walk. He put a gentle hand on Brooke’s back as they stepped onto the front stoop of the white stucco house with its red tile roof. He’d been leasing a one-bedroom apartment in a nearby high-rise since his relocation to Los Angeles, but now he was in the market for something bigger.
Theywere in the market for something bigger. After five months of trading off nights at their respective apartments, Brooke and Dylan were moving in together.
It was a big step. Huge.
Shockingly, it had been Brooke’s idea. Despite her fears that she’d tire of having Dylan around all the time, what she’d actually tired of was shuttling her things back and forth between their separate apartments. Even as weeks turned into months and the shiny newness of their relationship wore off, she’d found herself increasingly reluctant to spend a single night apart from him.
Dylan’s apartment was much nicer than Brooke’s, but it was small and it didn’t allow pets. Brooke’s cheap mattress was much less comfortable than Dylan’s plush pillow-top and her closet wasn’t big enough for all his clothes, but she felt guilty about not spending enough time with Murderface whenever she stayed over at Dylan’s place.
The only solution was the obvious one: cohabitation.
Dylan had nearly fainted with shock when she proposed it, but once she’d convinced him it wasn’t a prank, he’d eagerly agreed.
“I like the wood floors,” Dylan said as they stepped inside the duplex. “And the space.”
It was long and narrow, with a decent-sized living room and dining room beyond, separated by a wide arched doorway. Arched windows that matched the Spanish-style detailing on the outside let in plenty of natural light.
“It’s a sizable kitchen,” Lauren pointed out, leading them through the dining room. “Recently remodeled.”
“Are those new appliances?” Brooke asked.
“That’s right,” Lauren answered. “And new granite countertops.”
“It’s got more counter space than my current place,” Dylan commented. “Plenty of room for cooking.”
“It’s not quite as stylish as your place,” Brooke observed, thinking of the modern light fixtures and tile backsplash in his current kitchen.
“I don’t care about that.” Dylan took a peek inside the stainless steel oven. “It’s more functional.” He turned to grin at Brooke. “And a lot homier too.”
It did feel much more like a house than an apartment. Lots more windows, only one shared wall, and its own little yard.
Brooke returned his smile as she took his hand and tugged him toward the bedrooms. There was a decent-sized master with its own bathroom and a closet large enough to hold all of their clothes.
“The guest bedroom’s a little smaller,” Lauren pointed out. “But there’s a full guest bath.”
“This will be plenty big enough for your parents when they come,” Dylan said, trailing his knuckles down Brooke’s back.
She nodded, trying to imagine it. Her parents, here in LA, visiting her for the first time.
Her father’s recovery was progressing well. He’d regained the ability to talk, although his speech was still a bit slurred, and he was walking with the aid of a cane. Best of all, he’d gotten the all clear from his oncologist. He was officially cancer free. There were still a couple months of occupational therapy ahead of him, but he was talking about coming out to visit Brooke in the summer. He mentioned it almost every time they talked on the phone in fact, which was weekly since he’d been discharged from the hospital.
Things still felt a bit precarious between them. But he was making a real effort, and Brooke was trying to get used to having a father who wanted to be part of her life again. It was a work in progress.
Although she hadn’t yet told her father she and Dylan were moving in together. It would be the first real test of their reconciliation, and she was a bit nervous about it.
“Maybe your brothers will even want to come out.”
“Maybe,” Brooke said. She’d been talking to her brothers more too, the last few months. Catching up on their lives, getting to know them finally. Maybe one day they’d want to come out for a visit.
“There’s a small yard and shared laundry facilities out back,” Lauren said, glancing at her phone. “I’ve got to take a call, but feel free to explore on your own.”
When she’d left them alone, Dylan turned to Brooke, his smile fading into a look of concern. “Are you really sure you want to do this?”
She blinked up at him through her lashes. “Do I not look sure?”
“I know you had your doubts about moving in together.”
“Had.” She reached up to smooth his hair back from his face. “Emphasis on the past tense.”
