I was overthinking the whole thing.
To be fair, I’ve been overthinking most things since I ran into Karla.
After a quick shower, I got dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans, spritzed cologne, and headed over to her place.
I texted her that I was downstairs at the bookshop so she could come down to let me into her apartment. I held a bag with the drinks and dessert inside it while a coil of nerves wound up inside me. Why was I so nervous?
Pull yourself together, Ash. It’s just a friendly get-together. Stop making it a bigger deal than it is.
My mind kept saying that, but my heart kept whispering its own kind of bullshit.
I didn’t know how to shut off the noise, but I was trying my best to keep those thoughts at bay. I’d already messed up our connection in the past. I didn’t want to somehow butcher this one, too.
Public, not personal. Keep things on the surface level. No deep talks, just light laughs. Easy.
When Karla opened the door for me to come in, all the noise shut off on its own, and all that was left was an overwhelming sense of peace.
How did she do that?
Was it her eyes? Her smile? Her entire existence?
“Hey, Ash!” She waved. “Come on in.”
I walked into her apartment, and I was blown away by her decor. Her style showcased her current personality with a lot of earthy tones. Browns, tans, and forest greens were found in almost every piece of artwork and furniture she had. A collection of houseplants was scattered throughout the place.
Her sofa was a deep green velvet, her coffee table looked as if it was an old luxury travel trunk from the 1920s, and she had candles lit throughout the space. It smelled like oak, tobacco, and a faint honey scent.
Her walls were also packed with bookshelves. About half of them held novels, and the other half were filled with records. She seemed to live up to her love for secondhand items, too. Everything looked as if it was vintage or thrifted. There was a sloth lamp resting on her side table. An elegant chandelier hung over her dining room table. The piece looked as if it was pulled from the Louvre or something.
Every piece felt personal, and random, but in turn... not random at all.
Everything made sense.
I would’ve never thought that my friend who once had not a piece of decoration in her bedroom as a teenager would now be bursting with so much life and color.
Out of nowhere, a cat began to rub himself against my leg. The loudest of purrs fell from him as he circled me a few times before flopping in front of my feet.
“You have a cat?” I asked.
She sheepishly grinned. “Yeah. Ash, meet Royce. The flopping is his sign that he needs belly rubs,” Karla remarked.
“His name is Royce?”
“Yes... I know you might not remember, but when we were younger—”
“My cat’s name is Rolls,” I cut in.
I remembered.
I remembered everything that we’d shared with each other.
Karla’s eyes lit up. “You have a cat named Rolls?”
I nodded. “And you have one named Royce.”
The sparkle in her blue eyes made my own lips turn up into a smile. God, those were beautiful... She had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. I found it harder and harder to take my eyes away from hers.
“So we have our Rolls-Royce,” she commented with a soft giggle.
