The water laps between us, and she gazes at me, waiting for more.
“But?” she prompts.
“But nothing. If you need your own place, get your own place.”
“You’re upset.”
“I’m not upset.”
“Archer, your jaw is clenched so tightly I can practically hear your molars grinding.” She shifts in my lap, placing both palms on my jaw, tilting my head down so I have to look at her. “Talk to me.”
“I just—” I exhale. “I don’t understand why you need an apartment. I would hope you’re going to be here as often as you can, so what’s the point? Why spend money on a place you don’t need?”
“Because I do need it.”
“For what? For Bree’s lawyer? You want to sign a lease and pay rent on an empty apartment just so some attorney can check a box?”
“It’s not about checking a box.”
“Then what’s it about?”
She pulls her hands off my face. “It’s about the fact that I moved into your house with a suitcase and no plan, and I’ve been here for two months. Everything I have is yours—your house, your car, your Netflix, your life. I don’t have a single thing in this city that belongs to me.”
“You have the job.”
“I have the job as of today. Before that, I had nothing.”
“You had me.”
“That’s my point, Archer.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “You’re all I have. And that’s not healthy. For either of us.”
The water is starting to feel less hot. Or maybe I’m just aware of the cold air on my shoulders and the space opening up between us, even though she’s still in my lap.
“So you want an exit strategy,” I say, and I realize it sounds wrong before the last word lands.
Her whole body goes still. “That’s what you think this is?”
“I don’t know what this is. You’re sitting here telling me you want to move out.”
“I’m not moving out. I said I might want my own apartment. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
She climbs off me, one leg then the other, sliding back to the opposite side of the hot tub. The water between us feels like it just dropped twenty degrees. She wraps her arms around herself, jaw tight.
“I’m trying to do this the right way,” she says. “I’m trying to build something real instead of just falling into your life by accident and hoping it works out. And you’re hearing that as me leaving.”
“Because it sounds like leaving.”
“It sounds like a grown woman who wants her own address. How is that threatening to you?”
“It’s not threatening.”
“Then why are you clenching your jaw again?”
I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth and force my jaw to relax, which probably proves her point more than arguing would.
We sit on opposite sides of the hot tub, three feet apart, arms crossed, with steam rising between us. But everything feels different now.
