Page 65 of Under Pressure

24

Two days pass in a blur.

When I’m not at Beck’s place snuggling with Bodi, I’m at Blank Page avoiding his owner. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been staying with him because he still comes here every single day to see me. After finally getting an insurance adjuster out yesterday, his uncle was here and ready to work only an hour later. The crew of five have already taken care of the plumbing, and I’ve got water again.

Blank Page is open today for the first time in nearly a full week.

Business is great for my mental health, but with it brought Ruthie and her endless interrogation. I’m still trapped in the kitchen an hour after opening, rapidly running out of lame answers to her probing questions. With every flippant response, she just grows more curious. I lose my grip on the double-edged sword when she asks the one thing I know she’s been holding on to since she arrived at the ass crack of dawn.

“You’re living with this man, then?”

Staring out at the crowded shop through a sliver of a crack in the kitchen door, I debate making a run for it. She’s too old to catch me if I actually tried to run . ..

“Quinn Michelle Archer, don’t you even think of running. Would you like me to bust a hip chasing after you? Then who would bake those croissants you love so much, hmm?”

I hang my head, giving up. “Did you look at my driver’s license?”

“I’ve known you for long enough to have earned the right to take a quick peek.”

“You’re shameless.”

“Guilty as charged. Now, tell me what’s going on. You can’t simply tell me you’ve finally found a man and then ignore all of my interest in the matter. This is a revelation! Aren’t you excited to talk about him?”

The sad truth is that I actually am, and it has nothing to do with convincing her that we’re together. Beck has made it his mission in life to convince me to give us a real shot, but without actually saying those exact words. He says he’s okay with whatever happens not leading to an actual relationship, but I don’t buy it.

Not when this is the same guy who’s been forcing himself to drink a million types of coffee for me for months when he hates the taste of it. He’s paid so much attention to my likes and dislikes the last three days that his pantry is now filled with peppermint tea, expensive organic honey, and an entire drawer in the fridge heavy with lemons.

I complimented the colour of the towels in the ensuite bathroom, and the next day, there was a throw blanket on the bed in the exact same shade. My electric toothbrush died my second night there, but when I asked if he had a spare manual one, he left the condo and bought a new one for me that’s much fancier than the one I left in the trash. There’s a different hand soap by the kitchen sink now because I mentioned in passing that I thought the original smelled like used socks.

He confuses me. Everything I know about him from my online research tells a completely different story from the one playing out in real time, right in front of me. This is the same guywho was photographed stumbling out of a club with a girl on his back? Or the one who got caught mid-thrust in the alleyway of a different club?

My stomach twists as I erase those articles from my mind once again. Unfortunately, it’s getting harder to do that. Especially now that I’ve met thedog sitter.

I need to ask him if he’s slept with her before. I’ve almost done it twice now but chickened out both times because I know that when I do bring it up, he’ll know I’m jealous, and there won’t be any believing my denial.

Ugh, I know he didn’t. Asking would be pointless when I already know the truth.

“Of course I am.” I twist, leaning back against the wall. “But we’re not living together. As soon as the bathroom is finished, I’ll be staying here again.”

She frowns, disappointed by my answer. “You’re not tired of seeing him every day already, are you?”

“No. It’s just way too soon to be moving in with him. We’ve only been dating for a little while.”

“Don’t buy into societal norms, honey. It’s only too soon if you truly believe that.”

“I do. Do you really thinkIam ready to live with a man?”

Ruthie gives me the side-eye while wiping the sanitizer spray from the metal countertop. “Clearly, there’s something different about him. I was expecting you to start adopting cats with how little you were leaving this place to socialize, let alone with men.”

“I’ll have you know that there’s nothing wrong with having cats, Ruthie.”

“There is when they become your only friends.”

“I have friends,” I argue stubbornly.

“Callie and Eli don’t count.”

I huff, folding my arms over my apron. “Yes, they do. What’s the point of having a sibling if they can’t be your best friend?”