Page 41 of The Allure of Ruins

SIX

In the movies and on TV, FBI agents are fun and engaging. In real life, they were very yes and no with their answers, there was no smiling, and they waited outside my apartment instead of venturing inside. Apparently, there would be no banter about my lack of décor.

I was fairly certain that because I was dreaming of a house, saving money, and my place was filled with paint samples and design magazines, that this was the reason my apartment seemed like I just moved in.

“I have never been in a space that was less you,” Colton said.

I couldn’t argue that point.

“Our office is more you than me, and though certain parts of my place have no trace of you⁠—”

“The patio needs a makeover,” I reminded him for the hundredth time.

“—even my place looks more like you.”

“I need to get my house soon.”

“Which will be where?” he asked as he pulled my suitcases out of my closet.

“Lincoln Park, I hope, or maybe Albany Park, or Oak Park, or⁠—”

“A park, I get it.”

I grinned at him.

“Pack all the clothes, even the dirty ones, all your face and hair crap, and pack the suits last because I know for a fact your garment bag is still in my closet from when I borrowed it for my trip to Cancun with the guys over Christmas.”

I whirled around quickly so he didn’t see me smile.

“It wasn’t that bad!” he yelled defensively.

I would not utter a word.

“At least I know now that I am, in fact, very allergic to certain kinds of shellfish.”

I lost it. I still had the pictures on my phone. I had no idea people could literally turn green. I’d always thought it was merely a funny phrase someone came up with. I was so happy all his friends knew me, so they made certain to share fun and interesting photos of Colton when I wasn’t around. I was so thankful for photos of him hanging over a toilet bowl with the caption, “praying for death” with many laughing emojis.

“You should have never left me over the holidays,” I scolded him. “I hope you learned your lesson.”

“Left you?”

“I will say, though, that I had an amazing time up at your family’s cabin in Lake Geneva. It was like a postcard come to life. I had no idea Wisconsin was that beautiful. The only thing missing was you.”

“Do you listen to yourself when you⁠—”

“It was fun. I never made Christmas cookies before.”

“Yes, I know. I got lots of pictures of you and my family from everyone,” he muttered. “You all had a nice time.”

“It was much better than nice,” I informed him. “I got to sleep on the couch, by the fire, with the tree lit up with lights all night long. It was the best. And the next day, on Christmas, your dad took me with him to put some food out for the deer.”

“Yeah. My dad took a really nice picture of you walking in the snow with the trees behind you. You look deep in thought. He sent it to me.”

I sighed. “Your dad is amazing. You know he let me use his snowblower.”

He groaned like he was in pain. “I saw those pictures as well.”

“He taught me how to string popcorn too.”