Page 28 of The Other Room

We’re back.

CHAPTER SEVEN

JO

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That smell. It tantalized my nostrils and forced my eyes to blink open. My favorite smell in the world.

Bacon.

Pushing off my blanket, I stretched and then tossed on my robe. Petunia meowed from her perch at the foot of my bed, then looked to her partially full bowl, but this time I ignored her pleas.

“Finish up what you have. Starving cats in the world and all.” I shook a finger at her, but those pleading eyes met mine and I remembered how thin she was when I’d found her. A mangled ball of fur hanging off her emaciated frame. “Ugh. Fine. But this is the last time. The last time. Starting tomorrow you have to finish all your perfectly good food before I fill it again.”

When I grabbed the bag of cat food, she chirped and hopped down, rubbing against my legs as I filled it back up.

“So spoiled.” I petted her head and then marched out my bedroom door, following my nose to the smell that made my stomach grumble.

When I stepped into the living room, Matt stood in the kitchenette pushing bacon around in the pan. He looked up, and that bright white smile stretched across his face.

“Morning, Roomster! Breakfast of champions coming right up.”

A handsome man cooking me bacon. Again. Okay, maybe Petunia wasn’t the only spoiled one in this cabin.

“Morning, Matt.” I smiled, and this time I didn’t have to force it. By the end of our evening at The Garage, the anger and hurt I’d carried around the past year had sloughed off, and we were starting to find our groove again.

We weren’t us yet... not by a long shot, but we were stepping in the right direction. We’d been like an old married couple before last year. A comfortable way of existing together, finishing each other’s sentences, and knowing what the other was thinking even before they did. But now, even though we were moving toward each other again, it felt different. Fresh. Not unlike dating someone new.

But we weren’t dating, I reminded myself. Never had, never would. Our rekindled friendship may bring with it the same nerves and uncertainty that came with dating someone new, but our destination was different. Our destination was friendship. Plain and simple. I’d realized that years ago, and I wasn’t going to start letting other ideas flood into my mind again. It’d been hard enough to accept it the first time. No sense in going through that agony twice.

“I got a lead on new couch,” he said.

“Yeah? What’s it look like?”

“A sweet distressed brown leather. It will look perfect in here. Kasey is selling it. Saw it on Facebook.”

“Works for me. How much money do you need?”

He scoffed. “Fixing up your cabin is my treat. Consider it part of my rent.”

“Matt, I told you last night—”

“Shush.” He raised a hand and then clamped it shut. “My treat.”

Not ready to argue with him this early in the day, I just shrugged and kicked my feet up on the boards I called a coffee table.

“Oh, and I’ve got an idea for a coffee table, too. It’s gonna be baller.”

“Whatever you say, handy man.”

Matt scooped a pile of bacon onto the plate, walked around the small island, and handed it to me. “Eat up. You’re going to need your energy today.”

“Energy? For what?” I popped a piece of bacon in my mouth. Cooked to perfection. Extra crispy. Just how I liked it.

“Just eat your bacon and put on your suit. I’ve got a surprise.”

Arching a brow, I finished chewing. “What kind of surprise?”