Page 38 of My Veteran Biker

"Four, if you count Thursday."

"I don't think Thursday counts. We barely spoke."

"I was thinking about you the entire day. That counts."

I prop myself up on my elbow to look at him. He's serious, jaw set in that way that means he's already decided something and is waiting for me to catch up.

"You want me to move in with you," I say.

"Yeah."

"After four days."

"We've known each other twenty years. We're just making up for lost time."

"That's not how this works."

"Says who?"

I don't have a good answer for that.

Says conventional wisdom, maybe. Says the part of me that spent six years with Ben making measured decisions about when to buy furniture together and when to consider marriage and when to admit it wasn't working.

Knox and I have skipped every step and gone straight to the center of something that should probably scare me more than it does.

"I need to keep the rental until the lease is up," I say. "That's four months. I can't just break it without penalty."

"So keep it. Use it for storage or whatever. But sleep here."

"What about my dad? He's three doors down. He'll notice I'm never at my place."

"So tell him. Or don't. He's a grown man, he can handle you having a boyfriend."

The word boyfriend sounds wrong coming out of Knox's mouth. Too young, too casual for what we actually are.

"What do we call this?" I ask. "We're too old for boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Partner."

"That sounds like a business arrangement."

"Lover, then."

"That sounds like a soap opera."

He pulls me down to kiss me, effectively ending the conversation. When he lets me up for air he says, "Call it whatever you want. You're mine and I'm yours. That's all that matters."

It should feel possessive in a way that triggers every independence instinct I've built over the last seventeen years.

Instead it just feels true.

We get up eventually because staying in bed all day isn't realistic when I have a father three doors down who's probably wondering where I am.

I shower at Knox's house, using his soap that smells like him, then pull on yesterday's clothes because all my things are still next door.

"I need to go see Dad," I say. "Make sure he's okay."

"Want me to come?"