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“Uh, I just meant it would be. If we take it, I mean” I said, tripping over my words.

I really hoped he wanted to live here with me, because if not …

I shook my head. Nope. I was determined to make this happen.

“You really like this place?” he asked, stepping into the en-suite bathroom, then stepping out a couple of seconds later.

I rocked back on my heels, nerves swirling in my gut. Fuck. From the tone of his voice, it sounded like maybe he didn’t.

“Yeah, I do,” I told him. “It’s nice, but not extravagant or anything.”

He lifted an eyebrow.

“I just meant it’s not stuffy or anything like some of the other places I saw.”

“You’ve been looking at apartments?”

“I mean, yeah? We have to be out of the hotel this week. You haven’t?”

He spun away, hiding his face from me. “No, I have. I just hadn’t found anything that worked.”

What he really meant was that he hadn’t found a place cheap enough.

I didn’t know the exact details of his contract, but I figured—after agent fees and taxes—he could realistically afford to live anywhere he wanted, though I suspected his fear of being shipped back down to the AHL was making him more cautious than other guys would be in his position.

Then there was the whole question of how much money he needed to send home each month since he was on the hook for his grandma’s medicine. I hadn’t worked up the courage to ask what other bills he might also be paying.

Which was all the more reason for him to live with me.

I just had to make him see it.

“There’s plenty of space for both of us to live comfortably without having to be on top of each other all the time⁠—”

My mind conjured up an image of a naked Mikey sprawled out on top of me, causing me to lose my train of thought. I blinked hard, pushing it forcefully away.

Where was I?

“Oh. And, uh, it’s close enough to the arena to be an easy commute, but far enough away to be private. Give us some semblance of a life outside our jobs.”

“But we love our jobs,” he noted, sweeping past me.

“No. I know,” I said, following behind. “I was just saying …”

I honestly didn’t know what I was saying at this point. I rubbed my hands along my thighs.

“Uh, you want to see the roof deck?”

“There’s a roof deck, too?” he asked with a frown that made me wonder how that could possibly be a bad thing.

“This way,” I murmured, leading him through the laundry room and up the spiral staircase, explaining, “It’s the whole top of the building split into two separate spaces—one for this unit, and another for the guy in back. There’s a pretty tall privacy fence, but if one of us threw a party up, we’d definitely hear it.”

Mikey followed me out onto the deck, where we stood looking out over the water as the sun dipped low on the horizon. He blew out a long, slow breath. “I really can’t afford this, Cal. I’m sorry.”

I continued staring out over the water. “I thought you might say that.”

He set his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I’d really like to live here. With you. But I just … I can’t risk the expense. I might not …”

I turned to face him, though I probably shouldn’t have. Lying to his face was going to be terrible, but desperate times called for desperate measures.