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“You did. But now you have another option.”
“This is like a drug.” I shake my head and lower the mug. I’m in the kitchen now, and I lean forward. My back cracks as I brace my forearms on the counter.
Jacob just watches me, coming to the other side and dragging out a chair.
“Make yourself at home,” he says. “Mi casa es su casa.”
“My house is your house?”
He laughs. “You know Spanish?”
I mirror his smile. It’s kind of infectious. “No, I’ve heard the saying before. Natalie used to say it… when I first got there. I had to get a translation. And then an explanation.”
But I take his words seriously. I go to the fridge and open it, examining the contents. It’s a lot of healthy stuff, minus a few dark chocolate bars tucked off to the side. Juices and milk and veggies, packages of chicken and steak.
“Do you cook?” I ask him. “Do you like to cook?”
“I do. Do you?”
My brow furrows. “I don’t know. Natalie always did the cooking. I just… I tried to stay out of the way, you know?”
“No.”
I face him, letting the fridge door shut. “No?”
“No, I don’t know. You tried to stay out of the way—why?”
“Because it wasn’t my house.”
“It was,” he argues. “While you were living there, it was yours. Just as this is yours.”
I laugh. “This? This isn’t mine. It yours. I didn’t do anything to earn it, or deserve it—”
“You deserve it,” he replies, completely serious. “You deserve to not make yourself small for anyone.”
His gaze hasn’t left my face, and it’s making me hot. A full-body blush that starts at my toes and works its way up to my hairline. He circles the island and stands in front of me, picking up my hand.
“And you deserve a home. So make this one yours. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper. “Why are you doing this?”
He shrugs. “I don’t have an answer to that besides wanting to help you. There’s no deeper meaning here, Melody. We were friends once.”
I found a new friend. I catch the words before they come spilling out. I don’t know anything about Lucy. I don’t know anything about Jacob either. But I do know that this conversation is too much, and I need to job hunt.
“Thanks,” I manage. “I’m going to…” I hook my thumb in the direction of my room and make my way there, coffee in hand. I get to the hallway before he speaks again.
“One more thing,” Jacob calls. “This is your key and fob to get into the building.”
I glance back. He’s set the key and fob on the counter, front and center.
“The elevator won’t work otherwise,” he says. “I’m going to hit the gym.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
He nods, still watching me like he expects something else.
I just don’t know what.
