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“Just look at your damn bedroom,” I order.
She rolls her eyes and steps past me into the guest bedroom. Then she gasps. She turns in a circle, taking in the high ceiling, and the airy furnishings, and diaphanous curtains on the huge windows. She crosses the room and plops down on the window seats.
Her big brown eyes look soft and dreamy.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, before I can think better of it.
“Oh...it’s silly.” She twists her engagement ring self-consciously, then realizes what she’s doing and stops, sitting on her hands instead.
“Tell me,” I order.
She shrugs, sheepish. “I was just thinking that it would be fun to sit and write a book here.”
For a moment an image hit me, of Hazel curled up in the heart of my home, wearing one of those sweaters she likes, working away on the story that matters so much to her.
It’s basically the deal I’d sold her on.Marry me. In exchange, I’ll give you everything you need to get your writing career on track.
But it had been an abstract idea when I tossed it out before. A solution to a problem. Now I can picture exactly where she’ll be sitting, where she’ll be working.
I like it. I like it more than I should.
“I’m next door,” I say bluntly. “Don’t go in my room. Beyond that, you can use this wing however you want. If you need an office, feel free to call my decorator. We can turn one of the other bedrooms into your workspace. Or a yoga room.”
She arches an eyebrow. “A yoga room?”
“I don’t know what women want,” I snap. I run a hand through my hair, feeling foolish. “Sorry. I just haven’t...”
“Faked an engagement before?” Hazel suggests.
Lived with my best friend’s little sister who I’m having sex dreams aboutwas more what I had been thinking, but her version is true too.
I nod.
“How about you show me the rest of the place? I promise not to tease you too badly about thinking all women need yoga rooms,” Hazel says.
I give her a long-suffering sigh and show her the rest of the apartment. It’s probably for the best that she isn’t a yoga person.
The last thing I need is a visual of Hazel in skintight clothing, flushed and focused and sticking her highly fuckable ass in the air.
13
LUKE
“There you are,” Hazel says, stepping out onto the roof. It’s cold up here now that the sun has set, but I don’t mind.
I love it up here. Second best thing to being up in my plane. The fresh air, the solitude...
Of course, there’s not going to be much solitude anymore. Not for the next six months.
I stifle a sigh. It’s not that I regret inviting Hazel to move in with me. It’s the best call, logically.
I just wasn’t prepared for how much space such a small woman can take up in one apartment. Her chatter, the sound of her movements, the way I already found a strand of her hair on my couch. Even when she’s in her room with the door closed, Iknowshe’s there.
She’s taking up space in my apartment, but she’s also taking up space in my head.
Hazel joins me, leaning against the wide stone railing. “Do you know what time it is?”
I check my watch. “About a quarter to ten.”
