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The man of the hour wandered into the kitchen as I dropped his folded pants into the laundry basket. “What’s up, lover?” I asked and pulled the last pair of jeans from the dryer.
“Hungry. Got any apples?”
“One left, I think.”
He opened the fridge and found the last Honeycrisp. “Whatcha gonna do with the townhouse?” He peeled off the label, washed the apple, and took a bite.
“I can’t decide.” I pressed Aithan’s warm jeans to my face then folded them.
He turned the apple this way and that. “Want my opinion?” He took another bite and munched away, watching me.
I closed the dryer, added the last pair of pants to the laundry basket, and perched on one of the breakfast bar stools. “Sure.”
“Keep it as rental property. Passive income is a big plus for independent contractors like us.”
Like us,I thought with a mental snort. I did okay with my little business, but I’d never reach his income league.
“I agree,” Aithan said as he came down the stairs.
I looked around. “I know I should. But this place ismine, you know? I busted my ass for it. How will I feel about strangers living here?” I reached for the apple and took a bite when Drew passed it over.
Aithan picked up the basket. “Hire a property manager and let them put a tenant in here for a year. After the lease is up, if you hate being a landlord, list the place for sale.”
I chewed and swallowed and thought. “Maybe.” Drew took back the apple. “It’s gonna be weird not living here.” The marble counter was cool and smooth beneath my palms. “I went from living in my parents’ house to living here alone.” Lulu hopped up beside me and I laughed as she tapped my arm for love. “Okay, not alone. You’re right, Lu.” I snuggled her in my arms like a baby.
“I went from homeless to owning five houses and two apartment buildings,” Drew said around a bite of apple. “Know where I was happiest?” I shook my head. “With you.” He jerked his head toward Aithan. “And he’s okay too. I guess.”
Aithan threw a folded shirt at him. “I’ve never lived alone. My family owns a fourplex in L.A. Kids in one of the lower units with Babcia. Mama, Dad, and Dieter have the one directly above. Babcia rents out the other two apartments.”
“I’m not sure if I should feel bad for your grandmother or not,” I said. “Having to wranglefiveMazur kids?”
“You never talk about your siblings,” Drew remarked.
Aithan shrugged. “The youngest is Gwen — Gwendolyn. She just turned fourteen.”
“The one who calls you wholesome, right?” I asked.
He smiled. “Right. Then in order: Vanessa is eighteen and just started attending UCLA, Sebastian is twenty-four and a pro beach volleyball player, and you met Paulina. She’s thirty-one and a personal assistant to a Dallas architect.”
“Wait.” Drew raised a finger. “Back up. Your brother’s a pro beach volleyball player? That’s an actual career? I thought that was just how you picked up chicks.”
Aithan tilted his head. “Dink’s good at that, too.”
I laughed. “You call himDink?”
He grinned. “Yeah. ’Cause he’s dinky compared to me.” He chuckled. “By only an inch, but it pisses him off, so I started calling him Dink to rub it in.”
“Like siblings do,” I remarked, and he nodded.
Drew tossed the apple core in the compost bin and leaned on the counter. “What kinda salaries do Dink and his sandy friends pull in?”
“Depends on how well they do on the pro tour each year. He and Rod — that’s his partner — they were top ten this year, so they picked up some sponsorships and broke a hundred thousand each. Dink does some modeling gigs, too, so he’s doing okay for a short kid.”
I laughed. “Yeah, ’cause six-four is so short.”
Eyes narrowed, Drew considered Aithan. “Zel, when the time comes, make babies with Mr. Fitness. My family’s full of lunatics and freaks. The Mazurs produce athletes and models and honest fuckin’ folk.”
I stared at him, jaw hanging. “Are you serious?”
