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“I know.” She wasn’t looking at him, though.
“It’s just…”
“I get it. I’m probably not going to be here for long.” She huffed out a breath and pitched her voice higher, putting on the fake-happy smile she always used when talking about her job search. “Fifteen more applications submitted today.” She deflated back to a more natural tone. “No point rocking the boat for something temporary, right?”
Sourness coated the back of his tongue. This was good, them being clear with each other like this. It was smart and mature.
So why did he hate it so much?
He couldn’t bring himself to agree with her, so he barreled on. “Look, I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay away.”
“And I don’t want you to feel like you do.”
“So we won’t,” he decided. “We’ll both go—if that’s what you want to do. And we’ll just try to be normal. It’ll probably be fine.”
Her expression finally brightened. “Sure. We can do this.”
“Of course we can.”
“So, what do you think?” She scooted closer to him, and he breathed a little easier. “Does Han just keep living with our mom out of sheer martyrdom? Or is it because he’s using her for her kitchen?”
Devin tipped his head back and laughed. Leave it to Zoe not to mince words. “He’d probably say it’s to take care of your mom and save money.”
“Martyrdom.” She poked his arm with her index finger.
He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “But you might be onto something with the kitchen.” Devin had helped them redo it back a few years ago. “He’d never find an apartment with one as nice.”
Gazing down at their joined hands, Zoe asked, “What about at your loner house in the woods? Any plans to build a giant kitchen there that he can use?”
“It’d be worth it just for the free food,” he mused. But he shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s going to be a small place. Just me kicking around it.”
“You don’t think there’d ever be anybody else?” she asked quietly.
The question settled on him heavily. She was still studiously looking down. He brushed her hair back from her face, but it didn’t let him see her eyes any better.
The answer should be simple. His whole life, he’d been dreaming of the day he could have a home of his own.
He glanced over at the bathroom, though. At the hairbrush and the toothbrush and the little bottles of lotion and soap.
He shrugged, noncommittal. “How about you? Gorgeous kitchen a must-have for your Realtor when you land your dream job?”
He kept his voice light, but forget heavy. This question sank inside him like a stone.
“Nah.” She put her head on his shoulder. “It’s not like Han would ever leave to come visit me.”
I would, Devin didn’t say. But her kitchen wouldn’t have a thing to do with it.
Silence hung between them for a minute. He twisted his neck to press a kiss to her temple, but before he could come up with anything smart to say, a yawn snuck out of him.
She laughed and kissed him back before ruffling his hair. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed. You have incident reports to write in the morning.”
“Don’t remind me,” he groaned, flopping backward into his pillow.
She got up and turned off the lights, and wow, she was so great. As she slipped back into the bed beside him, he curled his arms around her. Even the prospect of dealing with more paperwork and more people letting Bryce off the hook couldn’t bring him down.
Nope. Apparently, the only thing that could do that was the reminder that his time with her was temporary.
Which sucked. Because he was pretty sure he was going to get even more of those when he was pretending not to be sleeping with her at Han’s party tomorrow night.
