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“It helps me think,” I explain.
Lore glances around. “You have a nice home.”
“Yeah, it’s quiet out here. Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour inside.”
The back door is open, and I kick off my boots in the mudroom before I lead Lore into the house.
“This is the kitchen. I only got it remodeled last year.”
Lore touches the light granite countertop. “I like it.”
“Kat helped me. I was going for dark everything, but she assured me I wouldn’t like a black countertop. She said the dust would show,” I explain as we move on. “Dining room.”
“Small but very usable,” observes Lore.
“Next is the living room, and down here are the bedrooms.” I push open the doors as I walk down the hallway. “Bathroom if you need it, but it still needs to be remodeled.”
Lore peeks in. “Nice color.” She’s grinning at me, clearly teasing.
The bathroom has pale green and brown tiles, a vintage feature of the house.
“It’s on my to-do list. Maybe next year.” We reach the door at the end of the hall—my bedroom. Stepping inside, I gesture around. “This is where I sleep.”
Lore walks past me, scanning my room. “Did Kat help you decorate in here too?”
“Why?”
“I can’t see you picking out this comforter on your own.”
Chuckling, I nod. “It was a present from her for my birthday. But I do like the color.”
“Yeah, you always liked blue.”
I’m surprised she remembered. “Still do.” Putting my hands in my pockets, I ask, “How’s Tobias?”
“Much better. He was up and walking yesterday.” Lore sits on the end of my bed. “He’s so lucky. It could have been so much worse.”
I sit beside her, my desire to kiss her overwhelming, yet I don’t want to rush the moment. For me, air carries a palpable tension, the unspoken connection between us sparking a delicate dance of emotions.
“How’s the weather been treating you lately?” I blurt out, the mundane question a feeble attempt to bridge the gap between desire and restraint.
Lore looks at me and laughs. Her hand cups my cheek, and she leans in, kissing me softly. “Eww!” Lore moves away from me as she giggles. “Go shower, you’re all filmy.”
Smiling at her, I stand. “I’ll just be a minute.”
“Take your time. I’ll go make us a coffee.”
“Do you need any help?”
Lore stands and puts her hand on her hips. “I’ll figure it out.”
Quickly, I slip into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me, and let my jeans fall to the floor. The aging bathroom has one of those showers over the bath, its curtain a clingy companion that threatens to stick if you venture too close. With swift efficiency, I lather up with soap covering every inch, even my hair, before rinsing off in record time.
Drying off, I drape the towel around my hips and lean over the sink to brush my teeth. When I look at myself in the mirror, my hair is sticking up in all directions. I comb it into submission, attempting to regain some semblance of order, then step out of the bathroom.
In the hallway, uncertainty creeps in.
Do I go into my bedroom and change?
