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God, his head hurt. "You are not cleaning my apartment."
"What else am I going to do?"
He really didn't have an answer for that, did he?
"Well, we'll see how bad of a mess I have before we figure anything out." He pushed open the door and took a quick sniff of the air.
Nothing bad that he could smell, but just the fact that he had to do that made him question his life choices.
"Let me turn on the lights." He leaned in and reached for the switches along the wall. With a quick flip, the lights came on and he pushed the door open wide. "Come on in."
As Molly walked into his apartment, he was worried about a whole lot of things he normally didn't care about. His grandmother would have said he was more nervous than a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs, but there was something more than that inside him.
He wanted to see what she saw.
He wanted to know what she was thinking.
For a guy on his own, the furniture was enough.
Clean. Comfortable.
The couch and chairs wiped clean.
The coffee table didn't hurt too much when he cracked a shin on it.
And there weren't any plants anywhere in his apartment because he couldn't guarantee that he'd be able to keep them alive.
Molly stood in the entranceway of the apartment, her head turning one way and then the other. When she turned halfway around in a circle she looked at him. "Do you want me to sit down somewhere?"
"Uh... yeah. That would be a good idea."
What an ass, he told himself. Say something intelligent, jerk.
Yeah, well, he wasn't sure he could do intelligent at the moment. Not when he was struggling to figure out what to do now that he had her in his apartment.
It made sense, he told himself. Having her there was the best thing to protect her. Then again, he hadn't asked her about her house. It might have been easier on her to protect her somewhere she felt comfortable in.
But there were too many variables in a home.
His apartment had one door in. And there wasn't a way for anyone to access his windows to get inside. He had things buttoned up here.
"Go ahead and sit anywhere you like," he said the words as she was already lowering herself onto the closest couch cushion. "There's a remote there in front of you, not that I'll be all that long, but I'm going to look through the apartment and I'll be right back."
She didn't say a word to him, and that was okay.
What did he have to say to her beyond what he'd already ground out?
First things first. Check the bedroom.
Lord help him if he had his crap on the floor and let her in there. He took a couple of steps from the door, only to turn back and lock it. Good job, idiot.
He also set the second security lock above the first.
He didn't usually use it, but Molly was in his apartment, and he'd do whatever it took to make her safe.
The linen closet creaked open and he hated to think of the last time he'd changed the bedding on his bed. Sheets? Sure. Pillowcases. Of course. The rest of it?
Grimacing, he pulled out a whole new set of linens and moved into the bedroom.
