Three days later, I've looked at fifteen apartments, filled out eight applications, and been wait-listed for every single one. The few available places were either absurdly expensive or looked like they'd been the site of at least one crime scene documentary.
I'm sitting in my office at Cascade, surrounded by listings and rental applications, when Kieran walks in with coffee and an expression that tells me he has news I won't like.
"That place on Hawthorne?" he says, placing the coffee on my desk. "Just got rented to a tech bro from Seattle who offered six months' rent in advance."
I drop my head to my desk with a thud. "Of course it did."
"How are you holding up?" Kieran perches on the edge of my desk, concern clear in his voice.
"I'm fantastic," I mumble into the stack of papers.
"You know my apartment?—"
"Is too small, and you know it." I lift my head. "I love you, but we’renotsharing a bed.” My nose wrinkles, and he smirks at me. “But thank you."
“Fair enough. If I told you about my hookup last night, you’d want to even less.”
I shudder. “Lucky girl.”
“I like to think so.”
“That was sarcasm.”
He shrugs, but then turns serious. "Have you considered other options?"
"Like what? Living in my car? Squatting in the warehouse?"
"Like Kasen's offer."
I sit up straight, staring at him. "How do you know about that?"
Kieran gives me a look that says I should know better. "You've been puking in the office bathroom for weeks. You burst into tears when the coffee machine was out of caramel syrup yesterday. And you fell asleep during the Orson call and I had to cover for you." He ticks off each point on his fingers.
"That doesn't explain how you know about Kasen's offer.”
"You left your phone on the conference table when you ran to the bathroom." He at least has the decency to look slightly guilty. "A text from 'Beanie Boy' asking if you'd made a decision about his offer to move into his spare room popped up.”
I drop my head into my hands. "God, you’re annoying."
He ignores me. "You need to do it. Take it from someone who’d rather lose all my hair than knock a girl up, if he’s stepping up, you should let him.”
And that’s how I know he means what he says. Kieran’s a vain asshole when it comes to his hair.
"I don’t need him to take care of me," I say, sounding defensive even to my own ears.
"No one said you do, but what about the baby?"
My head snaps up. He might’ve implied he knew, but he’s never outright said it and I’ve never confirmed, so hearing him saythe babyis weird.
I cover my face with my hands and groan. "This is a disaster."
"Is it?" Kieran's voice turns surprisingly gentle. "Look, I'm not saying marry the guy?—"
I choke out a laugh because yeah, I did that already.
"—but consider the offer. Set ground rules. Whatever you need to do, but if you don’t text him and accept, I’m going to do it for you. You’re too pretty to live on the street."
I scoff because he’s being an insensitive asshole, but that’s kind of part of his charm. I stare out the window at the warehouse floor below, watching my team moving kegs and loading cases onto vans for delivery. Everything is in its place, neatly organized, exactly as I designed it. My life used to be like that, too. Now it's a chaotic jumble of pregnancy hormones and complicated feelings for the man who used to be just someone I hated.
