“Hmm” is the only retort I have left in me. I down the contents of my glass in one go and hold it out for him to refill again.
He flashes me a doubtful expression.
“The last one, I promise.”
With an all-right-it’s-your-funeral glance in my direction, he picks up the half-empty bottle and pours the liquid into both glasses.
“How’s this living-together thing gonna work?” I waggle my index finger between us. There’s a slight slur to my words, but nothing to worry about. “Are we taking turns staying at each other’s homes? Maybe alternating nights and weekends?”
“You’ll be moving in with me.” He says it so matter-of-factly, like there was never a question of this being the case.
“Maybe I don’t want to move in here.” I give an unsteady wave of my hand to his living room.
It’s a lie.
Well, a partial lie.
I love what I’ve seen of his place so far. It looks like it’s been recently renovated, and even though the decorations are all masculine in design and color, the interior really is gorgeous.
“I like my apartment,” I say. “Why can’t you move in with me?”
“For several reasons. First, you have no security in your building. Anyone can easily get inside and have access to you.”
All right, he has me there.
“And what’s the other reason?”
“Your building doesn’t allow pets, and I have Whiskey to consider.”
I frown. “How do you know my building doesn’t allow pets?” He’s right, though. It doesn’t.
“Because we’ve already looked into it.”
“‘We’? Is this the royal ‘we’?”
“‘We,’ as in myself and my colleagues.”
None of this should surprise me. They’re associated with my cousin, after all. He’s one of those individuals who would never leave a stone unflipped. To do so would be sloppy.
Our grandfather taught us that.
I glance down at Whiskey and gently stroke his soft head. That would be one perk of staying here. I’d get to have this sweet puppy in my life for a spell.
“How long are we talking about when it comes to us living together?”I ask.
“For however long it takes until the individuals who ordered the contract on you are in jail, and the ones who were hired to kill you meet the same fate.”
I shudder at his words and sip my whiskey.
Oh, screw that.
I take a long draw of the body-numbing beverage. “So, we’re talking a few days to a few weeks?”
“Something like that.”
And what happens afterward? He leaves, and a new substitute teacher is brought in to replace him.
And everyone knows that I was dumped.
