“Actually,” I whisper, kissing my way up the swell of each of her breasts. “I just found out I’ll be super busy. Like, every single night.”
***
A week later, I wake up to an empty bed.
When I walk out of the bedroom and into my kitchen, I find Maeve sitting at the breakfast bar, a bagel forgotten beside her, her laptop open, the blue-white light shining off her face.
She’s been staying at my place since her rental lapsed, and we’ve been looking for a new apartment together.
“Heard anything?” I ask, flipping on the light and watching her wince.
“No,” she mumbles, hitting a key on her laptop, probably to refresh a page again.
Yesterday morning, she took her samples in and paid an exorbitant amount to overnight them to Hollerand. She knows they’re not going to give her an answer—good or bad—this soon, but that has apparently not kept her from staring at her inbox.
“Come on,” I say, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water, passing it over to her. “I have something that will take your mind off it.”
Ten minutes later, we’re walking hand-in-hand down Main Street. When I stick my free hand into my pocket, it sweats around the key there, and I breathe in, convincing myself I made the right choice.
The sun is just starting to crest the horizon, painting the town golden. I spent the final two weeks of summer in a coma, so now the leaves are starting to change, and it’s cool in the mornings, even if it’s still relatively hot during the days.
When we walk past the bakery, they have a pumpkin spice muffin front and center, and the scent of it drifts out into the street. The coffee shop has followed suit, and the apothecary on the corner has hung little spiders from the window, adding to the spooky look.
People usually think of the East Coast during fall, with all its foliage, but Colorado is very pretty, too.
“What’s wrong with you?” Maeve asks, glancing up at me and squeezing my hand. My heart is beating harder the closer we get.
“Nothing,” I say, clearing my throat.
Yesterday, Xeran officially appointed me as the head of Unit Two at the Silverville Fire Department. It’s more responsibility, and you’d think that feeling would help me feel more confident now, with this.
But I’m desperate to impress Maeve, and worried that she’s not going to love this as much as I think she will.
“Where are we going?” she laughs when I turn down the street and walk exactly one block away from the town square, the park with music on Friday nights, the Italian restaurant she loves.
Close enough to enjoy, but hopefully with just enough distance to have a little bit of peace and quiet when she wants it.
“Felix?” Maeve asks, and I turn to her, clearing my throat and stopping in front of a five-story, brick building.
“Suspend your disbelief for me, okay?” I ask before turning and punching in the code.
“I don’t think that means what you think it means,” Maeve says, shaking her head.
The door lets us in, and we walk inside, me leading her to the elevator. When we step into the elevator together, Maeve gives me a knowing look.
“Are you surprising me with an apartment?”
I’m mostly confident it’s the right move. Mostly confident that she’s going to appreciate the initiative, given how busy she’s been with work recently.
“That depends,” I say, shaking with anticipation for the real surprise. “Would you be pleased, or pissed?”
“I guess I’ll have to see the place first,” she quips, stepping out of the elevator and into what is our new apartment.
A huge, open-concept loft. With two bedrooms, a massive kitchen, and two bathrooms. Exposed brick and large factory-style windows overlooking Silverville.
Maybe there was a time that Maeve wouldn’t like a view like that, but I see her melting now, clearly pleased with that aspect.
“A room for your studio,” I say, opening the door into a sunlight-drenched bedroom, then pushing open the other door. “And, for when you’re done with work, a room formine.”
