“Next month!” he singsongs over his shoulder as he meanders down the hall to the bathroom.
A knot forms in my stomach at the reminder.
Where has the time gone? Has it been thirteen years since my world was flipped upside down?
Sometimes it feels like just yesterday I was sitting in River’s bathroom, four positive pregnancy tests sitting on the counter as she wrapped her arms around me and held me as I cried.
I pull myself from the past and finish cleaning up the kitchen. I move into the living room next, where I find at least two pairs of socks under the couch that certainly don’t belong to me, and then I fold a load of laundry and set the fresh clothes on Sam’s bed.
It’s eight by the time I make my way to my bedroom to finally get out of my work clothes.
I chuckle as I pass the bathroom, hearing Sam in there singing a song at least thirty years older than he is.
He really needs to stop hanging out with Dean so much.
After trading my jeans for a pair of jogger sweats and my flowery blouse for an old t-shirt with one too many holes in it, I see I still have almost another hour until I have to call Nolan. I try to pass the time by making a list of everything I’ll need to do to get ready for the move, but every time I glance at the clock, only a minute or two has passed.
When eight forty-five finally rolls around, I make Sam shut off his game and brush his teeth.
By nine, he’s in bed, and I’m pouring a glass of wine to calm my racing mind.
I climb into my queen-sized bed and fire up the TV I hardly use to distract myself. There’s some reality show playing, and I allow myself to zone out for a few minutes while I gather courage.
I don’t know why my heart is racing. I’ve never been too shy to pick up the phone and talk to someone. But for some reason, calling Nolan is sending my nerves into overdrive.
You’re being ridiculous, Maya. Just call the man and accept his offer. It’s not that hard.
I tip my wine back again, then with a deep breath, I pull up his number on my phone and hit the call icon before I can talk myself out of it.
It rings once before I even bring the phone to my ear.
Then again.
A third time.
And then a fourth.
I’m about to hang up when I hear a groggy voice on the other end of the line.
“’Lo?”
My brows pull together and I glance at the phone to make sure I called the right number. “Nolan?”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Maya?”
“Were you, uh, sleeping?”
“Shit,” he mutters, then he sighs, and I hear rustling. “Sorry. Yeah. I guess I was.”
“Is this a bad time?”
“No.” Another sigh. “I was just up early this morning and had a long day.”
“Oh. Do you work early often?”
“I do four tens a week, so yes.”
“Oh.”
Why do I keep saying oh?
I hear him moving around and what sounds like a cup being pulled from the cupboard. Ice clinks against a glass, then there’s the telltale hiss of water moving through pipes. He gulps a few times, then smacks his lips together.
“I take it you weren’t able to find anything else?”
“No.” This time it’s me who clears their throat. “Well, technically yes, but the apartments aren’t available for another two months, so in the meantime…”
“You’re wanting to rent my rooms.”
I nod, which is dumb because he can’t see me. “Yes. Is that okay?”
I picture him leaning against the counter in his kitchen, folding his big arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t.”
“Right.” I take a sip of my wine. “It’s kind of short notice, but we’d need to move in rather quickly.”
“That’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
He sighs again, and I don’t know him well enough to know if it’s an irritated sound or not. “Yes. Are you free tomorrow?”
“You want me to move in tomorrow?”
It comes out as a squeal.
He chuckles, the deep sound rumbling through my phone. “No. Well, I mean if you need to, then yes. It just so happens I’m off work tomorrow since I put in a shift over the weekend. You could come by and check out the apartment if you want. You know, to make sure my ax is locked up tight and no other murder weapons are lying around.”