“I’m not against them, but I’m not actively trying to have them either.”
She laughs. “I appreciate the honesty. I wasn’t either at first. I felt so awful because I didn’t like Sam when he was first born. I mean, I loved him, but I didn’t like him, you know?” She smiles fondly at the memory. “Then, one day when he was particularly fussy, screaming and crying like mad, I lost my cool and screamed right back. He stopped, lifted his little barely there brows, then giggled. Something clicked for me when I heard that sound.”
Over the years, when I’ve expressed my disinterest in kids, I’ve always gotten the response of Just wait or It’s different when they’re yours, like I’m magically going to change my mind.
I like how Maya is honest about how her connection with her son wasn’t instantaneous.
I like how real she is.
“So, you’re against love and kids. What else are you against?”
“Onions.”
“Onions?”
“Yep.” I nod. “Fucking disgusting if you ask me.”
“Extra onions on your meals—got it.”
I lean across the table. “I will look you dead in the eye and scrape the food you worked so hard on right into the trash and feel nothing as I do it.”
She blinks twice, then tosses her head back and laughs.
It’s loud, drawing the attention of others, I’m sure.
But neither of us give a shit.
I can’t take my eyes off her.
Maya is gorgeous in this moment, and I’m enraptured by her.
After several seconds, she gathers herself, wiping at her eyes with her fingertips.
“I think our arrangement is going to work out just fine, Romeo.”
“Yeah?”
A slow smile pulls at her lips, and there’s a twinkle in her eye. “Yeah.”
“So, this is it,” I say as I push open the door to my apartment.
She slips past me and into my new haven.
I stand in the entryway as she stalks around the living room, taking everything in.
There’s not much, no art on the walls or anything that pops. Just a plain gray single recliner and a black coffee table that has seen better days. My TV rests on a console I found on the side of the road, and it’s filled with odd-and-end knickknacks and a couple of box sets of TV shows I love.
The floor plan is open, and since I don’t yet have a kitchen table and eat at the counter, the space appears extra empty.
“It’s cute,” she says, glancing at me over her shoulder.
“It’s shit and we both know it.”
“Well, now that you mention it…”
I chuckle. “I’m not much of a decorator.”
Plus, I don’t spend a lot of time out here. I’d rather hang in my bedroom, where my big TV is, or my library.
“Not everyone has the touch. I can help if you’d like.”
My first instinct is to say no. I don’t need her coming in here messing up my space when she’ll only be around for two months.
But she looks so excited to help, so I find myself nodding.
She flashes me a bright smile, and there’s a strange pull in my chest at the sight.
She points to the hallway. “Rooms?”
I nod and finally move from my spot, making my way down the hall. She follows behind me, so close I can feel her body heat coming off her.
I stop at the first room and push the door open. “This one is empty.”
Her brows pull together. “Is the other one not?”
I shake my head and walk to the next room that’s directly across the hall from mine, opening the door.
She steps into the space, her jaw dropping.
“Wow.” The word comes out a whisper. “I was not expecting this.”
I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest as she takes in the eight shelves lining the back wall, each full of books.
I’ve wanted my own library for years, and having this space is a big reason I said yes to this apartment, even though it was bigger than I had planned to go.
The first thing I did when I moved in was set up this room. I built my bookshelves and got my books out of those awful boxes they’d been in for far too many years, then took my time finding the perfect reading chair and lamp to complete the space.
It’s not much, but it’s mine.
“What? Big, dumb welder can’t read?”
She side-eyes me. “I didn’t say that. I’m…surprised you have so many books.”