He kept grinning.
“You done in the bathroom?” I asked.
He nodded.
I put the unsipped coffee on the counter, skirted around him and went to bathroom. I brushed and flossed then washed my face.
I left the bathroom and went in search of Vance.
He wasn’t hard to find considering I only had three rooms in the house (three and a half, if you counted the bed platform). He was sitting on my couch, clothed in the outfit he had on yesterday, pulling on his boots.
“What’re you doing?” I asked, staring at him.
“Puttin’ on my boots,” he replied, looking up at me.
I blinked. “You wore that yesterday,” I said.
“Yeah,” he pulled on the second boot and stood.
“If you’re going to stay here you should keep some clothes here.”
Now, why did I just say that?
I was going to freak him out. He was going to think I loved him or something.
I, of course, did love him but he didn’t know that or at least I didn’t think he knew that. Now he’d think I was a clingy, stalker, psycho bitch-from-hell and moving too fast and I was going to scare him off.
Shit.
“All right,” he said.
I blinked again. “Did you say ‘all right’?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he replied.
Guess I didn’t freak him out.
He came up to me, wrapped a hand around the back of my head and kissed my forehead. “Later Princess.”
My body went still.
“What?” I asked, looking up at him as he dropped his hand.
“Later, I gotta get to the office.”
I stared. “What?” I repeated.
He watched me a beat. “Are you okay?”
I thought about it.
Then I said, “No, I’m not okay.”
“What’s the matter?”
“You fed my cat,” I told him.
He watched me again, this time perhaps wondering if my body had been taken over by nonsense-speaking aliens.