Chapter 142 (1/2)

“I can’t believe we live here now. It still doesn’t seem real.” My eyes scan the living room.

“If someone had told me I would be living with you—let alone dating you—two months ago, I would have either laughed in their face or punched them . . . either one.” He smiles and takes my face between his hands.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” I tease and put my hands on his sides. “It’s a relief, though, to have our own space. No more parties, no more roommates and community showers,” I say.

“Our own bed,” he adds with a wiggle of his eyes. “We will need to get a few things, dishes and such.”

I touch the back of my hand to his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” I smile. “You’re being awfully cooperative today.”

He brushes my hand aside, then gives the back of it a little kiss. “I just want to make sure you are pleased with everything here. I want you to feel at home . . . with me.”

“And what about you? Do you feel at home here?” I ask him.

“Surprisingly enough, yes,” he answers, nodding, and looks around the room.

“We should go get my stuff. I don’t have much but a few books and my clothes,” I say.

He waves his arms in the air as if he has performed some sort of magic trick. “Already done.”

“What?” I ask.

“I brought all of your belongings from your room; they are in your trunk,” he explains.

“How did you know I would sign? What if I hated the apartment?” I smile. I do wish I had had the chance to say goodbye to Steph and the room that I called home for three months, but I’ll see her again soon.

“Because if you wouldn’t have liked this one, I would have found one that you did,” he answers confidently.

“Okay . . . Well, what about your stuff?”

“We can get it tomorrow. I have clothes in my trunk.”

“What is with that, anyway?” He always has so many clothes in his car.