Page 19 of Back To You

I break our silence. “One more thing,” I start, wanting to prompt some sort of conversation about how if she needs to stay longer, she can.

It will take some time to get her to talk to me about how she feels about the break-in or if she’ll even want to go back to her apartment when the investigation is over, and I know staying with me won’t be her first choice for more than this month we agreed on, but I could talk to the leasing office at my complex to see if there’s something available for her.

“What? You want to implement a chore chart?” she teases, looking up at me with feigning innocence as she takes a sip of her new gin and tonic.

She’s being a total brat, and she doesn’t know what that does to me.

“Funny. Actually, I wanted to ask when you plan on putting that little bluefriendof yours to use. We do share a bathroom and a wall, just want to make sure I can give you your privacy.”

As the last word leaves my mouth, Annie’s lips part, and her eyes slightly widen before they narrow on me, and I realize these words about her using her vibrator may have been the last I ever speak.

And I think I’m okay with it.

I can’t help but grin with all my teeth pulling this reaction from her. I raise an eyebrow, inviting her to answer my question, seeing if she takes the opportunity to put me back in my place.

“I honestly think I could kill you right now.” Her voice is like ice shooting directly into my veins, butthere’s nothing that could put out the fire inside me that burns just for her.

“I’m fine dying if you’re the last thing I see.”

Chapter 8

Annie

The first week living with Luke goes by in a bit of a blur. Working opposite schedules Monday through Friday helps keep the much-needed distance between us.

I leave for my veterinarian assistant job at the shelter in the morning while Luke is still sleeping, and he’s already at Lenny’s by the time I get home.

We’ve barely crossed paths aside from the texts we send about when we’re leaving or when we’ll be home, and we fell into a comfortable routine fairly quickly.

I feed Rosie breakfast before I leave for work; Luke feeds her dinner before he leaves. I load and run the dishwasher; he unloads it. I put leftovers from making dinner for him in the fridge; he puts out my tin of matcha and water in the electric tea kettle before he goes to bed.

Justnormalroommate things, all of it happening as the days passed.

I close the door behind me as I take my shoes off. Luke is at Lenny’s now, so I go through my new nightly routine of throwing my stuff into the guest room, taking Rosie for a quick walk around the block, showering, getting in my pajamas, and making dinner.

I was able to pick up my laptop and other things from the police station yesterday. I picked up more of my stuffwith Mia and Drew last weekend, and I’m not letting myself acknowledge how it only took a few days in this new routine for Luke’s apartment to feel less like a place I’m staying and more like ahome.

I blame my familiarity with Luke for the feelings, knowing that my comfort with him never completely went away all those years ago.

I keep telling myself it is only natural for my body to feel comfortable in his space.

But, for how much I told him—and myself—that we were better off forgetting everything that happened between us, it doesn’t feel like we ever will.

Memories we shared have faded, thinking about them doesn’t hurt as much as it used to, but they all feel so tainted. He is so intertwined in my childhood, my teenage years, and now my life as an adult, and I hope I’ll be able to one day look back at my relationship with Luke and not feel so much betrayal, especially because he’s not going anywhere.

Not only because of our friends but because I truly think that he would follow me wherever I go.

And that’s starting to not scare me as much as it used to.

I finish cleaning the kitchen from making dinner, and I am about to head into my room to find something to do for the rest of the night when my phone rings.

I already heard from my advisor earlier this week about my rotations, and I was able to get my rotation schedule finalized, so I know she isn’t the one calling. The number looks familiar though, and when I answer I understand why.

“Hi, Annie,” the gruff voice greets, “Lou Daniels here. I have an update about your apartment.”

Hope bubbles in my chest at the same time a sliver of disappointment makes its way into my stomach. If it’s good news, it could mean that I can move back in.

If everything went well with the investigation, it could mean I don’t have to stay with Luke for the rest of the month.

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