Page 60 of I Knead You Tonight

I want to be offended by his comment about my meager possessions, but it’s too accurate for me to be mad about.

“Be ready in five,” he says, brushing past me, making sure to rub against me as he goes back into the house.

It’s a simple touch, really, but it still feels so good to have him against me again, no matter how fleeting it is.

What the hell did I just agree to?

* * *

Winston wasn’t kidding.I don’t have much at all.

In fact, it’s so minimal it only takes a single truckload.

Sully was cool about watching Riker and even offered up his truck so we could grab everything in one go.

Not like there’s much to pile into the bed.

Hell, we even have some spare room.

All my clothes can fit into a large box and Riker’s in a small one. I only ever kept enough dishes for two people, so there isn’t much to pack in the kitchen either.

The biggest pieces we’re taking away are my broken entertainment center, my old dresser, and the lumpy couch I’ve slept on for months now.

I sold everything else when I found out I was pregnant and squirreled away the cash.

“You can call your landlord tomorrow and get everything sorted with him, right?” he asks when we pile back into the truck after everything’s loaded.

“Sure,” I tell him, though I have zero intentions of doing so.

Call me crazy, but I don’t plan to walk away from the month-to-month lease I have with my landlord—if you can even call the guy that—until I know things will pan out and Riker and I truly do have a place to stay at Winston’s.

I’m not about to count my chickens before they hatch.

Besides, my rent is dirt cheap at this place. It’s how I’m able to afford to keep living there. Luckily, if I’m not spending the gas money going back and forth to work, I can save that in case I need rent again next month.

We ride in silence for a few miles, Winston the first one to break it.

“You know, when I first met you, I didn’t expect you to live in the kind of apartment you do. I didn’t expect you to be so…frugal.”

“You mean deadass broke? Barely scraping by?”

He grimaces at my bluntness. “Yes.”

“I wasn’t always so bad off. That came with being dumped by my baby’s father.”

“Fucking douchebag,” Winston seethes.

I laugh. “Amen to that.”

He shifts gears when we pull away from the stoplight, and I watch as the muscles in his arms jump.

Stop it.

I cannotbe checking him out if we’re going to be living together now.

It’s just not going to be a thing.

It can’t be.

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