Page 12 of Pour Decisions
Hints of JD are there under the borderline anal-retentive tidiness—a thick book on the bedside table that’s either hard sci-fi or non-fiction based on his taste, dry cleaning hanging on a hook on the back of the door, a very fancy dog bed for Bubba under the window.
“Wait, is this the master bedroom?” I ask, turning around. He grunts a yes. “I can’t take your bedroom. If I take a room at all.”
“The guest room is connected to my office. It’s easier for me to stay there because I work late. There’s no door.”
I narrow my eyes at him again. Sounds like BS to me.
He nods for me to follow him again and we go one door down. This space looks like a guest bedroom, with a smaller bed. And sure enough, there’s an arched doorway that leads to a small office space. No door.
The office is the one part of the house that looks used and borderline cozy. A dog bed overflowing with toys is next to the seat, and the desk is stacked with documents.
“And there’s one bathroom at the moment,” he adds as I look around. “The master. I’m redoing the guest bathroom. Should be done in the next few weeks."
That’s not ideal. I’m not messy by any means, but sharing a bathroom might mean seeing him in a state I shouldn’t see him in.
But the house isnice.And more importantly, safer than being in my car. I can deal with some awkwardness.
“Okay, fine, but how much are you charging?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“JD.”
“Katrina.” He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest, the muscles in his arms popping. His forearms still have the dusting of freckles on them that I loved so much.
I sigh and focus on Bubba, who’s been trailing behind us with a rubber bone toy in his mouth. He wags his tail when we make eye contact. Such a sweet, chunky boy being around perpetually moody JD doesn’t quite make sense, but he does seem like he’s being spoiled. Not that I thought JD would ever be mean to animals, but still.
“Okay, back up,” I say with a sigh. “There are so many reasons why we shouldn’t do this. Like the exes thing.”
“You can see there’s plenty of space for us to avoid each other.” His tone is bone dry. “And I’m sure we can be civil.”
“And you’re my client,” I say. “Which isn’t a good look.”
To say the least. My boss is also a Black woman, so she knows better than most that the professional standards for us aren’t exactly lenient. Living with my client who’s also my ex doesn’t scream professional.
I was the first Black woman JD dated, so he had to learn a lot about what life is like for me. He clearly still remembers, based on the understanding nod he gives.
“I can see that being complicated,” he admits. “But I live out of the way and no one has to know. Plus, this can just be a safe place until you find something else. You’re not tied into a lease. If you found a place this week, it would hardly matter.”
All of that is true. And I’d prefer to be comfortable and not take an apartment out of desperation. I like to be optimistic, but I need to be realistic too.
“Maybe…” I say, even though I’m at an eighty percent yes.
“And I know I was shitty to you back then. More than shitty, and I’m sure me saying so now doesn’t give you much closure,” he adds. “But still, I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re safe. And this is the one way I can do that.”
The touch of softness in his voice and in his ink-dark eyes makes me weak.
I close my eyes and take a breath through my nose.
No, I will absolutely not get a single feeling toward JD Stryker, especially over the tiniest bit of kindness and what feels like a heartfelt apology. I don’t want to get deep into our past right now. But I can take him up on his offer. It feels like it’s a tiny form of repentance, which I appreciate more than he probably knows.
“Fine, I’ll take it.” I swallow. “But we really need to keep things quiet until I find a new place.”
“Done.”
“Also, I’ll cook and clean or something since you don’t want my money.” His eyebrows shoot up and I hold up a hand. “Please. I can’t stay here if I don’t do something beyond the basics.”
“If you insist.” He glances out the window, where we can see the cars parked. “I can cook, but cleaning would help."
