Page 95 of The Renter
“Everything.” I say it, and I mean it. He brings fucking everything to the table.
Adam leans over, kissing me, then pulls back. “I won’t have as much time though.”
I squint at him. “What’s got you feeling your mortality right now?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about kids.” Truly, that’s the last thing I was expecting him to say. “I don’t want to rush you, but I’m not getting younger.”
“Adam,” I scold. “You’re crazy. Don’t even joke about impregnating me.”
80
Thursday, July 28th
Walking down the stairs in the morning, I see my dress and underwear are no longer in the foyer. Coffee is ready and waiting for me when I enter the kitchen. I’ll have to get used to having help, along with so much more, as I continue building a life with Adam.
He comes in, sweaty from his morning workout.
“You better stay in shape, old man,” I tease, making fun of how ridiculous his feeling old is.
He raises a brow, caught off guard by my quip. “Speaking of aging.” He smiles. “Your birthday is coming up, and you haven’t given me any ideas.” His eye contact is intense, even as he fills a glass of water.
Setting my coffee cup down, I know what I want. I’ve spent the morning considering what I want my life with Adam to be like—running a mental pro and con list between moving in and accepting his offer to pay for the apartment. “I’ve been thinking about it. I’d like to move into that apartment we toured.”
“Great.” Adam seems pleased. “But what about your birthday?”
I groan, yet a smile grows on my lips. “The apartment is more than enough. It’s the best birthday present ever.”
Adam is insistent, though, stalking over to me. “The apartment was an entirely separate offer,” he growls, cupping my chin and kissing me.
I shake my head, both amused and overwhelmed by his generosity. “I’m not giving you any more ideas.”
“I already have plenty of them.”
The look in his eye makes me suspicious, and with that, he steps away to make a call about the apartment. When he returns a few minutes later, there’s something in his hand. “Use this to furnish the place.” He hands me a credit card, and my eyes widen in disbelief.
“Adam.” I sigh. The black metal card has my name on it.When did he get this?“It’s too much.”
He dismisses my protest, waving it off. “I need you to get on the same page with me about these things.”
I hold the card hesitantly, the weight of his generosity heavy in my hand.
“It will make me happy knowing that you will make the place exactly what you want,” he insists, his voice gentle but firm. “It makes me happy, making you happy.”
I bite my lip, considering his offer. “Can you at least give me a budget so I can feel like I’m being responsible with your money?”
Adam chuckles, clearly amused. “I won’t comment on anything until you start spending millions on three-hundred-year-old pieces of wood.”
It feels like a very real example from his ex, and I raise my brow.
“I trust you, and I know you will be reasonable.”
“This is a lot of trust,” I say, nearly in a whisper.
“You’re my girlfriend. This life, my life, is yours now.”
Adam leans down, placing another kiss on my lips. “I want you to be happy and settled.” Holding me, a little smirk grows on his face. “Hopefully, you don’t get too comfortable in the apartment.”
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