“I’ll be back in just a sec, okay? Make yourself at home,” I said.
She nodded, and I left the room, feeling her eyes on me as I walked into the bedroom and shut the door. But not all the way. Just in case.
Tossing on clothes that would be appropriate for work, I went back into the living room and sat down on the massive couch. She had spread out the lunch on the coffee table, and I realized just how hungry I was. My stomach rumbled when it caught sight of the burritos, and it dawned on me she had gone to a Mexican fast-food place.
“Gourmet this afternoon, huh?” I asked, holding up the bag.
“I had never been there,” she said sheepishly. “I always wanted to try it. The commercials made it look so good.”
“Their food is pretty incredible,” I said.
“I stopped by the one in the row of shops under the apartments across the street. They had a big sign that advertised their burritos and, well, this happened,” she said as she gestured vaguely at the table.
“I’ll be honest, I love this stuff,” I said. “I can make burritos with the best of them, but these guys are great. And they’re like a buck fifty. Can’t beat that.”
“Yeah, I guess,” she said. I realized she really didn’t know. The last few weeks had been a crash course on how much things cost. Before then she had always just swiped her parents’ credit card and never saw the consequence of spending money. Finding fast-food Mexican and the cheapness of it was like a rite of passage into adulthood.
We dug into some of the food, and I watched with glee as she tried each piece and freaked out about how much she liked it. It was adorable, and when she had put a few things away, and we were both into our second cups of coffee, our casual small talk seemed to come to an end. It had felt the entire time like she was waiting to say something, and I wanted to let her get to it on her own.
“So, I made a decision,” she said.
“Oh? Like what? You now officially like fast food more than five-star chefs?”
“Well, besides that,” she said. “Because this is ridiculously good. But no, it’s something else.”
“What?”
“My answer is yes. Let’s get married.”
I paused and watched as the silly grin spread across her face, feeling it spread across mine, too.
“Really?” I asked. “Alright.”
“We need to talk about how this will work and when we tell people,” she said.
“Uh-oh, that means someone might have found out.”
“How did you know?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Soul mates, I guess.”
I grinned, and she returned it. We both sipped our coffee, and I watched as deep red flushed up one side of her neck and colored her cheeks.
“Maybe,” she said. “I might have kind of blown the whole thing to Hannah. But I told her we weren’t engaged yet, or else she’d wonder where the ring is.”
“So, she thinks we’re together, though. Which means Jordan knows by now,” he said.
“I asked her not to tell him,” Chloe said. “I wanted her to give you time to tell him yourself. So we had our stories straight.”
“Okay, good. I’ll tell him. So, what’s the story, what’s the plan?”
“Well, I figured we could really do it up at work tonight. Teasing, flirting, you know. Maybe share a kiss or two to seal the deal,” she said. She was saying these ideas tentatively, as if she was worried I would be offended at the idea of kissing her. How little she knew.
“Sure,” I said. “You can get a little handsy if you want.”
“I bet,” she chuckled, but there was a lilt in her voice that said she wasn’t going to throw the idea out.
“What about our living situation?” I asked. “You just moved in with Hannah, right?”
“Yeah, but I figured I could move most of my stuff over here in your spare room, if that’s okay. I can still spend the night at their place once in a while, help watch the baby. But otherwise, we can both stay here. I’ll pay half the rent.”
“No, no, you won’t,” I interrupted. “It’s my apartment, I’ll pay the rent. If you want to get like the cable bill or something, that’s fine, but I pay all these expenses, and you are just now starting out. There’s no need for you to take on bills of mine.”
“Are you sure? Isn’t the cable only half the cost of rent or something?” she asked, with a completely straight face.
“Not… quite,” I said. “But close enough. I’ll give you the log-in information and everything and you can pay it in the app. Everything else, leave up to me, okay?”
“Okay,” she said. “When do you want to do that?”
“Whenever you are ready,” I said. “I’m good for whatever.”
“Maybe a week or so?” she asked. “I don’t want to push you too fast. I just also don’t want to be an intruder on Hannah and Jordan anymore.”
“A week sounds fine,” I said. “You give me a list of what you need in the guest room, and I’ll make sure you have it and clear out the rest of what’s in there.”
“Isn’t it already set up as a guest room?” she asked.
“Yeah, but it was made for Mom. All old-people floral and stuff.”
“Just leave it,” she said. “Won’t it be weird to her if she comes up to visit and the room she’s used to staying in is suddenly a completely different bedroom with all my stuff in it?”
“I didn’t think about that, but yes. It would.”
“So, I’ll bring my stuff over—it’s not much, really—and disperse it however you think it can go through the apartment so it’s like we both live here together. When your mom comes over we can bunk together.”
My cock twitched again at the idea of us in the same bed. I
