Page 43 of Gin and Bear It

“I’m sorry. I know you’ve been wanting this project done for a while. Once we get the bones down, the rest of the project will really fly,” he says. He’s said this a thousand times and maybe I’ll believe him when I see it.

I head back to the front desk and finally let out that sigh.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Grace asks.

“Depends on your definition of fine.” I tell her everything that happened with the cat and my ceiling, including the fact that we had to move Ash’s stuff into my room.

“Which is a bigger worry—the ceiling or Ash?” she asks, arching an eyebrow.

I look up at the ceiling. “Ash. Obviously.”

A few guests come up to the desk, and we help them pick out a spot for lunch. Then, a few more things need our attention before we can go back to chatting.

“So you guys are sharing a bed?” Grace asks once we’re back in my office. One of our other staff has taken over the front desk temporarily.

“We will be tonight. There’s not a lot of space for an air mattress. Not that Pip would let that mattress be there without digging his claws into it.” I lower my desk chair and spin around.

“Maybe you can…y’know.” She picks up one of my fidget toys and plays with it. “Let the tension out.”

My face immediately burns and I put my hands to my cheeks. “Grace. No. What the hell. You’re supposed to be the somewhat reasonable one!”

“Girl, neither of us are reasonable! That’s why we’re friends! I might be a little more organized but if there’s chaos, I’m drawn to it just a little bit.” She tries to spin the toy on her fingers and flings it across the office. “But seriously, maybe it’ll help. You need stress relief.”

“That’s why Jeremiah’s home gym exists.” I tap my keyboard to wake my computer up.

We dive into some actual work, and the day starts flying by. Then, it screeches to a near halt on my commute home. Dad reassured me that rest of the ceiling wasn’t going to collapse, but it’ll take them a few days to get there and fix the spot. And then, I need to get a new couch.

So it’ll be a few days where we’ll be forced to share a bed. And I can’t just pretend this isn’t happening, especially because Ash’s car is in the small lot next to the building.

I take a deep breath and head inside. Just like always, Pip chirps and trots up to me as soon as I take off my shoes. He weaves around my ankles, then rears up to lightly tap me on the hand.

“I know, I’m here. I’m petting you, my little gentleman,” I say, squatting down and petting him. “You’re good? The pets are acceptable?”

Usually he lies down to get tummy rubs, but today, he runs into the kitchen. Ash is standing at the counter, holding a sponge. It smells like the eco-friendly cleaner I impulse bought and haven’t used yet beyond giving it a good sniff.

“Did you clean?” I blurt.

“Yeah. I had a short day and then got hit with some band bullshit. I stress clean sometimes.” He puts the sponge in a holder that he unearthed from somewhere. “Is that fine?”

“That’s more than fine.” Facing a clean kitchen without even a dish in the sink makes the idea of cooking something less daunting. “Thank you.”

“It’s fine. I live here, too.” He opens the fridge. “I also ordered too much Chinese food because I didn’t want to cook, so you can have some. It’s from China #2.”

I stare at the back of his head as he rummages through the fridge. He just…did all that. And offered me food?

Okay, maybe there are upsides to this.

“Thank you,” I finally say. “I’m going to change and I’ll grab a plate.”

I go change out of my work clothes and into my cozy ones, Pip hanging out with Ash instead of me. Or, more accurately, Pip giving Ash sad eyes while he eats, while keeping a polite distance. He doesn’t offer me the same courtesy and tries to get all in my business as I plate my noodles. I’m used to it, though, and maneuver out of the way.

I sit across from Ash at the table. Thankfully, he has his earbuds in and he’s frowning at whatever he’s watching, so I do the same. We spend the rest of the night like that since we can’t sit on the wrecked couch. I tend to get in bed early and lounge there for a long time before falling asleep, so eventually, I excuse myself to get ready for this part of my night.

My heart starts skipping as I wash my face and brush my teeth. Maybe I’ll be asleep by the time he comes to bed? Or would that be worse, waking up to a man in my bed? Even if I know he’s coming, I’ll probably scream at the top of my lungs.

I go about my business as usual, though, scrolling a little while I sip my mocktail and watching as Pip makes his rounds—he climbs his cat tree, grooms himself, makes a loop around the rest of the apartment, and finally settles on the pillow next to mine. I switch to my favorite cozy game and turn off my lamp, my eyelids getting a little heavy.

I get to relax about twenty minutes when I hear Ash in the bathroom. Getting ready for bed takes him about five minutes, and he appears in my doorway moments later without a word.