“Where are you going to stay?”
“At one of the hotels nearby. It’s quieter in Hermosa Beach. I think I’ll stay until my place is ready.”
How lost did a person have to be that they didn’t want to be near any of the family or friends he knew – not to even be in the same town? Pretty lost. I remembered that feeling well. Not wanting to call Chance or my mum and admit I needed them. Oh God, I was going to do something stupid.
“That’s silly. You don’t need to stay at a hotel. The spare room is yours until your place is ready.”
“I couldn’t impose.” He held his hands up in front of him, embarrassed, but where would he go? Kitty snuggled in his arms and he stroked her absently. Something told me kitty would be good for mending his broken heart. Any discomfort or misgivings seemed less important than giving him a place to heal – a place that loved cats.
“It’s no imposition. I work during the day, so it isn’t like we’re going to be bumping into one another very often. Kitty is already comfortable here.” She jumped from his arms and pranced to the living room. We watched as she tried to jump onto the couch. She couldn’t quite make it yet, but she was determined. “You really need to name her before ‘kitty’ sticks.”
Finn sat down on the stool in front of the counter and let his shoulders sag. A reluctant and tired agreement.
“Is that a yes?”
“Do I have a choice?”
I smiled. “No.”
I grabbed a spare key from my junk drawer and handed it to him, then rummaged through the pantry for what to cook for dinner. I was just about to ask him if he was hungry when I turned to find his nose buried in his phone.
“Got a new phone too, I see.”
“Is Flemings any good?”
“Yeah.” I paused with a box of off-brand penne pasta in one hand. “Their food is incredible. Best steak I’ve ever had. And the mashed potatoes.” My mouth watered. “Richard took me there for our one-year anniversary.”
“Richard?”
“Oh, my boyfriend. He travels, but you might see him on the weekends. He’s a financial analyst.”
“Chance didn’t mention you had a boyfriend.”
I sidestepped that wondering what Chance had said about me. “Café Mod is also good. It’s right on the beach. Incredible views.”
“Great.” He stood. “I’ll get out of your hair for the evening.”
Sometime in the middle of the night I woke to the sound of scratching. It took me a minute to place the sound. My brain was foggy from the carb coma I’d put myself in after Finn had left. It hadn’t tasted like Flemings and I was irrationally bitter about it.
I unlocked my door and opened it a crack. Kitty raced in. I left the door ajar, despite Richard’s insistence that I lock it, and scooped up the cat and laid in bed.
Richard wasn’t thrilled about Finn staying for the next two weeks, but I’d assured him I could take care of myself.
I wasn’t the type of girl Finn dated. I knew that without even looking up pictures of his ex. I was six years older and lived a completely different lifestyle. But more importantly, Finn wasn’t my type. Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore. His being here reminded me of how gracious people had been when I’d needed a safe place to lick my wounds. I could be that for him. It felt like fate, and I wasn’t sure I even believed in fate.
“Hi Kitty.” She settled on my chest and purred as I scratched behind her ears. “You need a name. What should we call you?”
Her eyes were a bright blue. Even in the darkness they reminded me of her owner’s eyes. Hyper blue. Fitting. “Hyper isn’t a good name. Don’t want you to get a complex. How about…” I yawned and gave up on thinking of anything clever for tonight. “For now, I guess you’re just kitty.”
Adele
In my dream there was someone at my front door, banging and yelling. I wasn’t scared in the dream, more confused and a touch annoyed. I tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t stop. I thrashed and covered my head with a pillow.
A yelp and a small thud finally pulled me to. I sat straight up and looked at kitty lying on the floor giving me a puzzled and betrayed look and the banging… oh my God, the banging was real.
I tiptoed from bed, blood pumping and slowly eased my bedroom door open.
“Woman! Open the doooooooor,” Finn’s voice bellowed, and my fear turned to straight annoyance.
I rushed to the door and pulled it open. He tumbled forward like he’d been leaning on it.
“Are you trying to wake the entire neighborhood?”
“You locked me out.”
“I did not.” The smell of alcohol hung over him like a cloud. “And even if I had, I gave you a key.”
“Don’t know where it is,” he slurred.
I glanced outside noticing his truck wasn’t here. “How did you get here?”
I shut the door and turned to face him, body still buzzing from the adrenaline of being woken up in the middle of the night.
“Walked.”
“You walked here? Are you nuts?” The closest bar was at least three miles away. The palm of my hand met his forehead before I could stop myself. Seriously, what was he thinking?
His glossy eyes widened. “Did you just slap me on the goddamn forehead?”
“Someone needed to.”
He muttered something under his breath and rubbed his forehead with two fingers. I stormed back to bed with kitty and slammed the door behind me.
The next couple days, I barely saw Finn. The door to his room was closed when I woke up and when I got home from work, he was gone. It wasn’t until long after I went to bed that I’d hear him coming in at night.
He might not have been there, but the faint scent of his soap and the closed spare bedroom were constant reminders. After not having a roommate for so long, the comings and goings of another person made me acutely aware of every sound – the front door creaking when he entered. A creak I never noticed but had added to my list of things to fix. The shower in the spare bathroom, the sound of someone undressing. Yeah, there’s a sound for that – shoes coming off with a thud, clothes being tossed to the floor. I even had the unfortunate experience of listening to him puke his guts out early one morning. I was counting down the days until he was gone.
On Thursday, I was pouring coffee into my to-go mug, yawning from another night of fitful sleep, when he entered the kitchen.
“’Morning.”
“Good morning.” My eyes landed on his bare chest and traveled down to his six-pack and that V that disappeared into those damn gray sweatpants. I turned quickly and placed the carafe back in its holder. “I wasn’t expecting you to be up. Coffee?”
“I’ll grab some in town.”
I grabbed a bright yellow mug with the words TOO BLESSED TO BE STRESSED written in pink script and filled it with coffee. “When someone offers coffee, the polite thing to do is say yes.”
He quirked a brow. “What if I don’t want it yet?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter if I want the coffee or not?”
“No. I was being polite.”