The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

“You’re kidding,” he muttered.

Where the hell did this smart mouth come from? “Some of my neighbors are nice,” I claimed.

The expression on his face was dubious as he said, “Someone was getting jumped right next to the gate when I pulled in.”

Oh. I waved him inside to change the subject. He didn’t need to know that happened on a weekly basis. I’d called the cops a couple of times, but once I realized they never actually showed up, I stopped bothering. “Do you need something?”

Walking ahead of me toward the living room, he answered over his shoulder, “I’ve been waiting for you to let me know when you’re moving in.”

That had been one of the first things I’d stopped wondering back when I began considering that he might have changed his mind. So hearing it again was like having ice thrown on me. Almost. I didn’t bother telling him I’d thought we weren’t going through with it anymore. “Were you... did you…” I coughed. “Was I supposed to do it soon?”

Turning around to face me, he tipped his chin down before crossing his giant biceps over his chest. “The season is about to start, we need to do it before then.”

I didn’t remember hearing about that being part of the plan. I mean, I figured sooner than later, but…

He was paying off my student loans if I did this. I should have moved in the day after we came to a decision, if that was what he wanted.

“When do you think I should?” I asked.

Of course he had a date in mind. “Friday or Saturday.”

I almost hacked a lung out. “This Friday or Saturday?” That was only five days away.

That big head tipped to the side. “We’re on a time crunch.”

“Oh.” I swallowed. “My lease is up in two months.”

Sometimes I forgot Aiden didn’t believe in obstacles. “Pay it off. I’ll give you the cash.”

This was happening. This was really happening. I was moving in. With him.

I eyed him—the wide muscles of his shoulders, the dark hair dusting his jaw, those freaking eyes that seemed to glare at everything and everyone. I was going to be living with this guy.

My loans. My loans, my loans, my loans.

“What day is better for you? Friday or Saturday?” I made myself ask.

“Friday.”

Friday it was. I peered at my belongings for the first time, and felt a pang of sadness.

Just as I was thinking about my things, Aiden seemed to be doing the same thing, glancing around the small living room. I thought he might have lifted a foot to toe my couch. “Do you need help packing… or something?” he asked in an unsure voice, like this was his first time asking someone if they needed help.

I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

“Umm…” Right after I’d gotten home from his house, I’d decided what I would keep and what I would donate or give away. In conclusion, I assumed it would have to be most of my stuff.

I figured I’d be taking the guest room since it was the only room not being used on a full-time basis. The other three rooms beside the master were Zac’s, the home office, and the huge in-home gym.

“The only things I want to keep are my bookcase, my television, and my desk.” I didn’t miss the judgmental eye he slid toward the small, sixty-dollar black desk behind me. “The rest I’m going to give to my neighbors. There’s no point in keeping any of it in storage for”—I almost gagged on the words—“five years.”

He nodded even as he took in my television. “Everything can fit in a couple of trips.”

I nodded, sadness nipping my throat at the idea of leaving my apartment behind. Sure it wasn’t luxurious or anything, but I’d made it my own. On the other hand, an apartment I hadn’t been planning on staying at forever anyway wasn’t going to be the difference between living in debt and not.

I could cry at Aiden’s later if I needed to… and that thought almost made me crack up out loud. What had my life come to? And why the hell was I complaining so much? I’d be moving into a nicer house, getting my loans off my back, and getting a house, all in return for ‘marrying’ a man. So I couldn’t date anyone if I wanted to. Whoop-de-do. The last date I’d gone on two weeks ago hadn’t exactly left me excited for a repeat. It was a fair exchange, more than a fair exchange if I didn’t calculate the risk of what would happen if someone found out that our ‘marriage’ was a fraud. Then again, you didn’t get anywhere in life unless you took a risk.

“Okay,” I muttered out of the blue, more to myself than Aiden.

Then we just stared at each other, letting that same awkward silence that had been between us as boss and employee come out.

I cleared my throat.

Then he cleared his throat. “I talked to Zac.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

Aiden shrugged his shoulders carelessly. “He said he understood.”

In that case, I needed to call him; I didn’t want to be a total coward, and just move in without talking to him about it.

Aiden dipped his chin once before turning his body to face the door. “I need to go. I’ll see you Friday,” he said as he moved toward it.

And then he was gone.

He didn’t tell me to call him if I needed help with anything, and he didn’t say bye. He simply left.

This was what I’d signed up for.