The doors opened and they stepped onto the landing. Parker shifted the bags in his arms and dug out a metal key. He unlocked a deadbolt then the knob and toed the door open. “After you.”
Scout slowly stepped over the threshold and waited for him to turn on the light. There was some mail on the floor, which he immediately scooped up. The lights switched on, and she turned.
The space was small, but open, with very little clutter. Two tall windows dominated the main area, and Parker had stuck a table for two in the space between. A radiator hummed from beneath one curtain. A wall of appliances with only a small gap of counter space made the kitchen. A plain couch sat along the other wall. There was a simple wooden table with a lamp and books stacked around the floor. No television.
“This is the living room slash kitchen,” he said, stowing the sacks of food on the kitchen table.
It was nothing special, but it was nice. She was slightly envious of what he’d achieved on his own. She could see Parker being completely content there. She dropped her bags on the table as well.
He led her down a short hall. On the opposite side of the wall that held the couch sat a bed. This was his room. It was a good size, about the size of the main room, which was really two rooms, the living room and kitchen. Next to the bedroom was the bathroom. It was white, simple, and to the point.
Parker dropped her duffel bag on the bed. “That’s it.”
She looked at him. “That’s . . . that’s it? Parker, this is a one-bedroom.”
“I know.”
She suddenly wanted to cry. “You said it was big enough for both of us.”
His chin lifted defensively. “Well, it’s not a luxury hotel, but it’s certainly big enough for two people. We used to share one room with two hundred homeless people, Scout. I’m sorry if this isn’t good enough—”
“No, that’s not what I meant!” She ran a hand through her hair and breathed. Enough with the tears! “I just thought when you said it was big enough that you meant we’d each have our own room.”
“You can have this room. I’ll take the couch.”
“No,” she said adamantly. “This is your place and—”
“This is our place and I don’t care.”
“Well, I do. I’m not putting you on the couch.”
There was a long, stubborn silence.
“We can share the bed,” he suggested, looking at his shoes.
“Or we could take turns, follow a sleeping schedule.”
He looked ready to argue, but didn’t. “Fine. You take the bed tonight. I’ll take it tomorrow night.”
“Deal.”
They stood facing each other, neither looking the other in the eye. Was this a mistake? She supposed she could go back to her apartment, but the thought of facing all those memories again was repugnant. Besides, she’d fully cut the ties, gave herself no recourse by leaving the key behind. Shit.
Parker moved to the dresser against the wall. The apartment was small, but underfurnished. Only the most functional items filled the space. He opened a drawer and removed a pair of sweats.
“I’m gonna shower.”
He left her there, and soon the squeal of water rushing through the pipes filled the walls. Scout quietly explored, first putting away the food in the kitchen, then peeking in the coat closet. There wasn’t much.
She smiled at the various piles of books here and there. When she found a closet full of freshly pressed suits in the bedroom, she was caught off guard. First, the suits reminded her of Lucian. His clothes often returned to the suite in clear plastic similar to ones hanging in Parker’s closet. Secondly, she didn’t understand why Parker had a closet full of suits.
The water shut off and steam billowed out of the bathroom into the hall. She turned and faced another unexpected sight.
Parker stood, chest wet and hair damp, in a pair of low-slung sweats. She’d never seen him unclothed before. Although she had no point of reference, she knew he had put on weight. He was lean, but not rail thin like she’d assumed in the past. His body was cut and smooth.
His arms were muscular in a very natural way. His shoulders were broader than what they appeared under his clothing. She swallowed and quickly looked away, her skin feeling abnormally warm.
“I, uh, have some extra blankets in the closet there,” he said as he slid the suits across the rung. His voice sounded hoarse.
When he turned, his arms were filled with blankets and an extra pillow. She was very disoriented.
“Why do you have suits, Parker?”
He frowned. “For work.”
She felt incredibly selfish and stupid for not knowing what he did. “Where do you work?”
“In an office downtown.” He shook off the statement. “It’s a job. I make good money and I’ve done really well for myself after only being there a short time.”