Page 7 of Drawn to You

I’ve never been inside such a luxurious home. The floors are grayish-brown wood, the furniture all neutral brown and cream shades. The kitchen has white cabinets, marble counters and a huge island with six barstools.

“The guest room is this way,” Dane says, leading me down a hallway.

Just like the rest of the house, the guest room looks like no one lives in it. A white down comforter covers the queen-size bed, not a wrinkle in sight. There’s a small wood chest of drawers and a walk-in closet.

“I’ll keep the litter box in here,” I say.

He cringes. “Fine.”

Then he sets my bag on the bed and leaves the room. I stare at the open doorway for a few seconds, unsure what to do.

What if he leaves? Should I ask him if he plans to leave?

I can’t close the door to the room to keep Mr. Darcy inside because then I won’t be able to hear the door if Dane leaves. My cat is very attached to me, though, so I doubt he’ll go anywhere.

I set Mr. Darcy on the furry throw folded at the foot of the bed. He stretches out and curls up on the throw, freeing up my hands.

First things first, I get on the Instacart app and order a litter box, cat litter, iced tea, and a few other groceries. Jane shocked me by depositing an extra five hundred dollars into my bank account for expenses, so I’m not completely broke for once.

I unpack my clothes, put my bag in the closet and pick up one of the paperbacks I unpacked.

Sighing softly, I sit down on the bed. I already miss my shabby little apartment. The bathroom faucet leaks and it’s drafty when it’s cold outside, but it’s filled with books, plants and comfy, well-worn furniture. It doesn’t feel sanitized and vacant like this place.

I’m stuck here, though. At least for now. Might as well make the best of it. I pick up Mr. Darcy, who meows in protest and carry him to the living room, where I sit down in a chair and start reading my book.

Dane walks into the living room and puts his hands on his hips, his expression annoyed.

“I’m going to a birthday party for a teammate tonight at a restaurant downtown,” he says.

“What time?”

“Leaving at five thirty.”

I panic inside, wishing I’d brought some nice dresses. I packed a capped-sleeve black pantsuit and black ballet flats that will have to do.

“Am I allowed to ride with you, or should I take an Uber?” I ask.

He scowls. “You can ride with me, but you don’t need to be beside me all night. People will think we’re together.”

Please. Anyone who heard me use words with multiple syllables would know I wasn’t with Dane. A woman would need below-average intelligence to put up with his shit.

“I doubt that,” I say sweetly. “But don’t worry, I’ll sit at the bar by myself like the sad little troll I am.”

“I’m not waiting if you aren’t ready to go at five thirty,” he says.

“I’ll be ready.”

With a nod, he turns and walks into the kitchen.

“What the fuck?” he says a few seconds later, his voice louder than necessary. “Get your ass down!”

My head whips sideways to check the spot next to me on the couch where Mr. Darcy was sitting just a minute ago. He’s gone.

“Your asshole cat is on my kitchen counter,” Dane practically growls at me.

I run into the kitchen to corral Mr. Darcy.

“Get down!” I tell him.

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