Page 55 of Dropping the Ball

“Disappointed?” I ask. I don’t know why. Maybe because I want to keep the conversation going. Maybe because I hoard every detail he shares about himself.

“Kinda,” he says. “We were going to watchZombie Lake, and I haven’t seen it.”

I need to study. I need to be in bed by 10:00 so I can get enough sleep before I hit the gym at 6:30 tomorrow morning and start another long day of work and more studying. I need to do anything but what I’m about to do. I know this.

“We can watch it here if you want,” I say anyway. His surprised look makes me regret it immediately. “Never mind. I feel bad that you have to miss it after you spent all night saving me from suburban street thugs.”

He pushed his mask on top of his head a while ago, but now he pulls off the hood altogether and runs his hand through his messy strands. I curl my fingers when they twitch in jealousy.

“Now that you mention it, I definitely saved you from at least five different things tonight. I deserve to watch that movie. Let’s do it.”

“Good. Okay.” I lead us into the house in a perfect example of not remotely resetting our boundaries. “I should offer you a tour, but you’ve seen it already.”

“Just parts. Let me change out of this costume and then I’d love a tour.” He holds up a gym bag.

“Sure. I guess we’ll start with the main bathroom.”

I lead him to it, and he emerges a few minutes later in jeans and a chocolate brown thermal that makes my mouth water.Um, because of chocolate. Because I love chocolate, and this shirt makes me think of it.

“This is a Cardston build, isn’t it?” Micah asks, surveying the great room and saving me from my thoughts. “They do good work.”

“Yeah. The previous owner only lived here for two years and didn’t change much, so that’s why Madison was being so pushy about it.”

I let him take it in, from the opposite wall of windows reflecting us in the archway to the fireplace and conversation area at one end to the dining room and serving nook at the other.

“How do you feel about her choices?” he asks.

“Are you asking me if she nailed Scandinavian, natural textures, muted tones?” I repeat his words from that day in his store. “She did.”

“But do you like it?”

There is so much wood, rock, and natural fiber that it should feel like a mountain cabin, but I’m nothing you would associate with cozy cottage style, and neither is this. It feels simple, modern, and warm. Sophisticated, but not in Mom’s stuffy brocade settee way.

“I love it.” Maybe twenty-six is too young to embrace sophistication as an aesthetic, but it’s me. “I’m happy here.”

“She did an amazing job,” he agrees.

“You should see it in the morning.” Does that imply staying through the night? “Or any kind of daylight, honestly. Madison didn’t use a lot of color, but when the sun comes through the windows, it pulls out the colors she did use and it feels like a different space.”

“What are some of your favorite touches?” he asks.

Madison bought so many things that I regularly notice new ones, but I do have favorites.

“I have this pretty cool table.” I lead him over to the dining area.

He gives a soundless whistle. “Whoever made this is a master. I must know more.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s okay. One of those cocky artist types, but if you can get past that, his stuff is pretty good.”

He grins. “What else you got?”

“Threadwork partners with Teak Heart a lot. Do you know it?”

“Fair trade home goods?”

I nod. “Madison worked there during college. It inspired her to start Threadwork. Anyway, she tries to get most of the decor type stuff from there, like these lamps.” I turn on the cylinder lamp on the nearest side table. “Made from cocoa leaves.”

“Very cool.” This is not a man who will bore of interior design discussions.

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