Page 50 of Rosie and the Beast Next Door

She looked abashed. “No. It got here earlier today, but I was too busy to deal with it until now. I figured I’d drag it up tomorrow, but about five minutes on the futon pad changed my mind.”

Guilt raged through me that I was still sleeping in her apartment. “I’ll sleep in here tonight, and you can have your apartment back.”

“No, that’s okay,” she said, too quickly. “I like this apartment. It’s big. And airy.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Rosie,” I groaned. “I feel like a jerk. I never should have taken your apartment.”

“Little did you know, this spare apartment is actually superior, and I won’t give it up.”

I peered into the dimly-lit living room, empty save for the futon mattress, a stack of waterlogged boxes, and mousetraps in the corners. “Nurturing again?”

Her eyes narrowed as if I’d insulted her. “Never. But I’m not leaving. And you can’t outstubborn me.”

“I’m a hockey player. I was born stubborn.”

“I’m the youngest child. And I have three older brothers. Stubborn is myliteralmiddle name.”

I folded my arms in challenge. “Really?”

She met my challenge with her hands on her hips. “Rose Stubborn Forrester. Old Stubs for short.”

My mouth twitched.

“So don’t even try. I’ve grown attached to this apartment. I even named the mice. Lydia and Kitty.”

“A mouse named Kitty?”

“FromPride and Prejudice. Have you seen it?”

I shook my head.

“Pity,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll add it to the list.”

I stood between her and the door, my grip on the mattress box tightening as she moved closer to me. “I’m going to squeeze past you and get the light.” She held onto my waist as she slid behind me. Except for my heart, which thought we’d just finished the fastest race of our lives, I held completely still as every part of her brushed against my back.

Light flooded the entryway. “Can you take it back to the bedroom?”

“Sure. It’s unlocked?”

“Wait,” she said, sounding panicked.

I paused immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re going to need to close your eyes.”

There was no way I heard her right. “Why?”

“Because …” Her words trailed off. She straightened her shoulders, as though her request was perfectly normal. “If you turn and come into the room backward, I’ll stand behind you and make sure you don’t hit anything.”

I blinked at her and waited for her to laugh or change her mind, but she stared back at me as if asking what I was waiting for. With a sigh, I closed my eyes and backed into the bedroom.What didn’t she want me to see? Was it messy? Was she hiding someone in it? The scent of paint hit my nose. Did she have an illegal side business, painting replicas? I saw a movie about that once, people who painted fakes and tried to pass them off as real.

“Okay, turn carefully.”

“It would have been easier to walk straight into the room—”

“But not nearly as fun.”

“For you, maybe,” I grumbled, as I tripped over something on the floor and nearly fell. Her hand caught on my side to steady me.

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