Page 73 of The Valentine's Bet

“Maintenance is a good start,” I say, relieved that it’s only her apartment and not something much worse.

“I already called maintenance. I ... It’s just ... my stuff is soaked, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do ... or where I’m supposed to go...”

“I’ll be over there in ten minutes. Grab anything that might get ruined. You can stay with me.” The words come out before I realize what I’m saying, and the sigh of relief she lets out means I can’t take it back.

“Oh wow. Thank yousomuch. I would’ve gotten a hotel—”

“No, don’t worry about it. You’ll have to replace what’s ruined, and that’ll cost enough.”

“Well, hopefully my renter’s insurance will coverit...” She sighs again.

“Sure, but those guys can take forever to process claims. You don’t need to be worrying about fronting a hotel bill on top of dealing with everything else.”

“That’s true.”

“I’m on my way over,” I say, slipping into a pair of black sweatpants and grabbing my coat.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m stepping out of the elevator onto her floor and making my way to her apartment. I knock on her door, trying to prepare myself for what’s to come.

And it’swayworse than I thought.

“Oh wow...” My voice trails off as Amy swings the door open. “There’s gotta be about six inches of water in here.. What happened?”

“I don’t know,” she says, holding an overnight bag. “I grabbed what I could. They said they’re trying to figure out what’s going on. The apartment beside me is flooded, too, but the tenant already left.”

I nod, reaching out and taking the bag from her. “Do you need anything else?”

Her shoulders slump as she meets my gaze—and I can already tell there’s more going on with her thanjusther apartment. “I’m too tired to get anything else. Can we just go?”

“Yeah, of course.” I take her in as she sloshes through the water and takes a step up to join me. “Don’t you want some different shoes?”

“They’re in the bag. I’ll be fine—unless we’re walking...” She eyes me warily.

I shake my head. “Nope. My car is parked right outside, actually.”

“Thank you,” she says softly, her feet making a squishing noise as she steps out into the hallway. “I just want to go to sleep.”

I frown. She’s not acting like herself. I’m not sure if it’s the fact her apartment flooded, that she’s tired, or something else entirely. But I can’t help myself. “How did your date go tonight?”

She laughs, and I cringe at the tone. “Almost as bad as yours.”

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, wondering what Brad did to mess it all up.

“Let’s just say he wanted a lot more than a coffee.” She eyes me as we step onto the elevator, the lull of crappy music filling the air.

“Do I need to go beat him up?” I joke—well, somewhat joke. If she asked me to beat him up, I probably would. Likeright now.

“No, I don’t think he’ll bother me again. But ... he did say I came across like someone who wanted more.”

I frown. “I don’t see that.”

“Really?”

“He was probably just being a jerk.”

She glances down at her shoes, letting out a sharp breath. “Can I ask you something—and you not laugh?”

I hesitate, unsure what this question might entail. “Sure.”

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