Page 19 of Bad at Love

I need the money. I need the money.

She’s right. I do need the money. I already put it into my budget for the next three months and the ease I felt over it was lovely. But is it worth the stress it’s putting on my heart? I mean, if I walk in on him again, I may actually have a heart attack.

“Gabriel?”

“Yeah, okay. See you soon.”

She ends the call and I stand in place for a moment. I’ll be fine. This will be fine. I can handle having a roommate. Really, he’s not much different from Tara. If anyone should see me naked, it should be a guy, right? I mean, we have the same thing. Only his is a lot nicer than mine.

Wait… what? What am I saying? It wasn’t nice. It was… disturbing. Seeing him touch himself like that isn’t something I want to think about, never mind re-live.

I double check myself in the mirror and straighten my tie before going back into the bathroom to brush my teeth, fix my hair, and clean up. I spray the shower, wipe the counters and the sink, run the brush on the toilet, and bring the laundry basket into my room so I can put the sheets in it.

The spot on my bed that was there earlier is now gone. Did I make it up? Was it there at all? Can I risk not taking the sheets off and sleeping inthat?

No, absolutely not. I tear the sheets off the bed and toss them into the basket before remaking the bed with the next sheets in the rotation. Not having them on my bed for a full week is going to bother me, but I’ve had to do it before, so I know I can get through it. It’ll all be fine.

Ignoring Storm, I head for the stairs, laundry basket tucked to my side.

“Laundry day?” he asks, getting up from his bed and following me down the stairs.

“Yes,” I bite out.

“Am I allowed to use the washer?”

I stop at the bottom, closing my eyes and taking a breath. I’d already gone through this in my head. I’ve run through every scenario possible. Him asking about the stove, the dishwasher, the washer, the TV. If he’s living here, he can use the appliances here.

“As long as you clean up after yourself, yes,” I answer, keeping my gaze ahead of me.

“How do you clean up after a machine thatcleans?”

I look up at him, finding him much closer than I thought he’d be.

“Are you messing with me?”

“Nah, man. I’m serious. I don’t do my own laundry.”

“How—” I shake my head, blowing out a breath. “Never mind. Follow me.”

I don’t want to spend time with this guy, but if we’re going to be living together, it’s inevitable. And if I want him to do things the right way, I’ll have to show him. That’s the only way he’ll learn. I’ll just treat him like a pet. Like a puppy. Or like a grown dog, rather, because he won’t be as easy to train as a puppy, I’m sure. He’s like the mutt at the pound that people keep returning because he humps the pillows and pees on the floor. He better not actually pee on my floor or I will kick him out.

I head into the downstairs bathroom, opening up the fan door to show him the washer and dryer.

“Listen carefully. First, you’ll separate your clothes by color—lights and darks. No mixing. Whites always get hot water, darks get cold, and delicates need the gentle cycle, if you have any. For detergent—one capful. Exactly. Any more, and it’ll leave residue, which is unacceptable. As for the fabric softener, half a cap, andpour it into the designated compartment,notdirectly on the clothes. Because these are the same color, they can go together.”

“They’re grey. Is that white or dark?”

Questions. I like when people ask questions.

“Good question,” I say. “Grey is neutral, but we’re not going to guess here. If it's mostly light, it goes with the whites; if it's dark enough to potentially bleed color, it goes with the darks. It's about preserving the integrity of both loads. So, since these arelightgrey, we put them with the whites. But remember to always assess carefully. I don’t want to see color transfer because of laziness. If your white t-shirts start looking grey, I’ll know why.”

He nods, watching as I continue with the laundry, pouring in the detergent and then the softener into the compartment.

“When the cycle’s done, you remove your clothesimmediately—we don’t let them sit or wrinkle. Shake each piece before putting it in the dryer. The lint trap needs to be cleaned every time. Pull it out, discard the lint, and put it back properly. Then set the appropriate drying cycle. And once you’re finished, wipe down the inside of the machine. We don’t leave any mess behind—ever.”

“Seems simple enough. But one more question.”

I close the lid and set the machine to the right setting, then press start. I turn to face him.

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