Page 14 of Follow Your Bliss

And if I rented his apartment, it’d be the third time in three days he’d been my knight in shining flesh/suit/whatever he was wearing today. If only he would Kool-Aid Man through the wall right now and save me from this discussion about wedding vows.

He could totally pull off that costume. Then he’dreallybe a thirst trap.

Nope. I had Isaac, and Jason had—how did his mom put it? A “lady friend.” But it was weird how every time Misty put her arm around him or touched him, he scooted out from under her. Maybe they were in a tiff. Hopefully she wouldn’t give him trouble if I moved in.

An alarm chimed on my phone. “Sorry, lovely ladies. I have to go.” I gathered my things, dropped kisses on both their heads, and grabbed another buttermilk drop for the road.

At eleven sharp, I pulled Mom’s Camry back to the scene of my T and V. But this time, I wasn’t dressed for a crime. One extra fluff-up of my hair, which was still in good shape from last night, and one final check that my lipstick was perfect, and I was ready to make a good impression on my potential landlord. Because after the ridiculously low price he’d texted me last night, I was determined to love whatever holy shack Jason had to rent me.

Following the high-pitched machine screel of a saw to the porch, I found him cutting wood and (pity) wearing a shirt this time. I waved for his attention. He looked up and smiled, then turned off the saw and removed his ear protection and goggles.

“Hey, good morning!” He met me at the foot of the stairs, and we shared an impromptu should-we-hug routine ending in an even more awkward hug. “Sorry. I’m probably all sweaty and covered in sawdust.”

His soapy, musky scent had me weak in the knees. “Sweat and sawdust smell so good on you, I think one of my ovaries popped out an egg.” Adrenaline kicked through me with a wave of heat to my face as he threw back his head and laughed. “I mean it didn’t because I’m on the shot.” Fuck, that’s worse. I hid my face in my hands. “I—I mean you smell fine. Maybe you should talk the words now.”

His laugh petered out. “Well, I’m glad I don’t stink. Come on. Let me show you the apartment.”

I ducked my head and followed him down the sidewalk to the old rectory door, appreciating the way his jeans hugged his ass and how his muscles moved under that red T-shirt. Delicious, but I had to stop thinking of him as climbable. He had a girlfriend—er, lady friend—for God’s sake. I was seeing Isaac.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Seeing him every day would be intimidating. Unnecessarily tempting. Would it be awkward if Isaac ever came to visit? Honestly, both sides of that coin were unlikely. Jason wasn’t interested in me, and Isaac? Him visiting was as likely as Mrs. Betty getting a tattoo of the devil on her forehead.

I followed Jason inside the old rectory. He closed the door behind us and fanned his shirt out in the air conditioning, lifting the hem and wiping sweat from his face. I dragged my eyes kicking and screaming away from his sweaty stomach to the pale gray walls of the sunny room. Actually, wait—this was gorgeous. New, wide plank dark wood floors, wide windows. I loved the smell of fresh paint.

“So, this would be your living room. Everything’s freshly renovated—”

I put my hand on his arm to stop him. “Wait. You did all this yourself?”

His eyes went dark, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yeah. Um, everything but the wiring and the plumbing.”

“I remember this room. It was a dark, wood-paneled cave with like…gold shag carpet.” I walked a few steps away, whirling around to take in the whole room. “Oh my God, there’s even crown molding. What’s this color on the walls? I wish I could be the person who names wall paint and nail polish.”

“Oh yeah? What would you call it?” He stooped to pick up a canvas drop cloth, shook it out from its haphazard folding, and started carefully folding it up.

“Hmm.” I crossed my arms and tapped my lip, eyeing up the room. “Diana’s Moon. What’s it really?”

He grinned. “Tender Gray, but it’s Diana’s Moon now.” He laid the drop cloth over his arm and started off down the hallway, stopping halfway down. “The kitchen’s at the end of the hall, and here’s the bedroom.” He stepped inside and flipped on the light. “The rectory was designed for two priests to live in residence, but their rooms were so small. So, I took the wall down in between to make a bigger bedroom, bigger closet. I also attached the bathroom to it to make it a master.”

As I entered the room, he went into the bathroom, tossed the drop cloth over his shoulder, and started washing his hands.

This room was much the same—spacious, fresh, and bright. I hadn’t even seen the kitchen yet, but this place would fetch him a lot more than he offered me. I couldn’t accept his charity.

My worried face appeared in the bathroom mirror beside his, and he looked up at the movement.

“You like it?”

I took a big breath, wrapping my hands around my arms. “Jason, I can’t take this apartment.”

“You don’t like it.” His smile flatlined as he pulled a hand towel off a hook and dried his hands. “That’s okay.”

I laid my hand on his arm to reassure him. “Oh God no, it’s gorgeous! Look at this penny tile, and fuck me. Is that a jetted tub?”

He laughed. “Yep. It’s a Kohler jetted tub.”

“Jason, this place ispa-la-tialcompared to the closet I lived in with two other women in New York City. It’s a hundred times nicer than the fancy cookie-cutter apartment my sister wants me to look at that I couldn’t afford. I can’t take it because what you offered me for rent has to be a pity deal.”

He turned toward me. His eyes met mine, and the bathroom shrank into an intimate space. God, his shoulders were broad. I bet he could fuck me standing in the middle of a room. My face went hot, and he stepped backwards into the bedroom, the drop cloth draped from his crossed arms like a shield. Did he feel that too?

Stop, Rose’s body. You feel nothing.

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