Page 60 of Catch You

I desperately want to ask him about it, but I can’t. It’s not my place or my business. We’ve slept together twice, and he’s already made it abundantly clear that there is no forever option here.

My need to help nags at me, but it’s not my place. I barely know the guy.

Going back to my original mission, I locate the coffee pods and get the machine started. I definitely need caffeine now.

I take my mug and curl myself into the corner of the couch, staring out at the deserted beach beyond. I love my house, but a view of the ocean sure would make it better. I love watching the waves crash in. I could lose a lot of hours if I had it on a daily basis.

I have no idea how much time passes before I hear Corey padding down the hallway, but the mug in my hands is long empty and I’m starting to get a stiff neck where I’m craning slightly to get the best view.

“I thought you’d left again,” he says, dejection clear in his tone, and it throws me for a loop.

Last night he was telling me he doesn’t do forever, then he’s disappointed that I might have left. Surely that’s exactly what someone who isn’t looking for long-term wants, right?

I sigh, feeling like I’m already spinning out of control with my confusion. But I really don’t want to be one of those women who asks questions like ‘where is this going?’ because I already know the answer.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Am I that bad a bed mate?” His voice is lighter as he jokes, and it makes me wonder if he remembers his nightmare.

“No, not at all.”

“I see you found the coffee machine.”

“It wasn’t hard; there’s nothing else in here.”

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “About that …”

“Are you moving?” I ask when I get the sense that he needs an out.

“Uh … yeah, something like that.”

“It’s a shame. This place is nice. Great view.” I nod toward the window.

“The bedroom has a balcony.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go have coffee out there.”

“We’ll have to share. I’ve only got one mug.”

I shrug, passing him the empty mug in my hands.

I stand and take his hand as he walks away with his shoulders lowered.

“Hey,” I say, stopping him in his tracks. “I don’t care about this place.”

“It’s not exactly the kind of home I wanted to bring you back to.”

“I didn’t come back for your apartment, Corey. I came here for you.”

“Yeah?” The beginnings of his signature smirk start to appear on his lips.

“Yeah. Maybe we should forget about coffee. I can think of something I want more.”

He abandons the mug in the kitchen as we pass before taking both of my hands in his, and he begins walking us backward toward the bedroom.

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