“Morning, sweetheart,” Kyle says and kisses my bare shoulder.
“Morning, lover. That’s one hell of an alarm clock,” I tease him.
“I figured you’d like it.” His stomach growls loudly. “I’ll get us some breakfast from this awesome place I know.”
I sit up. “Or better yet, I can make us some breakfast.”
“A better idea, but I don’t want to be a bother,” he says.
“It’s no bother. I’ll just get cleaned up.” I kiss him and then pad into the bathroom for a quick shower.
Kyle gets in after me, and while he showers, I dress and tidy up the bed. I sing out of tune as I head to the kitchen. By the time Kyle joins me, I have our breakfast ready on the table. Eggs on toast.
“Looks delicious, thank you.”
He looks so hot with his hair matted to his scalp. He sits down and immediately descends on his food. I’m glad that he’s enjoying home-cooked food. I’ve noticed that he likes to get take out a lot, which I suppose is convenient for him. I, on the other hand, prefer home-cooked food. I love cooking.
“I have an idea,” Kyle says when we finish our breakfast and are sipping coffee. “Do you remember the sunroom on the second story of my house?”
I smile at the memory. “That’s my favorite room after your bedroom.” The sunroom has glass walls and a glass roof and was drenched in sunlight. I’d tried to imagine how it looked at sunrise and sunset and failed. It was beyond my imagination.
He laughs. “That’s good because I want you to use it as your art studio. It’s big enough to store all your work, and the lighting is perfect.”
I’m touched by his offer, but it’s not practical. “I’d have to drive to your place any time I want to paint.”
He stares at me. “I have a solution for that too. Move in with me, Grace.”
All air leaves my lungs. I slowly put down my cup and stare at him to see if he’s joking. I let out a nervous laugh. “Kyle, we’ve known each other for a month.”
“People have gotten married a month after meeting and gone on to have long happy marriages.”
I laugh again. I know I sound like an idiot, but I’m panicking. I feel like I’m careening uncontrollably down a muddy hillside.
“I had a talk with my security guys, and as nice and cozy as your apartment is, it’s making them uncomfortable. Should word get out about us, this place will be mobbed. It will become a circus.”
I shudder at the image he paints.
“My place is well secured, and I’ll feel good to know that you’re safe. I’m not asking you to give up your apartment. Just to move in with me.”
Everything he says makes sense, but it makes me nervous. Moving in with someone is such a big step even though it’s not proper moving since I’ll still have my apartment. But everything in me rebels against the idea.
Kyle’s eyes are pleading, and I can’t bear to give him an outright no.
“Let me think about it, okay?” I’m buying time because I know the answer already. It has to be a resounding no.
I know that in Kyle’s world, relationships move fast, but in mine, things progress at a more leisurely pace. My relationship with him feels like a ticking bomb to me. This bliss cannot last forever, and when it explodes, I want to have the option of having my own safe place.
“Take all the time you need,” Kyle says. He stands and carries our dishes to the sink, and after rinsing them, he comes and stands in front of me. “Just so you know, I’ve never asked any other woman to move in with me.”
I swallow an avalanche of emotion. It was easier when I was lying to myself that it was probably something he did often.
“I’ll leave you to work while I go and catch up on some things at home,” he says.
I stand up, and he pulls me into his arms. I wrap my hands around his neck, and we sway together and kiss for the next few minutes. Kyle breaks the kiss and pulls away.
We walk together to the door and indulge in another long lingering kiss.
“If we keep this up, you’re not going to get any work done,” he says.
And then he is off, and the apartment is quiet.
I want to dive into work, but before I do, I desperately need to speak to someone. I return to my bedroom, grab my phone, and plop down on the bed. I speed-dial Isla’s number, and I’m relieved when she answers on the second ring.
“Hey, you,” I say.
“Hello, stranger,” she says.
“Are you at Mark’s? I can call back.”
“No, I’m at home, and he just left. What’s up?” Isla says.
“Where do I start? Kyle wants me to move in with him,” I blurt out and then tell her the rest of it, his worries about security and assurance that I’ll get to keep my apartment.