He looks up at me with a peculiar expression, like he’s questioning whether or not I’m functioning properly. “For the things we need to spruce this place up.”
“It’s really not necessary.” My hands flutter at my sides. Nervous—this man is making menervous. Not in a bad way, but in the way he sees right through me. It took him two seconds after walking in here to deduce that this place isn’t me.
“Convince me that this white box is what you love now and I’ll drop it.”
I press my lips together and a self-satisfied smirk settles on his mouth.
“I’m going to shower,” I mutter. “Unless you want to go first.”
“I’m good,” he says, typing at his phone again.
I gulp down another sip of water and swipe my suitcase where I left it by the door and wheel it into my bedroom, closing the door behind me. After dumping my dirty clothes in the hamper, I pick out a pair of clean pajamas from my dresser.
The bathroom isn’t attached to my bedroom, so I’ll be forced to walk past him in order to get there.
Huffing a breath, I hold my pajamas in one hand and drag my hamper out of the room behind me.
“What the hell are you doing? And where did you find measuring tape?” I blurt out, halting in my tracks when I find Fisher measuring the wall of the mini dining room space I use as an office instead.
He plucks a pencil out from between his teeth that I also have no idea where he found.
“Your junk drawer,” he mutters, putting a tiny mark on the wall.
“This is an apartment,” I remind him. “So whatever you’re thinking of building—don’t.”
He shakes his hair out of his eyes. “I was thinking about doing some sort of wood design on this wall. I can use Velcro instead of nailing them to the wall.”
He sounds so excited that I almost hate to dash his hopes and dreams.Almost.
“Not a chance. I’d like my deposit back.”
“That never stopped you before,” he argues.
He’s not wrong, but that girl was blinded by love and happiness and expressing herself in every way she could. My shoulders slowly inch up to my ears.
“You can put your dirty clothes in here,” I say to change the subject. “I’ll run a load after you shower.”
He pauses what he’s doing and eyes me.
I lock myself away in the bathroom before he can see more than he already has.
CHAPTER 20
FISHER
Twistingthe ring on my left hand around on my finger, I stare up at the smooth white ceiling, unable to find even a minute of sleep on the uncomfortable couch. It’s a white, modular monstrosity of a couch. I miss the soft, green eclectic one from her apartment years ago. She found it at some thrift store on the west coast and told me how she had to con Elias into getting a rental truck and driving it to Florida for her. I wonder if she got rid of it or if it’s in some storage facility.
Rolling over to my side, I squeeze my eyes shut and lay there letting the minutes pass by without sleep coming to claim me.
The only sound I hear from Ebba’s room is the soft whirl of her fan. I can’t help wondering if she’s sound asleep or struggling like I am. Not that I’m going to knock on her door and find out.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I grab my phone off the coffee table and scroll through my notes. I have a lot of ideas to make this place more Ebba, but I only have two weeks to do it and I’m without my tools. I know it’s not my place to fix up her place, but I can’t help myself when this place is so obviously not her. There’s no color. No life. It’s an empty shell. I can’t help feeling responsible for turning her into whatever this is.
The slight squeak of her bedroom door has me sitting up and looking over to my left to find her peeking out of her room.
“Oh,” she startles. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
I have a hard time peeling my eyes away from her long legs and the tiny pair of blue shorts she wears with a matching tank. “You didn’t. I can’t seem to sleep.”