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“Thank you.” I smile and lace my fingers through his.
“You’re welcome. Now let’s go inside.” He leads me through the parking lot. “You look good driving my car, especially in that dress. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day. I wish you would have obliged my request that you send me naked pictures of yourself,” he says, and I elbow him. “Just saying. Would have made class much more interesting.”
“Oh, so you went to class,” I say, laughing.
He shrugs and opens the front door of the building for me. “Here we are.”
I smile at his uncharacteristic gesture and walk inside. The lobby of the building isn’t what I expected at all. It is all white: white floors, clean white walls, white chairs, white couches, white rugs, white lamps on clear tables. It looks elegant, but very intimidating. A short, balding man in a suit greets us and shakes Hardin’s hand. He seems nervous around us, or maybe just around Hardin.
“You must be Theresa.” He smiles. His teeth are as white as the bright walls.
“Tessa,” I smile and correct him while Hardin bites back a smile of his own.
“It’s nice to meet you. Shall we get to signing?”
“No, she wants to see it first. Why would we sign if she hasn’t even seen it?” Hardin says in a flat tone.
The poor man gulps and nods. “Of course, let’s go up.” He gestures down the hallway.
“Be nice,” I whisper to Hardin as the three of us walk to the elevator.
“Nope.” He smirks at me and squeezes my behind gently.
I glare at him, but his dimpled smile only grows. The man tells me about how great the view is and that this is one of the best and most diverse apartment buildings in the area. I nod along politely, and Hardin stays quiet as we step off the elevator. I am taken aback by the contrast between the lobby and the hallway. It feels like we have stepped into a completely different building . . . even a different time period.
“Here it is,” the man says and opens the first door we come to. “There are only five apartments on this floor, so you will have a lot of privacy.” He gestures for us to enter, but looks away from Hardin’s gaze. He is definitely afraid of Hardin. I can’t say I blame him, but it is a little entertaining to watch.
I hear my own gasp as I take in the sight before me. The main room’s floors are old, stained concrete, except for one large square of hardwood in the space that I assume would be the living room. The walls are brick and beautiful. Damaged but perfect. The windows are large, and the furniture is old-fashioned but clean. If I could design the perfect space, this would be it. It’s somehow a throwback to another era, but completely modern.
Hardin watches me intently as I look around, going into the other rooms and letting Hardin and the man trail behind. The kitchen is small and has multicolored tiles above the sink and countertop, adding an indie, fun look. I absolutely love everything about this small apartment. The lobby downstairs had scared me, so I was expecting to hate the place. I thought it would be an overpriced, stuffy apartment, and I’m thrilled that it isn’t. The bathroom is small but big enough for us, and the bedroom is just as perfect as the rest of the place. Three walls are old red brick and the fourth is covered with a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. It has a ladder attached, and I can’t help but laugh because I always pictured myself having this exact apartment after I graduated from college. I just didn’t think it would come so soon.
“We could fill the shelves. I have a lot of books,” Hardin mumbles nervously.
“I . . . just . . .” I begin.
“You don’t like it, do you. I thought you would; it seemed perfect for you. Damn it!” He frowns and runs his fingers over his hair.
“No . . . I—”
“Let’s go, then, show us another one,” Hardin snaps at the man.
“Hardin! If you would let me finish, I was going to say that I love it,” I tell him.
The man looks just as relieved as Hardin, whose frown turns into a massive smile. “Really?”
“Yes, I was afraid it was going to be some fancy, cold apartment, but this is just perfect,” I tell him and mean it.
“I knew it! Well, I was getting nervous a second ago, but as soon as I checked this place out I thought of you. I pictured you there . . .” He points to the bench in the window. “Just sitting and reading a book. That’s when I knew I wanted you to live here with me.”
I smile and my stomach flutters at his saying that in front of someone else, even if it’s a random leasing agent.
“So we’re all ready to sign, then?” The man shifts uncomfortably.
Hardin looks at me and I nod. I can’t believe we are really doing this. I ignore the small voice reminding me that this is too soon, that I am too young, and I follow Hardin back into the kitchen.
Chapter eighty-seven
Hardin signs his name on the bottom of what seems like an endless page before sliding the whole thing over to me. I grab the pen and sign before I can start overthinking it again. I am ready for this; we are ready for this. Yes, we are young and we haven’t known each other very long, but I know that I love him more than anything and he loves me. As long as that much is certain, the rest will fall into place.
“All right, here are your keys.” Robert, whose name I finally learned from all those pages, hands Hardin and me each a set of keys, bids us farewell, and is on his way.
“Well . . . welcome home?” Hardin says once we’re alone.
I laugh and step closer to him so he can wrap his arms around me.