Connor scrubs his face roughly with both hands and clears his throat. “I didn’t mean to get emotional. It’s just . . . a lot,” he says, as he looks about the room. “I didn’t expect this. I didn’t know he was putting all of this together for me. He was here, dying, worried about . . . me.” He runs a hand over his head and down his face.
“Why don’t I show you the apartment and let you rest? It’s been a long couple of days.”
“Yeah,” he nods. “That sounds good.”
The apartment above the garage is small, basically one large room with a bed, television, and small kitchen area. There’s a tiny bathroom with a stall shower, in the corner and I half wonder if Connor will even fit inside to bathe.
“The fridge is stocked with drinks and a few other things. If you make me a list, I’ll pick up some other things for you at the store tomorrow.”
Connor stands in the room and stares. I wonder if it feels too confined for him after spending so much time in Tent City, outside. I imagine I’d want to sleep somewhere more open with more space if I were him.
“The bathroom is out of order right now. Plumber comes tomorrow to hook up the pipes or whatever,” I say. I’m not an authority on the subject, so I don’t bother trying to explain what I don’t know. “Oh, and these are for you,” I mention as I open the closest drawer in the kitchen and pull out the cell phone I had added to my account and business cards I had printed. Blake left no detail unattended under his instructions.
“This is your cell and the charger, and these are your business cards. They already have your cell number on them. That way when you’re out, you can give people your information and drum up some business. I posted a few fliers in various businesses around town a few days ago with your information. I hope that was okay,” I add. While Blake had this all planned, he couldn’t have known with one hundred percent certainty that Connor would want to work on cars when he came home.
He takes the cell, an Android, and eyes it. “You’ll have to teach me how to use this thing.”
I smile. “Of course I’ll teach you. Although I’m not as techy as Blake was, but I manage.”
He shakes his head and blinks a few times. “I could never repay you for this, Demi.”
I place my hand on his where it rests on the counter. “You don’t have to.” His gaze meets mine, and he’s staring at me like he’s trying to figure out the catch. I take my hand away and fumble with my keys.
“Here’s a key to the back door. There’s a bathroom just past the kitchen to the right when you enter.” I slip the spare key off of my key ring and place it on the small counter.
After a long moment of silence, Connor asks, “Do you mind if I open the windows?”
“Oh, of course not. It’s a nice evening. This place probably needs to be aired out anyway,” I say, as I open the window I’m nearest to. With a small wave, I tell him, “I’ll see you in the morning.” Turning to leave, Connor grabs my hand causing me to turn back.
“Thank you, Demi,” he whispers and kisses me on the cheek. I know I’m blushing as I nod and exit without another word. I’m realizing Connor Stevens isn’t at all what I expected . . . at least he doesn’t seem to be.