Page 222 of Override

She laughs softly, shaking her head. "I hadn't gotten that far."

"Hm." I make a mental note to reorganize the bottom shelf later.

She wanders toward the kitchen while I set her suitcase beside the hallway. My apartment has always been designed around efficiency. Everything has a purpose. Everything has a place. There isn't much here that doesn't serve a function.

Until now, that had been enough.

Now my eyes catch on things they've never considered before.

One coffee mug drying beside the sink.

One towel hanging neatly from the rack.

A freezer with exactly three frozen pizzas because I replace one every time I eat one.

My pantry contains coffee, oatmeal, protein bars, pasta, rice, and enough canned soup to survive a natural disaster.

I should've bought groceries.

Not because I eat differently.

Because she does.

The realization settles somewhere in the back of my mind, quietly adding itself to tomorrow's list.

"I should probably warn you," I say as we walk down the hallway. "The apartment was configured for one occupant until approximately forty-three minutes ago."

She looks over her shoulder.

"Configured?"

"Yes."

"You make it sound like software."

"It's easier than admitting I only own one coffee mug."

Her laugh echoes softly down the hallway.

"I'll survive."

I rest my hand against the frame before pushing the bedroom door open.

"This room is yours."

Maeve steps inside slowly, taking in the space without saying anything. The afternoon sun reaches across the hardwood floors, warming the foot of the bed before climbing halfway up the opposite wall. Everything is where it belongs. The bed is made. The dresser is empty. Fresh towels are folded neatly on the chair beside the closet.

Rachel headed over here first. Told me that she needed to make sure my apartment was in “working order.” Whatever that means. Now I am grateful she stopped by and made sure the room was ready for Maeve.

She smiles as she turns toward me. "It's beautiful."

"It has the best natural light."

"I had a feeling that would be your reason."

I lean against the doorframe, watching her continue around the room. She brushes her fingertips over the dresser before looking back toward me.

"So where are you sleeping?"