I push the chips and salsa away, licking the salt from my lips. I brush the crumbs off my hands and slide my laptop across the dining room table and open it up. I’ve wasted a good part of the morning walking around the house. I told myself I was ‘investigating’ because it sounds better than snooping.

It’s not like I’m going through Cole’s underwear drawer or anything, though. But this house is big with lots of rooms, and apparently a whole other floor plus the attic that I haven’t seen yet, so walking around and getting familiar makes sense. Plus, it kept my mind off the very obvious fact that I’m alone and Steven is creeping around out there.

I open my writing program and reread the last page I wrote, trying to mentally get back in the story. I haven’t written for several days, and that’s the first time I’ve gone so long without writing in a while. I’ve been a bit distracted, though I’m not complaining. Cole is the best distraction I could ever have.

My fingers inch away from the keyboard and I find myself deep in thought about him, feeling what I can only describe as the butterflies in your stomach you get from a school-girl crush.

I’d been single throughout college, only dating casually but never getting a spark with anyone to pursue things more. And then I met Steven, and we dated on and off for a while before becoming serious. I realize now it was his way of gauging me, making sure I was a good fit for him and his manipulative ways. Being a kind, caring and trusting person who had a bad habit of wearing my heart on my sleeve, I was exactly the kind of woman he was looking for.

I never felt like this with Steven. There was no passion between us. No real connection. What I thought was love was him creating a psychological dependence, one I thought I needed because I wasn’t good enough on my own. I feel the exact opposite with Cole, and it hits me right then and there how big of a difference there is between being needed and wanted.

Too distracted to focus and write, I get up and start making lunch. I have forty-five minutes until Cole gets in, and I’d like to have his food ready to eat so we have time for sex. Speaking of which…I should probably change out of my PJs. I preheat the oven so I can stick bacon in for BLTs later, and go upstairs for a quick shower before I get dressed.

I take the tablet that shows the security cameras up with me, doing a quick check of all the exterior doors before I undress. I throw my pineapple print pajama pants on the floor and pull my tank top over my head, turn on the water, and wait a minute for it to warm up. The moment I step inside and let the water rush over me, the doorbell rings. Just like Cole said, the tone plays through a speaker up here, loud and clear.

Despite the scalding water pouring down on me, I’m freezing. My mind goes to a dark place, and I want to grab something—anything—heavy, and hit Steven in the face with it. Hard. Harder than he hit me. Though I refuse to sink to his level, and really, I’m a woman and I’m not as strong—

“No,” I tell myself, quieting his voice that still echoes in my mind. I shut off the water and wrap a fluffy gray towel around myself. I left the tablet that shows the security camera footage laying on the bed. Not wasting time to dry off, I hurry into the room. Cold air hits my wet skin, and I shiver. My heart is racing by the time I get to the large bed and grab the device. I wake up the screen just in time to see a young woman leaving the porch.

It looks like she left something there, but I can’t make out what it is. Then another woman walks up to the door, carrying a vacuum cleaner. Right. Cole has housekeepers that come once a week. Still, I quickly text him just to be sure.

Me: Are the housekeepers supposed to come today? They’re at the door.

Luckily, Cole answers right away.

Cole: Shit, I forgot about them. Sorry. They’ll let themselves in, so you don’t have to answer the door if you don’t want to.

Me: I’ll hide upstairs in the attic and make ghost noises.

Cole: Don’t scare them away! They do a good job and I’d like to keep them.

Me: So much for fucking you on your lunch break.

Cole: I’ll be joining you in the attic then ;)

I send a bunch of eggplant emojis, then grab the dress I intended on wearing and pull it over my head as I walk. It would be awkward for both them and me to not answer the door and then have them stumble upon me just hanging around upstairs.

I trot down the front stairs and punch in the code to disarm the system.

“Hi,” I say when I answer the door, suddenly feeling awkward. I don’t know the etiquette here. Should I offer them something to eat or drink? Help them carry their stuff inside? Oh, shit. I turned the oven on and I’m pretty sure they have to clean it.

Both women look at me with surprise. They’re the same two ladies I saw before, and the older of the two told me she was happy to see Cole with someone. Her words struck me, leaving me curious to just how solitary Cole had been before we started dating.

“What a pleasant surprise,” the older woman says to me, smiling.

I reach forward and pick up a bucket full of cleaning supplies, unable to help the manners my parents instilled in me. Be a good enough person so if someone talked shit about you, no one would believe it. My father used to tell that to Sophia and me, and while he was less than poetic, the message stayed with me.

Be a good person.

Don’t fuck people over.

It’s not that hard.

“You don’t have to do that, honey,” the woman says.

“It’s no problem.” I step aside and let them in. “I’m Ana, by the way.”

“It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Misha.”

“Courtney,” the younger woman says.

Misha places the vacuum inside the foyer and takes the bucket from me. “You’re from out of town?” she asks. “I noticed the suitcase last time.”

“Yes. I’m, uh, visiting again.”

Misha smiles. “It’s nice to see that Mr. Winchester isn’t alone. Are you staying in town long?”

We walk into the house together. “Yes,” I say without thinking about it. I turn around, eyeing the unlocked door behind us. Should I warn them about Steven? On the one hand, it makes sense. On the other, they might not be happy that I’m the one finally filling the empty spot in Cole’s life after they hear that I have a batshit crazy lunatic for an ex. “I’ll be here until the end of the week, most likely.”

“Enjoy your stay.”

“I have been,” I reply and then realize how dirty that came off. “I, uh, turned the oven on but I can turn it off. I wanted to let you know so you didn’t get burned or anything.”

“You can cook if you need to. We can work around it.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m not much of a cook anyway. I was going to make BLTs, but the microwave works just fine for bacon.”

“Go ahead and make yourself lunch. We’ll get started upstairs.”

I clean up all the crap I got out in the kitchen and then stick bacon on a plate, cover it with a paper towel, and pop it in the microwave. I could open my computer and work on building my social media presence, but I can’t seem to look away from the unlocked front door.

Courtney and Misha are upstairs. They wouldn’t notice if I locked the door, right? Would it even matter? It’s not like they’re locked in and can’t get out. This street is rather busy. I assume most people keep their front doors locked at all times. You never know who could lurk around and try the door to see if it’s locked.

It could be a sick-in-the-head ex-boyfriend.

I pace around the kitchen, unease growing inside of me. The unease turns to anger, at both myself and Steven by the time the microwave beeps. I open the door and inhale the delicious scent of bacon before carefully peeling back the paper towel. I nuke them for another minute and a half before it’s crunchy enough for me.

I make two sandwiches and then wipe down the grease that inevitably spatters on the sides of the microwave every time I make bacon the lazy way. I set both sandwiches on the table and fill up glasses with water.

Steven used to demand I had meals ready and waiting on the table for him. He worked, after all, and was hungry when he came home. Having a snack until dinner was ready wouldn’t cut it because he was ‘too hungry’ for a snack. I loathed cooking for him and is probably the reason today why I hate making dinner. It harbors bad memories. Plus, I’m really that bad of a chef.

I pick at the bacon on my sandwich until Cole comes home. My heart flutters the moment I see him, and I can’t help but smile.

This is how relationships are supposed to be. Being with Cole makes me happy, makes me feel like my life is being enhanced.

“Hey, Ana,” he calls as he comes into the kitchen. I’m sitting at the table ‘working’ and stealing more bacon. I stand and go to him, needing to feel his arms around me.

“Hey, babe.” I stand on my toes to kiss him, that giddy feeling bubbling inside again. Cole’s hands land on my waist, slowly sliding down over my ass.

“Are you not wearing underwear?”

“No, I’m not.”

Cole just looks at me and blinks. Then he opens his mouth only to close it again, laughing. “You’re trying to kill me, right?”

“I am. I’ve heard that blue balls can lead to death. Though first I need to marry you so I can get your life insurance. And this house. The ghosts and I want to have a party.”

Cole puts his lips to my neck and pulls up the back of my dress, grabbing my bare ass-cheek. “As long as I get to fuck you first, I’m fine with that.”

“Good. I’m glad I have your blessing for your murder.” He sucks at my skin and I melt against him, cursing the fact that we’re not alone. “I had just gotten in the shower when the doorbell rang. I threw my dress on thinking I’d go back upstairs, but they’re up there now.”

“It worked out in my favor.”

I hook my arms around his shoulders, bringing my head back just enough so I can look into his eyes. “Is it terrible I’ll seriously take you up on your offer to have sex in the attic?”

“I was wondering the same thing. It is my house…I can do whatever the hell I want. And I want to fuck you right now.”

“Yeah, but…it’s weird,” I whisper and wrinkle my nose. I move closer and kiss him. “I think you’re going to have to wait until tonight.”

“The day is going to go so fucking slow knowing this is what I’m leaving.”

“I’ll send you naughty pictures.”

“Please do.” He pulls me close again before we break apart and sit down to eat.

“So, this meeting,” I start, picking up my sandwich which is mysteriously missing all the bacon on one side. “What do you have to do?”

“Usually go over numbers and discuss how feasible things are before moving forward with anything. A new imprint will mean more work for everyone, and Caitlin has been cheap with hiring additional employees to Black Ink in the past. But I’m hoping that since I’m being consid—” He cuts off, and for a second I think the housekeepers came down the stairs and he stopped talking so they wouldn’t hear him, like the news of a new imprint is actually top secret or something.

But they don’t come down the stairs, and Cole takes a big bite of his sandwich to keep from talking right away. It’s a bit odd, I suppose, having noted that Cole’s direct personality leads him to say pretty much whatever is on his mind. He’s not one to start and then stop something, especially not when it comes to me. I’ve never been good at reading people, and I try to see the good in everyone even when there’s not much good there to begin with. But I thought I had a good understanding of Cole, and one thing I know is that he’s honest, and that very trait is really fucking important to me.

“I’m hoping,” he starts again after he’s done chewing. “I’m hoping she’ll see the light on this one. New digital-only imprints are becoming very popular among the other publishing houses. It’s the best way we can keep up with Amazon, and there’s been a huge shift in the market the last few years for ebooks over print.”

“Right,” I say, wondering if it was just me or if Cole snapped into business-Cole again, abandoning the openness we’ve established with each other and falling back into dishing out facts, of keeping everything strictly professional.

Except, I know for a fact he wants to have sex.

What the hell? And people say women are complicated.

“Well, I hope it gets sorted out and I hope you’re not there long at all. Are you going to be home for dinner?”

“They have a caterer set up to bring dinner, so I’m guessing no. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I say with a shrug. “If we want to be a normal couple, we’re going to run into things like this. Real life, boring stuff. People work different hours and shifts and sometimes don’t see each other that much.”

Cole chuckles. “Write a book about that. Two people in a relationship just going about their lives, working and watching TV. Yet things are fine, right?”

“Better than fine. But where’s the fun in that? I need some drama and angst in my books.” I nudge his foot with mine and take another bite of my BLT. I actually got bacon that time.

We chat about work as we eat, and by the time we’re done, the housekeepers have already come downstairs. This is a big house, but there probably isn’t much to clean, besides doing a quick dust and vacuum. Cole seems to be pretty neat on his own. He says hello to Misha and Courtney, and introduces me as his girlfriend to them.