I cleared my throat and moved away, feeling bad I’d crossed a line. He acted like nothing had happened, rolling out of bed and stretching. “So? Did it help?” “I wasn’t thinking about my dog when I woke up,” I muttered, not specifying what I had been thinking of. “Well, that’s a start. I’m going to go pull out those box springs and clean up the garage. Have fun writing.” And just like that, he slid into his flip flops and walked out of the room. I blinked after him. He was odd and a little too perky. Then again, I wasn’t normal and I needed some perky in my life. I went back to my office and wrote for a few hours until I was dying for a smoke. I decided to have it in the garage and check out what he was up to. His head shot up when I opened the door, bright smile on his face. “Lily, your garage is the bomb. Little TV, Wi-Fi Blu-ray player, iPod player, fan, little heater, mini fridge—the works!” “Yeah, I’m spoiled,” I chuckled as I lit a smoke. “I always wanted an author cave instead of a bat cave or man cave.
