We breeze through the kitchen and stop in the connected laundry room. A single window with drawn blinds allows the sun to bathe the space in natural light.
“Do you know how to scoop litter?” Edward nods at the box in the corner by the dryer.
“Yep,” I nod. “I grew up with several pet cats.”
“Good. Once a day is fine.” We drift back into the kitchen and walk to the other side where two bowls sit by the breakfast bar. One is filled with water, the other with dry kibble. “Please refill his food bowl in the morning. He won’t finish it, but that’s okay. I like food to be available just in case. Refill his water bowl with fresh water, too.”
“That’s easy enough,” I remark.
Edward raises his eyebrow. “You’d think so, right? I really didn’t ask John for much.”
I snort. “How did you and John ever get mixed up anyway? He’s like the least responsible person I know.”
“Clearly.” Edward sighs. “I caught him lounging in my hammock a few nights ago. He had his feet up, a joint between his fingers, acting like he owned the place. When I first smelled it, I thought I had a skunk in my backyard. With a frat house next door, I never know for sure.”
I stifle a laugh. “Ah, I see.”
“I honestly don’t care what you boys do,” Edward says, sounding very fatherly all of a sudden. “But I don’t appreciate people trespassing on my property.”
“Of course not,” I say agreeably.
“At first John gave me a lot of attitude, saying I was overreacting. But then he changed his tune when I told him I was calling the cops. He said he’d do anything to make it up to me. I was already in a bind because my regular house sitter injured her ankle and is on bed rest for the next few days. So I figured having a neighbor help out would be the perfect arrangement. John and I exchanged numbers. I texted him last night to confirm we were still on, and he wrote back yes.”
I shake my head. “John was already at the beach last night.”
“That little punk.”
“Yeah, that’s John.” I chuckle. “If you don’t mind my asking, why’d you buy a place next to a frat house anyway? Our house can get pretty noisy, and uh, kinda skunky.”
“I didn’t buy a place next to a frat house,” Edward says pointedly. “This is one of the original houses on the block, built in 1943. It’s been in my family for five generations. The university bought your place and converted it into a frat house in the ‘90s. It’s been a nuisance ever since. I could probably make half a million selling my place today, but nobody wants to buy a house next to a fraternity.”
“Oh. Got it.” I smile sheepishly. “So, uh, your plants?”
Edward nods toward the living room. A fern hangs by the window, and there are several potted plants throughout the room. “I’ve already watered them for today. Give them a little water in the morning. There are also a few plants in my bedroom and bathroom.”
That same strange stirring takes over as I follow behind Edward to the sunlit room at the end of the hallway. I watch the way he moves. There’s a confident glide to his gate, smooth with a feline prowess. He keeps his head high, his shoulders back and chest out.
“The palm doesn’t need any water,” he says, looking toward the potted tree by the bedroom window. “Just the ones in the bathroom.”
We step into the oversized bathroom suite, which looks newly renovated with smooth granite countertops in earth tones. “A little water for that one,” he says, pointing up to a viny plant that hangs from a ceiling basket. “And that one is fine.” He tilts his head toward the small succulent in the window sill.
I give the place a quick once-over, and that’s when my eyes wander back toward the bedroom, where a long black device sits on his night table, cradled in a charger. It has a futuristic design, like some sort of joystick. I wonder if it’s a high-tech game controller.
“Wow, what’s that?” I shuffle into the bedroom to get a closer peek.
Edward sweeps up beside me, snatches the device from its dock and stuffs it into a drawer. “It’s a stress reliever,” he says, clearing his throat.
Then it all comes together in a flash. The flared base, the bulbous tip. I suddenly realize it’s a sex toy. “Sorry,” I say, feeling my cheeks getting hot.
“No worries.” Edward claps his hands together. “If that’s everything, I think I’ll head out.”
“Yep, everything makes sense.”
We exchange numbers and I agree to give him an update tonight. “It probably goes without saying,” he adds with a stern look in his eyes, “but don’t throw any parties here and don’t bring any guests over while I’m gone.”
“Definitely not,” I agree. And because it somehow feels warranted, I add, “Sir.”
Edward smiles approvingly. “Good, I’m glad we’re on the same page. Thanks for doing this for me.”