I wrapped my arms around myself, shaking my head. I laughed under my breath, a sharp, hysterical sound that didn’t feel humorous at all.
God, I was fucking loosing it.
“Okay,” I told the empty apartment, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Okay. You are spiraling.”
I’d fed Sasha enough small details that, if someone were motivated and terrifyingly competent—
There was a knock on my door.
I stared at it, frozen, the crunch of cereal under my bare foot echoing in my ears, my heart in my mouth. There was absolutely no reason on earth for this to be him.
None.
I crept towards the door anyway. Guess we were about to find out how many lives this curious cat right here had left.
My breath came in short bursts as I tried to move towards the door as quietly as possible, straining to hear anything. It was probably just Mrs. Mendoza from down the hall, needing some sugar or something.
Curse you, cheap-ass landlords, for not even giving us doors with a freaking peephole!
As I pulled the door open, my eyes almost popped out of my head. Eric, Princess’s owner, was standing in the hallway as though he’d been invited. His glasses were slightly crooked, his hands were in his pockets and he had the same too-wide smile on his face.
“Eric? What are you doing here?”
“Hi,” he replied cheerfully. “I knew you probably wanted me to come and help. So … here I am.”
I stood rooted to the spot, blinking at him. “Oh. Um … hey! You really didn’t have to—”
He stepped inside anyway, casually bypassing my frozen body, as if I’d invited him inside. The door clicked shut as he softly closed it behind him.
“No, no,” he said, smiling faintly. “I couldn’t stomach not being here for you. This moving business, it’s too much to shoulder alone. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t help you with this.”
Aside from a virtual stranger digging through my things?
I turned, trying to make sense of the words. When he disappeared into the living room, my limbs finally unfroze, and I stalked after him. He sounded incredibly invested in all of this.Why did I have to ramble in front of him?
“There’s really no need,” I said, gesturing toward the sea of boxes and tape. “Honestly, I—”
“Nonsense,” he interrupted, stepping closer, peering into one of the boxes like it was a precious artifact. “I know you secretly wanted me to help. Why else would you have told me about it? I couldn’t not come to help you.”
I swallowed, frowning slightly. “And that’s really so nice of you. But I’ve got this.”
His eyes sparkled — too bright, too keen. “No! Impossible. You cannot be fine. Not with this. Look at the chaos. I know you have to be overwhelmed. And I have a responsibility. To you. To make sure it goes well.”
I shifted awkwardly. “Uh … do you? I mean, again, I appreciate it, but—”
He crouched down next to a half-packed box as if he’d done this a thousand times before, carefully arranging a stack of shirts.
“See? That’s better already. Much better. If I’m not here, who will ensure everything gets done just right?”
I blinked. “What?”
“You’ll see why I’m indispensable.” He straightened, stepping over a jumble of towels, eyes flicking around the room as though memorizing every detail. “And I can also catalog items. Inventory. You’ll thank me later.”
Okay, this was getting super weird.
I crossed my arms, laughing nervously. “Um, look, Eric … I really don’t know if this is such a good idea.”
“Of course it is! We’ll get this done in no time and we’ll have so much fun together. And I brought snacks, too.” He grinned, but it was too wide and too eager.