e bathroom door open, then the front door open and close. For a long, hollow moment, she thought he had walked out for good-that the mar

suitcases and a large cardboard box. He looked slightly better than he had an hour ago-the fever had broken, a

he asked, pointin

n the world. "Until I find a suitable place, I'm staying here. It'

wasn't built for a giant of a man with expensive luggage,

er into the small guest room. She heard him

She watched as he pulled out stacks of clothes. Basic, boring items. Grey t-shirts, bl

into a closet in the hallway. He opened the lid, dumped every single piec

She hated germs, she hated dirt, and she absolut

ing?" she asked,

ied, pouring a capful of dete

colors will bleed. And those are wool sweaters!"

e until it clicked onto "Heavy Duty/Whites." Then he pulled out

een her and the machine. "That's the industrial cycle! It's for d

shut and pressed the start button. The machine roar

watching a car crash in slow motion. "You're a barbarian," she

n her hands. How was she supposed to live with a man

unter, holding her French press. He was scooping ground coffee into the carafe with a precision that surprise

with deliberate, even pressure and poured a single

en up at him. "You know h

for himself. He took a sip, his eyes closing f

esitant sip, the warmth spreading through her

ulled out the clothes. Jaimie watched from a distan

d the dark colors hadn't bled into the whites. They were just... exceptionally clean. They smelled lik

wasn't careless. He just didn't care about the things normal people cared

ange," she

r, one eyebrow

you make coffee like a barista," she said. "You say you ha

Jaimie," he said quietly

was the only item in the bag that was on a hanger, encased in a dry-cleaning b

ished, professional, and completely unapproachable. The soft, feverish man

g a simple, sleeveless blue dress. It felt inadequate

checking his watch. "Ci

t knot. The coffee turned to acid in her throat

stranger who washed his clothes on the sanitize cycle and