Connor
My townhouse in Edinburgh had never felt so loud.
I was sprawled on the couch, one arm thrown over my eyes, trying to pretend that buying a nine million pound house in York hadn't completely upended everyone's lives.
Melanie was pacing in front of the fireplace. Back and forth. Back and forth. She'd been doing it for ten minutes.
"I just moved from Phoenix to live with you," she said, stopping suddenly. "And you just went ahead and bought a nine million pound house in York!"
I blinked up at her. "And?"
"And!" she said, throwing her hands up. "So what's going to happen to the townhouse?"
"Nothing," I said. "Nothing's going to happen to the townhouse."
She paused mid-pace. "Oh."
"Oh what?"
"Oh, so where am I supposed to go?"
I couldn't help it. I laughed. "Mel. You can stay here."
She stared at me. "Oh. Then is the main bedroom going to stay empty?"
Ah. There it was.
I sat up, grinning. "If you want the main bedroom, you should just say so."
