After all, the crowd was gone by then, and she could peruse the aisles as long as she wanted. Danielle never made a shopping list—simply meandered up and down each and every aisle until her eyes lit on something she needed.
Vance was gone too, out for his evening run. It seemed he’d picked up the frequency and length of his runs lately. Boston knew it was her fault. She figured Vance must be nearly as frustrated with his lack of privacy as Boston was with Steph’s hateful attitude. Yet Boston didn’t know what else to do.
She was so tired! Two more hours and she could go home. The apartment was quiet with Danielle and Vance gone, and Boston bathed in the calm quiet. The low hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, and the steady droll of passing traffic on the street beyond served as a soothing white noise, and Boston drifted into a deep, rather hard sleep.
Boston heard the apartment door open but couldn’t seem to force herself to full waking. She tried to open her eyes, to force her body to alertness, to sit up. She wondered for a moment if Danielle had returned from grocery shopping or if it were Vance coming in after his evening run. Yet even the foggy, semiconscious knowledge it might indeed be Vance did not rouse Boston thoroughly.
In the next moment, she could sense someone standing over her. Wake up , her mind demanded. Yet great emotional and physical fatigue was weighing her down.
She did manage to mumble, “Just give me a minute. I’ll be up in a minute.”
“This is just bull…” Vance said, his voice trailing off as he swore under his breath. “That chick’s unreal!” he growled.
It was Vance standing over her! Boston forced dry, tired eyes open and gasped as she felt herself suddenly being lifted off the sofa, cradled in powerful arms.
Even startled as she was, Boston’s drowsy state handicapped her. As her arms weakly encircled Vance’s neck as he carried her, she argued, “What the heck, Vance? I’ll leave in minute. Just let me wake up a little bit.”
“How much stuff do you have over in your apartment?” he asked as he carried her toward the bedroom.
“Not a lot,” Boston answered. She was quickly regaining her bearings. He smelled like Juicy Fruit and warm night air. The back of his neck was moist with perspiration, and Boston was astonished that she didn’t mind. “Why?”
“Well, you’re moving in here Saturday, and I just wanted to get an idea of how long it’s going to take us to get your stuff out of there and over here.”
“What are you talking about? And what are you doing?” Boston asked as Vance nudged the door to his bedroom open with one foot.
“I got a call today, and my house is ready,” he explained as he walked toward the bed. “I can move in Saturday. All my stuff is already there because it’s been stored in the garage. So I figure we’ve all had enough of this skank roommate of yours, so we’ll just spend Saturday moving you in here. Meanwhile, you’re gonna take a nap before you go home tonight. I’ve got some paperwork I’ve got to fill out for the zoo before I can go to bed. So you take a little nap. I’ll only charge you ten bucks an hour to use my bed. So for twenty bucks, you ought to be a little better rested before you go back to that wench you’ve been sharing an apartment with…if you can call the fact that she won’t hardly let you breathe the air there sharing an apartment.”
Abruptly, yet somehow gently, Vance dropped Boston onto his bed.
Boston opened her mouth to argue, but he said, “In fact, because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll knock off the bed rental fee…give you a cut-rate deal on a nap. How does free sound? I’ll wake you up in an hour or so. Enjoy the witch-free-zone peace and quiet.”
He turned to leave.
“Wait a minute,” Boston said. “You’re moving out Saturday? This Saturday?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “I’m stoked too!
Vance was gone too, out for his evening run. It seemed he’d picked up the frequency and length of his runs lately. Boston knew it was her fault. She figured Vance must be nearly as frustrated with his lack of privacy as Boston was with Steph’s hateful attitude. Yet Boston didn’t know what else to do.
She was so tired! Two more hours and she could go home. The apartment was quiet with Danielle and Vance gone, and Boston bathed in the calm quiet. The low hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, and the steady droll of passing traffic on the street beyond served as a soothing white noise, and Boston drifted into a deep, rather hard sleep.
Boston heard the apartment door open but couldn’t seem to force herself to full waking. She tried to open her eyes, to force her body to alertness, to sit up. She wondered for a moment if Danielle had returned from grocery shopping or if it were Vance coming in after his evening run. Yet even the foggy, semiconscious knowledge it might indeed be Vance did not rouse Boston thoroughly.
In the next moment, she could sense someone standing over her. Wake up , her mind demanded. Yet great emotional and physical fatigue was weighing her down.
She did manage to mumble, “Just give me a minute. I’ll be up in a minute.”
“This is just bull…” Vance said, his voice trailing off as he swore under his breath. “That chick’s unreal!” he growled.
It was Vance standing over her! Boston forced dry, tired eyes open and gasped as she felt herself suddenly being lifted off the sofa, cradled in powerful arms.
Even startled as she was, Boston’s drowsy state handicapped her. As her arms weakly encircled Vance’s neck as he carried her, she argued, “What the heck, Vance? I’ll leave in minute. Just let me wake up a little bit.”
“How much stuff do you have over in your apartment?” he asked as he carried her toward the bedroom.
“Not a lot,” Boston answered. She was quickly regaining her bearings. He smelled like Juicy Fruit and warm night air. The back of his neck was moist with perspiration, and Boston was astonished that she didn’t mind. “Why?”
“Well, you’re moving in here Saturday, and I just wanted to get an idea of how long it’s going to take us to get your stuff out of there and over here.”
“What are you talking about? And what are you doing?” Boston asked as Vance nudged the door to his bedroom open with one foot.
“I got a call today, and my house is ready,” he explained as he walked toward the bed. “I can move in Saturday. All my stuff is already there because it’s been stored in the garage. So I figure we’ve all had enough of this skank roommate of yours, so we’ll just spend Saturday moving you in here. Meanwhile, you’re gonna take a nap before you go home tonight. I’ve got some paperwork I’ve got to fill out for the zoo before I can go to bed. So you take a little nap. I’ll only charge you ten bucks an hour to use my bed. So for twenty bucks, you ought to be a little better rested before you go back to that wench you’ve been sharing an apartment with…if you can call the fact that she won’t hardly let you breathe the air there sharing an apartment.”
Abruptly, yet somehow gently, Vance dropped Boston onto his bed.
Boston opened her mouth to argue, but he said, “In fact, because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll knock off the bed rental fee…give you a cut-rate deal on a nap. How does free sound? I’ll wake you up in an hour or so. Enjoy the witch-free-zone peace and quiet.”
He turned to leave.
“Wait a minute,” Boston said. “You’re moving out Saturday? This Saturday?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “I’m stoked too!
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