Only you | Derek Morgan

Knock twice if you need help

L A Y L A ' S   P O V

"Holy fucking shit."

I don't know what I was expecting Derek's house to look like but for him to live in a two story, what I would call a family home, wasn't it.

I followed behind his truck all the way here from work, across town to a much quieter suburb until we turned down a quaint residential street, pulling onto the double driveway of a house I could only ever dream of living in some day.

The whole front of the house has bay windows. Bay fucking windows. I can already imagine myself sitting there on a winter night when it's snowing outside, curled up with a book. Not that I'm imagining living here or anything. That would be weird. We're not even dating and—

I jolt when there's a knock on the drivers side window of my car and I blink away my gawking at the house and shake my overthinking away to find Derek waiting for me outside my car.

He pulls open my door, holding out his hand for me. He laughs, his eyes shining with amusement. "Are you coming in or do you want to stare all day?"

I unbuckle my seatbelt and grab my bag from the backseat and hop out of the car. "This house is really nice, Derek. Like really nice."

"Thank you," Derek says before he carries my bag for me, lacing our fingers together while he guides me up the stone paved pathway to the porch.

"Why the hell have we been spending time at my shitty apartment when you live here?"

Derek's shrug tells me he either can't or doesn't want to get into that right now. So I drop it and watch as he slides his key into the dark wooden front door, a door big enough that a family of giraffes could fit through.

He stands back and lets me walk in before him to the entryway and the inside of his house is just as beautiful as the outside. The first thing my eyes find are the polished wood floors and a graceful banister that curves up as the stairs ascends to the second floor. I do a slow spin, taking in the open plan area of the first floor. The living room is on the right and the kitchen and dinning area are on the left.

It's very modern and clearly freshly renovated. I know Derek does all the renovations himself and I didn't doubt his abilities, but he must have spent practically all his spare time on it because even from a quick glance it looks amazing.

"Go snoop," Derek says, casually throwing his keys down on the side table. He hangs up my bag on the coat rack, shooting me a teasing wink over his shoulder. "I know you want to."

I pause before I cross the threshold to the living room, slipping off my shoes before I step onto the cream colored carpet. The biggest tv I've ever seen is mounted on the wall above the mantle and sleek fireplace. I so badly want to jump on and sink into the plush cushions of the sectional sofa and I would if I wasn't wearing wet clothes.

The soft carpet sinks beneath my feet as I move over to the bookcase against the back wall that's filled with books I know Derek hasn't read because he's a wait for the movie type guy.

Derek is leaning one shoulder against the doorframe and I can feel his admiring eyes watching me as I move around the room, his phone to his ear while he orders us pizza.

The bottom level of the bookshelf has some framed family photos. My heart tugs in my chest when I pick up the picture frame of Derek, who's no older than five, and his dad. He's in his dad's arms and they're both smiling brightly at the camera.