Incredible Times

Chapter 10

Bob places the last of my boxes on the hardwood floor of the kitchen, not even fazed by the amount of lifting he has done today.

He crosses his arms over his chest and says, "That's all of them."

I cross over to him from the opposite side of the room and place a hand on his forearm.

"Thank you so much for helping, Bob. It really saved me a lot of time and energy."

"Of course," he replies with a smile. "I mean, I kind of am morally obligated to help just because we're dating."

I lightly slap him on the shoulder before leaning in for a kiss.

When we separate, Bob asks, "Remind me exactly why you suddenly got hooked up with this  place."

"I've already told you," I reply, the taste in my mouth suddenly bitter. I walk over to the kitchen cupboards and start unloading my box of dishes, intentionally avoiding his eyes. "I was promoted by the firm, and they thought I could use a better space because I'm going to be working from home a lot more."

Truth: After my joyride on the Elasticycle, Carla asked if I had the accommodations to house a shiny, new motorcycle. Given that I lived on the third floor of a cramped apartment building, I shook my head in disappointment. Carla immediately made arrangements to find me a new place. Later that same evening, I was informed to pack up my belongings and be prepared to move in the following week.

The quaint house, concealed by a tangle of trees, couldn't be any more perfect. Although out of the way, all it took was a trip to the attached garage and a hop on the Elasticycle, and I could reach almost anywhere in the city within ten minutes. 

Carla had really outdone herself. First, a high-tech motorcycle that adapts to my powers, and now, a new home with plenty of space to stretch.

Bob snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Well, I've got to say, it's really nice."

I nod in response. "You know you're always welcome to drop by whenever you want."

I wrap my arms around him and rest my chin on his chest to look up at him.

"Careful, or I might just end up living on your couch," he teases.

I roll my eyes, but smile all the same.

We spend the next few hours unpacking as many boxes as possible, although exploring the house drains most of our time. In the end, we only manage to unpack the rest of the dishes, the sheets, and the bathroom towels, but it's plenty to survive one night.

A thought occurs to me as Bob and I stand on the back porch, surveying the backyard and the forest beyond it.

"Have you started reading the book I chose for you last weekend?" I ask.

Bob places a hand on the back of his neck.

"Uh... not really?"

"Bob! I thought we made a deal!"

"Well, have you been reading mine?" he retorts.

"Yes! I'm almost halfway done with it."

"Alright, alright," he surrenders. "I'll start reading it when I get home tonight."

I laugh and open the sliding glass door that leads back indoors. Once inside, we both flop down on the couch in the newly furnished living room, courtesy of Carla and the ASA.

Bob kicks his feet up onto the coffee table, and I snuggle into his side.

"I think we ought to celebrate this," he says after a while.