"Hell yeah! That would be awesome," Zeke exclaimed. "Then I wouldn't need to worry about finding an apartment." His reaction initially caught me off guard. I figured he would want to think it over before giving me an answer, but he seems as excited as I am. I felt at ease with my decision to buy a house and with Zeke being a roommate. Knowing my best friend would be there with me on this new adventure gave me peace of mind and made me feel safe.
The ding of my laptop catches our attention. Hopefully, Mick has sent me some listings. Quickly, I get up and grab my laptop off the kitchen table and sit back down on the couch. I opened it quickly and scrolled through my emails. The first one was from Mick.
"Z, get your but over here and look at these listings Mick sent me." There were seven property listings in total; four were in Sugar Creek. Zeke sat down beside me on the couch and leaned in, his woodsy scent overtaking me. I savored the feel of his body pressing against my side as we sat staring at the screen. I leaned into him a little bit more to relish the moment as I opened the email.
The first two listings didn't have anything I wanted; other than that, they were in Sugar Creek. They didn't offer much land with the houses, and they were in the middle of town. I wanted something on the outskirts. I clicked on the third listing and was struck with an indescribable feeling as I looked at the pictures. All I knew for sure was it felt familiar, and instantly, I thought, "This is it, this is the one, my new home."
It was a two-story farmhouse with peeling white paint, a stunning wrap-around porch, and a gazebo in one corner. The interior photos only reinforced my feeling that the house was perfect for me. The kitchen was spacious, with an island in the center, and plenty of cabinets for storage. The library was on the first floor, featuring large bay windows. The staircase had a beautiful oak finish that matched the rest of the house's woodwork. A few areas needed cosmetic updates, like a fresh coat of paint and minor repairs. With Zeke's help, I knew we could turn this house into my dream home. The best part was the seven acres of land – plenty for hosting cookouts and parties. After looking through the house photos, I turned to Zeke for his opinion and asked,
"What do you think of this one? I'm thinking it's the one." Zeke leaned in closer to the screen to get a better look at the listing. His movement sent a shiver down my arm, making me edge away from him a bit. He didn't seem to notice my actions; he was focused on the property. I really hope he felt the same as me. I value his opinion of the listing; I want him to feel right at home.
He finally shifts his gaze toward me, "I think the house has good bones and definitely has that charming, down-home look and feel, reminiscent of cozy country life. However, based on the pictures, it could use some work. Luckily, you're fortunate to know a good-looking handyman who can help make it your dream home a reality," he joked, with a warm smile spreading across his face.
Laughing, I playfully shove his shoulder. The doorbell rings loudly, bringing us out of our conversation about the house. Opening the door, we see a delivery person with our food. My stomach makes a loud growling noise, showing it has been neglected and needs attention. The sound made Z laugh. It wasn't my fault; you could smell the savory smell of the subs and garlic bread wafting through the open door. Looking at the bags of food made my stomach growl again loudly in anticipation. Zeke thanks the delivery person and hands me the food. As I walk to the kitchen table, he makes a detour for the kitchen to grab a couple of cans of cola out of the fridge and heads back to me, sitting down across from me at my small kitchen table.
We eat our subs while chatting about our week. This routine of ours has helped me through some of the toughest times in my life. I feel so comfortable around him that I'm not afraid to express how I feel, that is, everything but how I feel about him. I'm a cliché, I guess you could say, because I'm in love with my best friend. My heart races, and butterflies feel like they have taken flight in my belly at every innocent touch or look from him. I've often sat around and daydreamed about his reaction to my feelings, but never dared to confess them to him. My biggest fear is he will reject me and it will affect our relationship as friends. So for now, I will keep these feelings bottled up.
We always ended our nights in the same way: watching a movie together. Each night, we took turns choosing what to watch, and tonight was his turn. He chose a horror film, a genre I usually avoided, but I didn't mind — it was just another excuse to be close to him. As the movie played, I found myself drawn into his presence, feeling safe and comforted. Somewhere along the way, I must have dozed off because I woke up to something unexpected. Zeke's gentle touch was caressing my hair, his fingers lazily drifting through the strands. My head had softly fallen into his lap, and he was smiling down at me, a tender, affectionate smile that made my heart flutter. His eyes held a warmth that felt like home, and I could sense the care in his touch. Emboldened by his gaze, I slowly sat up, feeling a mix of shyness and longing as I pushed myself away from him just enough to look into his eyes more clearly. Zeke then stood up from the couch, stretching leisurely, his movements smooth and relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world to enjoy this quiet, intimate moment.
"Good night, Rocky. I'll call you sometime tomorrow," he whispered softly, his voice warm with affection. He leaned down and gently kissed the crown of my head, his fingers lingering for a moment before he straightened up and quietly left the room. The door closed with a soft click behind him, leaving a faint echo of footsteps fading away. After he was gone, I glanced around the living room, noticing the subtle details—the scattered magazines, the dim glow of the evening light filtering through the curtains, and the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. I quickly tidied up the space, stacking the cushions and smoothing out the crumpled throw blanket. A wave of exhaustion washed over me, heavy and slow, like a dense fog settling deep into my bones. I moved toward my bedroom, each step feeling weighted and deliberate, until I finally sank onto the mattress. Sliding beneath the cool, smooth sheets, I felt the soft fabric embrace me. As I closed my eyes, darkness enveloped my vision, and my body seemed to melt into the mattress, surrendering to sleep.
I found myself in a strange dream about my mom. All day, I had wondered if she would be proud of me for this milestone in my life, but what I saw in the dream was unsettling. She was standing outside the house I had wanted to buy, but her expression was twisted with sorrow. Tears streamed down her face, and her eyes held a pleading look that made my stomach tighten. I tried to reach out, but she recoiled, as if afraid of me. Every attempt to bridge the gap only seemed to push her further away, increasing my panic. Suddenly, the sharp ring of the alarm clock snapped me back to reality. I awoke feeling shaken, clutching the sheets. Was my mom trying to send me a warning through that dream, or was my mind playing tricks on me? I pushed the chilling feeling aside and got up, but the sense of unease lingered.