"Good morning," Clayton says with a smile, and I step back to let him into the apartment. He pauses for just a moment when he sees Selene, and I wait for the questions—but he doesn't ask any.
He's polite like that.
Honestly, outside of my paranoia and not wanting to rely on him, he seems like a pretty great guy.
Clayton strides into the kitchen like he owns it—which, I mean, he does—while I stand around feeling awkward and out of place in this fancy apartment. He seems so at home here, like he belongs.
"Everything okay with the phone?" he calls out from the kitchen. "You didn't text me this morning."
"Oh, uh, no issues," I reply, glancing down at the sleek new device on the end table. "I just woke up a little while ago and haven't set it up yet."
There's a brief pause, and then the sound of a pot clattering onto the stove. "Have you eaten?"
I shake my head, even though he can't see me. "No, not yet."
