I climbed off of him, cupping my hand between my legs to catch any errant drips. Why was reality always full of annoying details like this? “I’ll be right back,” I said as I walked toward the bathroom, “Stay right where you are.”

Rose petals still covered the bathroom from top to bottom. All of the candles had gone out, save one.

One candle.

I looked around the room. Wasn’t there one other candle still burning? Two strong flames burning bright, side by side?

No. There was only the one.

The one.

I shuddered and blinked away fresh tears. I almost doubled over in agony.

Christos…

“You okay in there?” he called from the bedroom.

“Yeah,” I choked out hoarsely, “just a second.”

After I composed myself, I looked around and grabbed a hand towel off the rack and returned to the bedroom. I crawled onto the bed and kneeled next to Christos. I gently wiped him clean, swirling the towel around his stomach and his thighs.

“Ready to shower?” I asked.

“After you,” he said as he propped himself up on his muscled, tattooed arms.

I held out my hand to him and he took it. I led him off the bed and into the bathroom, where we showered together.

After we dressed, we went downstairs.

“What do you want to eat?” he asked.

“I’ll make it,” I said confidently. “Sit down and relax.”

“Giving orders now?”

“Yep,” I grinned.

“We have leftovers from last night,” he suggested, “tons of lamb. I always love protein for breakfast.”

“Zip it. I’ve got it.” I opened the fridge and scanned the contents. There sure were a lot of leftovers. I hated to let food go to waste and I wasn’t above taking suggestions. I grabbed some veggies, the lamb and onions from last night, and cooked omelets for both of us. I also made toast and poured some orange juice.

“What are you going to do today?” I asked.

Christos finished chewing on a slice of buttered toast and wiped his face with a napkin. “Move you in, remember?”

“Oh yeah.”

“I need your key. Don’t forget to call your apartment manager.”

“I’ll do it right now. I don’t want you getting hassled.” I jogged upstairs and dug my phone out of my purse. I called my manager and explained everything before going back downstairs. “Christos, are you sure you don’t want me to help move stuff?”

“No, I’ll handle everything,” he smiled. “You won’t have to lift a finger. It’s my gift to you.”

“That’s so sweet, agápi mou,” I said, “but I kind of feel like ditching classes today.”

“Which classes?”

“Today? Oil Painting and Figurative Sculpting.”

“Oh, you can’t skip those,” Christos said firmly. “I mean, Marjorie would totally miss you in sculpting.”

“The Bitchinger?”

Christos chuckled. “Yeah. Can’t let her down. How’s she been treating you lately?”

“Like her favorite student,” I grinned.

“You must’ve done something to please her.”

“I think please is too pleasant a word,” I grinned.

Christos arched an eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”

“No, otherwise I’d have to kill you,” I winked.

We finished breakfast and headed out the door together. I stood in the entryway as Christos locked up behind us. I felt like we were a married couple heading off to work. It was so domestically romantic I wanted to hug myself.

“Isn’t Spiridon home?” I asked.

“No, he had to take care of some stuff. I think he’ll be back late.”

“Okay. If I get back to the house before you, is it okay for me to come in?”

“Of course, agápi mou. You live here now. Come and go as you please.”

Wow, I really liked the sound of that.

Christos started loading up his Camaro with the packing materials while I hopped into my VW and drove to campus.

Getting through my day was harder than I’d expected. Nagging in the shadows of my mind, like someone continuously tapping the back of my head with two stiff fingers, was the awareness that Christos was going to court in less than twenty-four hours.

I tried to joke around with Romeo and Kamiko in Oil Painting to distract myself, but it didn’t help. Somehow, everything made me think of jail. The paint that was trapped in the tube until I uncapped it and squeezed some out onto my palette. The fruit stuck in the bowl on the pillar in the middle of the studio until someone else decided to move it. Sure, Christos wasn’t an inanimate object, but if he ended up in jail, he’d have as much control over life as paint or fruit did. None.

Lameness.

After class, I had no appetite, so I left Romeo and Kamiko to get lunch by themselves.

I went to the library to study some Sociology and History. My grades in both classes had continued to sink.

Despite the quiet environment of the library, no matter how hard I tried to concentrate, I couldn’t remember a single word of what I read. I packed up my bags and went to Figurative Sculpting. Hunter Blakeley was still the model, but he had become invisible to me. He was just a big brainless slab of tanned muscle and blond hair. Whatever. He didn’t even look at me anymore. Thank goodness for small favors.

When class was over, Romeo and I walked out together.

“Did you give your photo of the rugby buttplugs to the campus police yet?” Romeo asked as he squinched his monocle into place.

“Oh, I totally forgot about those jerks. Do you think there’s any point in giving it to them now? I mean, what if they go track the other guys down and the next thing we know, the cops are looking for Christos so they can ask him questions? Or worse?”

“Good point.”

“I’ll hang onto it for now. Who knows, maybe I’ll need it later to prove Christos’ innocence.” Something clunked into place in my head the moment those words were out of my mouth. I felt my eyes saucer in surprise. “Oh my god! That’s it!”

“What’s it?” Romeo was totally confused.

“Thank you so much, Romeo!” I hugged him and shook him vigorously. “I have to go to the library and look something up right now!”

“You look like you just won the lottery or something,” Romeo smiled. “Care to share?”

“No time! I’ll tell you later!” I kissed Romeo on the cheek and sprinted to the Main Library, which had a super fast internet connection.

“If you win more than ten million bucks,” Romeo hollered at my back, “you have to give me at least a hundred grand!”

“Will do,” I laughed over my shoulder.

* * *

My search online proved fruitless. After two hours of trying, I gave up and trudged to my car. Maybe my idea hadn’t been so smart. Grrr.

I drove to my apartment out of habit, mulling over other options in my head. Nothing came to mind by the time I parked in my assigned space in the parking lot. I walked upstairs and opened my door. Everything was gone. My furniture, my clothes, my art supplies, my dishes. Everything.

“That was quick,” I said out loud. For a second, I nervously thought perhaps I had been robbed, but I knew it was just Christos. There was a Post-It stuck to the front door that read simply, ‘All Finished!’

 The carpet was immaculate and didn’t have a single foot print in it, just overlapping diagonal lines from the carpet machine. I was loathe to mar the perfect surface, but I wanted to check the kitchen and bathroom. I stepped inside to investigate. Yup, everything had been scrubbed to a sparkling shine.

I locked up and drove to Christos’ house. I meant, my house. Grin!

A big pickup truck was coming out of the driveway as I was turning in. Jake was driving. Two blond and tan surfing buddies of his sat in the cab next to him.

Jake stopped and rolled down his window.

I stopped my VW beside his cab. “Oh my god, Jake! You guys cleaned me out! And cleaned up too! My place is spotless. I didn’t think guys were capable of such things,” I grinned.

Christos came walking up between our cars at that moment. “You kidding? Haven’t you heard of the Twelve Labors of Hercules? One of them was to clean all the shit out of the Augean Stables in a single day. They had thirty years of built up filth. Your place was worse.”

I swatted at Christos from my seat in my VW. “Jerk!”

He dodged away easily and chuckled. “Hercules wouldn’t have stood a chance at your apartment!”

“My apartment wasn’t that dirty!” I shouted. “Tell him, Jake!”

Jake smiled, his teeth a bright white stripe shining from his tanned face. How did he manage to stay so tan, even in winter? I guess surfing seven days a week was better than a tanning club membership.

“Between you and me,” Jake chuckled, “Christos took a lot of breaks.” He shot a glance at Christos. “I mean, a lot of breaks.”

“Totally,” the two cute guys sitting next to Jake chorused.

“Dude,” Christos sneered, “you guys were asleep the whole time. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be napping on Samantha’s couch.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “You’re smoking crack, bro.”

I smiled at Jake. “I’m sure Christos didn’t lift a finger, so thank you Jake, and you guys too,” I said to Jake’s cute surfer buddies sitting next to him in the truck.

I noticed the large steam cleaning vacuum in the back of the pickup. “You guys even shampooed my carpet.”

“Yeah,” Jake said, “a buddy of mine has a steam cleaning business. He let me borrow one of his rigs for the day.”

“Do I owe you guys any money?”

“It’s on the house,” Jake smiled.

“Thanks, Jake. So, how did you guys work so fast? I mean, everything is finished and it’s still early.”