Cole's place was nothing like I expected.
I don't know what I expected exactly. Something that reflected its owner, probably practical, efficient, the functional bachelor space of a man who spent most of his time thinking about other people's problems. What I got was a house that had clearly been lived in with genuine affection. Books on every surface. A kitchen that showed evidence of real cooking. Plants on the windowsill that were alive and well-tended, which told me more about Cole than anything else could have.
A man who kept plants alive was a man who paid attention to things that couldn't ask for what they needed.
Sera had claimed the larger bedroom and I had taken the smaller one at the end of the hall, which suited me because it had one window with a clear sightline to the stre
