Chapter 8

Of Lud, I had hardly seen him since our last conversation. He seemed to be coming when I was going, and vice versa. I gave property management official notice of my move-out date, and left a note for Lud on the refrigerator.

The day of the move, I had worked the night before, but tired as I was, I wanted to get it over with. When I came home, I saw a bunch of men and women in my apartment boxing up items, and I dodged two people moving my couch.

“What the hell is going on here?” I asked no one in particular.

“You need help moving, but you’re too stubborn to ask for it,” Lud said.

I whirled to my left to give him a piece of my mind, ignoring how hot he looked with sweat running down his strong, sculpted arms, tank top clinging to his firm chest. It was a ridiculously hot day, and it wasn’t even ten yet.

I refused to get distracted. “You know me so well, do you?”