Jane just looked at the big, curvy letters in blues and greens that spelled out her name. Well, they spelled out J-A-N because the E hadn’t been filled in yet. There were mountains and trees sketched out around her name, also not yet painted.
“The paint’s oil based,” Charlotte said. “More permanent than Sharpie. Just to hammer home the point that this room is yours and only yours. Also, I had to watch YouTube videos on how to draw the mountains and trees, so if that’s not love . . . Oh, and I printed up a billion-year rental agreement for you on your dresser. Sign it.”
A billion-year rental agreement. Clearly, Charlotte had lost her noodles. “But—”
“No. No buts. We’re doing this.” She paused. “You’re not going to freak out, are you?”
“I’m trying,” Jane said slowly. “But I think I’m too tired for a freak-out.” She grabbed a paintbrush and started filling in a tree.
Charlotte just stared at her.
“What?”
“You’re never too tired to freak out when you think you’re putting down roots by accident.”
Jane just kept painting, concentrating very hard on the tree, making sure to fill it in just right.
Charlotte gave a low laugh. “You slept with Levi again. You must really like him. Like really, really like him. As in maybe even love him.”
“I don’t know.” Jane bit her lower lip. “Okay, maybe. But we’re not talking about it. Because if we did talk about it, I’d be putting it out there in the universe for karma to mess it all up somehow. That’s how my life goes, you know. The good stuff isn’t ever real. So yeah . . . not talking about it. Ever.”
“Jane.” Charlotte got to her feet. “You do realize you deserve to be loved just like any other girl.”
Jane couldn’t help it, she hugged Charlotte. “Yeah, and right back at you, babe.” She stepped back and took a closer look at Charlotte and laughed. “You want to tell me why your shirt’s on backwards?”
“Um . . . I dressed in the dark?”
“Uh-huh,” Jane said, fascinated by Charlotte’s sudden blush. “And the love bite on your throat?”
“Shit.” Charlotte slapped a hand right to the spot. With her free hand she jabbed her paintbrush in Jane’s direction. “You know what? I’m pulling a Jane. We’re not talking about it. Ever. Because if we were to talk about it, that would be putting it out there into the universe for karma to mess it up somehow.”
Jane stared at her for a long beat. “Fair. So . . . we’re just going to paint?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Jane dipped her brush into the paint again. “Just tell me it was Mateo.”
Charlotte grinned dopily. “It was Mateo.”
Jane laughed, then stilled at the unmistakable meow right behind her. She turned and found Cat sitting there in the hallway, watching with her sharp gray eyes. “How did you get back inside?”
“I’ve got the basement window cracked open,” Charlotte said.
Cat sauntered closer, all the way to Jane’s door, which she gave a light, half-assed scratch to with her front paw.
“I think she’s knocking,” Charlotte said dryly.
Jane opened her bedroom door.
Cat stared at her for a long beat, then walked inside, head and tail high, as if she owned the place. Then she jumped up on Jane’s bed and made herself at home.
On Jane’s pillow.
Jane felt the last piece of her heart click into place and looked at Charlotte. “So . . . can we add a pet clause on that billion-year lease?”