“I think…” I turn slowly around in the wooden cabin’s bedroom, my case wide open on the bed and a pile of folded underwear in my hand. “I think this may be a bad idea after all.”
Aaron stands in the doorway, looking at me. He’s been unpacking the supplies in the kitchen, though that’s rather a grand word for the tiny cooker and a wooden counter set up in the far corner of the lounge-c*m-living area. He’s probably wondering how he’s going to create those great meals of his with just a few pans and the minimum of condiments.
“Do you need more space? I didn’t bring much, so you can have the extra drawers in the dresser.”
“I’m not talking about the damned storage, Aaron. That’s not what I’m worried about.”
I hear him take a long, slow breath. There’s no excuse for my snapping at him, of c
