Nothing Good Gets Away

Chapter 49

HARRY STYLES

Standing in Rowan's new living room, I watch her close and lock the door as the movers drop off her last box. She's sporting a smile full of childlike excitement with her hands on her cheeks, and despite how weary I am for her official move-in day, I couldn't be happier for her.

"Well, I guess it's official then," she says as we watch Scout trot around his new territory, sniffing wildly at every square inch. "This is home now."

I nod, looking around the place for the second time. "There are worse places to call home, I can guarantee you that much."

"Definitely," she agrees with a scoff. "So you're still good to keep me company while I unpack right? And come to the grocery store with me?"

"'Course, yeah," I cross my arms and glance at the kitchen and living room. "Where do you think we should start?"

She hums for a second as she debates the same thing. "I guess...the bedroom and kitchen? Bedroom first, kitchen before we go to the store?"

I agree and gesture for her to lead the way upstairs, but Scout beats both of us to the second floor once we saw that that's where we were heading. He stands proudly at the top, panting and waiting for us to both give him a pet when we make it up there with him.

"What do you want me to help with?" I ask, watching her push open the wall that leads to the balcony.

"Nothing, I just want your company," she says, "and...your pocket knife?"

I laugh and dig my keys out of my pocket to detach the pocket knife from its silver ring to hand to her. "You're sure you don't want any help?"

"Nope, you just sit and relax," she sighs as she gets down to slice open the first box labeled as her clothing hangers. "At least you have a nice view, right?"

"Yeah," I sit at the edge of her naked mattress to see nothing but the ocean from beyond her balcony. "I can't imagine ever having that bad of a day if this is what I'd be waking up to."

"I'm hoping that's the case," she starts digging all her neatly packed hangers out from three different boxes to lay higher up on the bed and breaks down the cardboard as she goes. "I think I also wanna try meditating in the mornings, or maybe yoga."

"Why, are you stressed?"

"Always a little," she confesses. "I worry about the bakery a lot, and the fact that I have this house to pay for doesn't help. The bakery is doing amazing, better than I projected for its first two years, but you never know. Another bakery could open up on Rodeo, or one of my employees could do something to jeopardize the whole establishment, or people could all of a sudden decide they want to eat healthy instead. Imagine the horror."

I laugh only at that last part, knowing she's being at least a little sarcastic. "Yeah, but I've never felt bad after eating one of your pastries and things. Some of them are rich, yeah, but it doesn't leave you with the same gross feeling of eating packaged sweets from the store, or fast food."

She offers a small smile as she begins hanging her clothes, but lays them out on the bed by color and style first. "I appreciate that, but the thing that sucks is that American food products are just..."

"Shit?"

"Shit," she confirms. "I swear, I lost weight eating nothing but pasta, cheese, and butter when I spent time in France and Italy, but when I came home and ate the same kinds of things, I felt so sick. That's so disappointing, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's a shame," I agree. "I guess that's why you need to expand to Europe sooner rather than later."

"That's the dream," she sighs and starts taking her hangers to her massive closet on the other side of the room. I swear it's about the size of my bedroom in my flat as a whole.