his house. Break it in properly,” he murmurs on my mouth, and I curl my fingers into his shirt.
“Then do it,” I challenge.
“I will…” He kisses me again. “Right after we get the last of these boxes.”
With one more kiss, he pulls away, and I lift my hands in the air, groaning before letting them drop to my sides. “Remind me again why we didn’t hire movers?”
“Because, as newlyweds, we have to experience it all, Gabs! This is our first house together. We’ll feel much more accomplished doing it ourselves.”
“Yeah, gotta tell you, Kyle…I’m not feeling so accomplished at the moment. Bringing the boxes in is one thing, but unpacking them is a whole different ball game.”
He laughs on his way down the stairs.
We get the rest of the boxes from the U-Haul we took turns driving, and for the rest of the day, we unpack what we can until our bodies grow weary.
We decide to eat a delivered dinner on the only available space we have—our sofa—and chat about Kyle going back to work next week and me starting a live online seminar for young art students. I’m getting paid $15 per student for the session, and so far I have twelve students attending. Not too bad for my first online class.
“I’m nervous about it,” I admit, tossing my plastic fork in the brown paper bag. “What if I don’t make any sense? Or they secretly hate my artwork?”
“I highly doubt that, babe. You’re extremely talented. My dad bought that painting from you, remember? He loved it.”