How To Evict a Hot Jock in Three Weeks - Anyta Sunday Page 0,1
I was perfectly happy with my own.”
“What a lowlife,” Nico said, grinning.
All he wanted was an intelligent, good-humored, gay liberal who agreed with him about everything.
Maybe Daniel and Nico were right. Maybe Alexander found the worst in people and used it as an excuse to push them away.
Nico patted the back of Alexander’s hand; his eyes were somber, but his smile was gentle. “You might be picky, but you know what else you are?”
“Is this the reminder I’m not all bad?”
“You’re not all bad. You’re also stubborn.”
Alexander set his drink down and gave a pained laugh. “Well, your new guy is moving in for a trial run on Monday.” He grimaced. “I wish I’d interviewed him myself.”
“Logan Stone. He seemed great, and hey, you were buying pictures on the East Coast. You said you trusted my judgement.”
He meant it too, but he was still nervous.
Nico leaned back. “He also came recommended by Dylan over at Camp Halsworth.”
“Roommate number six. I hope this one sticks.”
“That, my friend, is up to you.”
Alexander feared he was right.
“I’m getting an idea.” Nico rubbed his hands eagerly.
“Why don’t I like the glint in your eye?”
“What if we made it a bet?”
“Made what a bet?”
“Stick with your next roommate for longer than the trial period. At least three weeks.”
Alexander rubbed his palms over his thighs. Accepting this bet could help him prove that Daniel was wrong. He wasn’t always picky. He could let things go. He could be kind. “I’ll do it.”
“What are you willing to stake on that claim?”
Something important. Something that would encourage Alexander to stick to the bet and work on his unlikeable qualities. “My home, my baby.”
Nico gasped. “Are you serious?”
“One hundred percent. I will not evict Logan. Hold me to it Nico, no matter how much I waver or complain or beg.”
Nico met his eyes. “I sincerely hope you don’t fail, but, sure, I don’t mind roommates. You can have my crappy home.”
Alexander nodded. “Good. I’m claustrophobic. Your apartment is a one-room box out of town. Plenty of incentive.”
“Are you sure, Alexander?”
“You bet I am, and before you start thinking, ‘oh, worst comes to worst, he’ll simply avoid spending time with his roommate,’ well. Here are a few other rules.” His stomach lurched, but he needed to do this. Alexander ticked them off his fingers. “I can’t evade him. For at least three weeks, I must never say no to any suggestion he makes. He wants pizza, I say yes. He wants me to spend a day with him at the beach, I say yes. He wants—”
“You’ll say yes,” Nico said, an admiring sheen illuminating his eye. “You can do this.”
Alexander stretched out his hand. “I hope so.”
Chapter Two
LOGAN
* * *
Tucked into a quiet corner of Inglewood twenty minutes from Minneapolis, Paragon Theater was formerly Inglewood’s community hall, before they built a larger venue. Logan had helped his brother repurpose it into a rugged, charming theater over the last year.
Helping had been how he’d met Jane.
Nerves kicking a fuss in his stomach, he headed into the costume room.
Bent over a table, Jane’s dainty-nosed profile greeted Logan. A good-looking woman with watery blue eyes, hair the color of ripe chestnuts, and an upturned nose.
“Let’s make this quick,” Jane said without looking up from her laptop. “Your things are in the box by the mirror. Check if you’re missing anything.”
Logan frowned and sifted through the box. He honestly didn’t care about this stuff.
He studied Jane’s reflection in the mirror. “Was it because of that . . . incident?”
Jane reclined in her chair. “You’re not the one, Logan.”
“And Peter’s the one?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Jane finally glanced at him. “Sugar-coated answer?”
“Straight.”
“He’s better on stage and in bed. He didn’t flake out of college, he knows about art. He’s cultured.”
Logan fought the heat creeping up his neck. He’d asked, dammit.
Jane continued, speaking factually, “You have money and looks but the personality of a clown. You jump from job to job, or better said, failed audition to failed audition. Even your mom apologized on your behalf that I took you as my plus one to the Indie Stage Awards.”
Logan rubbed his nape. “Right.”
“She’s afraid to say it to your face, but you wanted the truth.”
Was it too late to change his mind?
“Want my suggestion? Go out there, improve yourself. Show the next woman who gives you a chance that you’re worthy.”
“Worthy.”
“Exactly.”
Swallowing hard, Logan cradled the box and quietly shut Jane’s door. Leaning against it, he spent two minutes reabsorbing his confidence.
Jesus, Jane could be frank.
He lifted his chin and made