The Mercenary Next Door (Rogues and Rescuers #2) - Lucy Leroux Page 0,32

dance until we drop. And forget all those drab dark colors. This color makes your skin pop. Add a little lipstick and eyeliner, and no man will be able to resist you.”

Laila snorted at the absurdity. Rosamie sat next to her, then threw an arm around her shoulders. “Okay, I’m going to tell you the news so you can appreciate it—I heard from the housing office. I got a room in Wardley!”

“What?” There wasn’t a lot of graduate housing available at their school. Wardley was the sole dormitory reserved for their use, which was why it was notoriously difficult to get into. But if a student did get in, it was worth it. The university subsidized the housing, so the room was around a quarter of the amount to rent the average L.A. apartment. That and it was close to campus, just a block over. And it was two blocks from Gardullo’s Grocery.

Most of the rooms in Wardley were earmarked for students that came from abroad. Only a few were available to California residents. Students had to win a lottery to get a room. Unfortunately, the odds of winning the real lottery were slightly better.

Laila hadn’t realized Rosamie had even bothered to put her name down—the competition was that intense. Also, her friend saved money by living at home.

“How did that happen?” It was mid-quarter.

Her friend beamed. “Well, it seems a certain dynamic duo got caught sleeping with their advisor and had to leave the Biochem program after an attempt to bribe her with the pictures they secretly took.” Rosamie waved her hands about. “It was a whole thing.”

Wow. Laila had been in her own world, so she hadn’t heard. She listened open-mouthed as Rosamie detailed the scandal. When she was done, Laila gave herself a little shake. “And is your mother okay with you moving out?”

Rosamie laughed. “She knows she can’t stop me. Nor does she blame me, not with the way the twins have been acting lately. We’re slowly being suffocated by testosterone, zit cream, and teen angst. I think she secretly wishes she could move out with me. But she can’t because you are.”

Laila started to get dizzy. “Huh?”

Rosamie bounced on the bed again. “I put your name down in the lottery along with mine. We got a double!”

“Oh my God.” Laila felt staggered. “But what about my apartment?”

Rosamie shrugged. “I know you have a few more months on the lease, but the dorm is way cheaper. In the end, you’ll save money by letting it lapse. You might even get someone to take over the lease. This area is always in demand.” Rosamie’s expression sobered. “You know it’s for the best. There’s no way you’re going to get over the scum-bucket formerly known as Mr. Marvelous if you are still living here.”

“I would,” Laila said. But it felt weak, even to her ears.

“Can I ask you something?” Rosamie pressed her lips together before clicking her tongue. “Are you still watering his plants?”

Wincing, Laila didn’t answer.

Rosamie pointed at the door. “It just goes to show you how unbelievably dense some men are. Mr. Marvelous must think he’s God’s gift to women. I can’t believe he still trusted you with the key after the shit he pulled. We should go over there and cut out the crotch in whatever pants he left behind.”

An unwilling laugh escaped Laila. Rosamie patted her leg. “We can move into Wardley as early as next week. You never have to see Mason again.”

Laila took a deep breath. How could one phrase fill her with relief, yet hurt like hell at the same time?

“I’ll have to find someone else in the building to water his plants,” she said eventually.

Mr. Tran wasn’t reliable, but there was a nice-enough retired lady on the floor below them. Mrs. Turnbull would do it, especially once she learned how much Mason compensated for the simple task. Plus, Mrs. Turnbull’s son was a cop. She wouldn’t rob Mason. Mr. Tran, on the other hand, would drink everything in the liquor cabinet if she chose him.

There are always empty boxes by the recycling bin. Very few of her neighbors broke down their delivery boxes. Most of what she owned could fit in her extra-large suitcase and a few of those cartons—half a dozen at most.

Laila shook out her hair. “We can go to the club, but I’m not hooking up with anyone. I’m going to need to be up early tomorrow to start packing.”

“That’s the spirit!” Rosamie beamed. “Now, go jump