Roommate? He hadn’t said anything about a roommate. It was bad enough I had to navigate learning how to live with one virtual stranger. Now I had to worry about two? The hallway ambush didn’t make sense. If we were supposed to live together, why the hostility?
“Oh, I see. So you’re the current mooch, worried I’m coming in on your turf, yeah? Don’t you worry, I have no plans to stay long,” I said with a little bite to my tone while fumbling to shake his hand. I could only manage one confident gesture at a time, and my shaking fingers betrayed the fierceness of my words with their clumsiness.
He lingered in the touch for a moment, and it wasn’t until a good few exhales had escaped my trembling lips that I realized he was still holding me, pressing his index finger into my wrist, as if he was testing my erratic pulse. He looked pissed as hell.
“Were you waiting for me?” I asked while snapping my hand back. I rubbed where our skin touched, not sure if I should run or punch him in the dick.
“Maybe. Come inside so we can talk,” the dangerous looking man demanded while glancing down. “Is the rest of your stuff in your car?”
I tucked a blonde strand of hair behind my ear before responding. “This is it,” I barked. At my words, my feet started bouncing in embarrassment.
It wasn’t my fault I didn’t have anything. Money was tight. I was all about surviving. There was nothing left in that trailer home I wanted anyway. It all reminded me of her. The only reason I saved her photo was for Lance.
“Fine. Come in.” He looked me up and down quizzically, then walked past me to unlock the door. I got a whiff of his scent and breathed it in.
He smelled like soap, leather, and expensive single malt scotch. I knew that drink. One of Mama’s boyfriends, Colby, always came over smelling like it. He had a wife and kids and a big house in the suburbs. Colby liked to come over when his life was feeling stagnant. He used to tell my mama that the cure for boredom was getting his dick wet. I learned long ago that you could tell a lot about a man by the way he smelled. And Decker smelled like trouble.
“I figured you’d be here yesterday. I was worried I’d miss you before Lance got here. I want to talk,” he said while setting his keys on a table by the door and walking inside.
“Is this the part where you try and scare me away? Warn me that if I fuck with your boyfriend, you’ll kick my ass?” I asked, forcing my tone to sound polite, despite the anger swirling in my gut. I didn’t want to bullshit my way through a conversation about why I was here.
That was another reason I didn’t want to come. I knew Lance would have questions. He’d want to know about the woman that gave him away. I just wasn’t sure he could handle the truth. People liked to think highly of those that died. It’s why the preacher called my mother a saint at our quaint burial service. And it seemed like Decker had already made up his mind about me. He lumped me in with my deadbeat mother, and it pissed me off.
“You’re perceptive,” Decker replied, interrupting my thoughts.
“I know an asshole when I see one,” I replied while staring at his back. He set down his leather messenger bag on the coffee table in their living room as I stepped through the threshold. Decker spun around to face me again, and the moment his dark eyes met mine, I started looking around the apartment to avoid his gaze. His eyes were too cruel, too inquisitive. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
The loft was nice. Clean. Had modern furniture and an open concept living area. I loved the dark wood floors and abstract art on the walls. It seemed like every damn part of this apartment was selected by someone with an eye for design.
“This place is really nice.” I swallowed before taking another step forward. If I was going to live with this guy, I should probably rein in my temperamental tongue. I didn’t know these people, didn’t know if Lance would kick me out for insulting his best friend. I took another step. It seemed like every shuffle of my feet brought me closer