Chapter 1 – pippa #2
“Nate and I are not that bad,” Cat whines.
“No. You’re worse than bad, because you’re so adorable, it makes me want to hurl. I think I’ll take my chances with the evil stepbrother.”
The elevator doors open to his apartment, and my nose is immediately assaulted with the smell of sex, whiskey, and Ryan’s old gym socks. One elegant high-heeled sandal lies on the floor. Unfortunately, I doubt it belongs to my stepbrother. A red lace bra dangles from a nearby light fixture.
I sigh heavily. “Pray for me, Cat.”
I drag all my stuff into Ryan’s foyer, where I lean my suitcases against the wall and take the whole shithole in. Apparently, Ryan didn’t bother cleaning when he heard I was coming.
The apartment should be nice. The midcentury furniture is clearly expensive, and the wall of windows overlooking the city is especially pretty now that the snow’s settling on everything. With the right owner, this could be a dream home.
Of course, because it’s Ryan, he’s managed to ruin it.
His dirty clothes are strewn everywhere, and the coffee table is covered in crushed energy drink cans.
Probably fuel for his late-night online poker games.
Empty Chinese take-out boxes litter the kitchen counters, probably because the trash can is already overflowing with more of the same.
There’s even a sleek gas fireplace built into the far wall of the living room, all black stone and clean lines, the kind of thing that belongs in a design magazine instead of behind an only somewhat impressive five-foot-tall pyramid of empty beer cans.
“Home sweet home,” I mutter.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Ryan drawls.
I turn to see him sauntering down the hall toward me. He’s obviously coming from the bedroom, judging by navy plaid pajama pants slung low on his hips.
Naturally, he’s fucking shirtless.
I guess if I squint, I can see what the horde of women he hooks up with sees in him.
Ryan’s lean and lanky, built like a rock god with a blow habit.
He’s leaned into the look, with messy dark hair that’s just a little too long, but somehow still looks good.
He’s also wearing a silver necklace to match the silver rings on his fingers.
Which again, should make him look like a douchebag, but doesn’t somehow.
If only being handsome made him less of a toad.
“Oh, good,” I spit. “It’s you. I was afraid a bunch of drunk monkeys came in and ransacked the place. But of course, you did that yourself.”
He raises his brows. “So you admit you’d rather hang out with me than a bunch of drunk monkeys?”
“Believe me. It’s a close contest.”
“Charming. Well, let’s see that pussy,” Ryan drawls.
My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. “Excuse me?”
“The cat.” He points to the carrier. “I have to see the magical creature that was worth losing your apartment and invading my home. It better shit diamonds or something.”
“Don’t listen to him,” I murmur to Waffle, unlatching the door on her carrier. “I love you so much, you’re worth every terrible thing he says.”
Waffle tentatively takes a step out of her carrier. Her back is arched, the hair on her back standing practically on end. Her ears are in airplane mode, turned out to detect any threats.
“Come on, sweetie muffin. You’re okay. It’s safe,” I croon.
Through my peripheral vision, I see Ryan squatting and extending his hand. “Come here, kitty. Do you want pets?”
Waffle hisses and swipes at him with her tiny paw. Ryan stumbles back, even though she didn’t even come close to hitting him. Wimp.
“Good girl, Waffle!” I gesture around us. “Welcome home.”
The black cat hisses at Ryan one more time, then darts quickly in the opposite direction.
Okay, so letting her loose might have been a bad idea.
Waffle’s my first cat, but I’ve done plenty of research since I adopted her.
I know it’ll be hard for her to adjust to a new home, and she might even hide out in some small dark corner for a few days.
It was easy to find her when she hid at my old place, but Ryan’s apartment is like ten times the size. It’ll take me forever to find her now.
“That thing is a demon,” Ryan says with a lifted brow. “It tried to attack me.”
“No, she didn’t! She was just warning you not to touch her. I’m sure you get that a lot from women.”
Ryan rolls his eyes. “One, you know that’s not true. Two, you might want to put the kibosh on the insults, considering I’m letting you and your hellcat stay here for free.”
“You think I want to be here, where my eyes have to be accosted by this?” I gesture at his naked torso. “Trust me, I wouldn’t come within twenty feet of you if it wasn’t my last resort.”
He scowls at me. “You know, I could make your time staying here very unpleasant.”
“Oh, you’ll make it unpleasant even if you’re not trying.”
“Hi,” a small voice chirps. “I should get going.”
Coming out of Ryan’s room, I see a petite woman with thick black hair down to her waist. She’s wearing a clingy minidress, and her hard nipples are clearly visible through it.
Probably because her bra is hanging somewhere in the living room.
“Don’t let my stepsister scare you off, Hannah. She’s only acting like a bitter shrew because she hasn’t gotten laid in months,” Ryan says. Like an asshole, he doesn’t even look at the girl he obviously just slept with. Instead, his eyes are glued to mine, shooting fiery daggers at me.
“Only because there’s a shortage of quality men in the city. I’m sure Hannah understands, since she had to settle for you,” I snap.
Hannah laughs nervously as she tiptoes around us, giving us a wide berth. She’s acting like Ryan and I are a bomb about to go off, and she doesn’t want to be hit by the shrapnel. She grabs her bra off the light fixture and shoves it in her purse.
“Oh, there are plenty of great guys in Toronto, Pips,” Ryan says. “You wouldn’t know, because they turn running the second they glimpse your overly made-up mug. You know guys are really more into the natural look, right?”
I cross my arms. “I do my make-up like this because I like it. Unlike some people, I don’t base my entire personality around wooing the opposite sex.”
His eyes narrow. “No, you base it on being a pain in my goddamn ass.”
“How about you call me later, Ryan?” Hannah calls.
“I will,” he says, right as the elevator doors close behind her.
“You asshole.” I poke him in the chest. “You’re so full of shit. You’re never calling her, because the second you get what you want from a woman, you ghost them. You’re pathetic.”
His brown eyes blaze with wrath. “You don’t know shit about me. In fact, I—”
An electronic chime interrupts him. He pulls his phone out of his pocket. Whatever he sees on the screen makes his expression shift completely. Now, he’s grinning ear to ear.
“Do I even want to know?” I deadpan.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he says mysteriously.
I shudder. It’s probably something horrifying, like a sex robot that will go rogue and kill us all after it sees Ryan naked.
“Lemme show you your room.” Ryan heads in the opposite direction of his bedroom, toward a dim hallway. Of course, he doesn’t offer to help me bring in my suitcases. I grab the handles and wheel everything after him.
Ryan’s standing in front of an open door, smiling down at his phone again. He shoves it in his pocket again when I wheel up. “This is your room. I figured you’d want the room furthest away from mine.”
“Nicest thing you’ve ever done for me,” I mutter.
“Once you’re unpacked, we should probably go over some house rules.”
“You have rules for me? Please. Your apartment is one banana peel away from being legally reclassified as a biohazard. You don’t even follow the basic rules of hygiene.”
Ryan runs his hand through his messy hair, leaving it looking even messier. “Would it kill you to say ‘thank you?’”
“Well, if I started being nice to you, you might get the idea that I thought you had any redeeming traits. I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression. If you ask me, you’re worthless.”
He takes a long step forward and glowers down at me, hatred written all over his sculpted face.
He’s so close, I can smell his aftershave.
“I was going to be nice and let her tell you herself,” he says.
“But since you’re being such an ungrateful rat, I’ll spoil the surprise. Nate proposed, and Cat said yes.”
The news hits me like a punch to the stomach.
It’s not the proposal—I’ve been expecting that since Cat moved in.
But this is a huge moment in my best friend’s life, and she was supposed to tell me herself.
I’ve even got a book buried in my suitcase for her, a vintage 70s romance novel with a cheesy picture of a bride who looks uncannily like Cat.
Instead, I had to hear the news from the slithering snake I have the misfortune of calling my stepbrother.
Victory shines in Ryan’s eyes. He leans away from me, knowing he’s struck a real blow.
“Me and the guys are going to their apartment to celebrate,” he says, putting his hands back in his pockets, the very picture of ease. “Guessing you’re invited, too. Might want to wash up first, though. You smell like a wet dog.”
He strolls down the hallway, mercifully leaving for his side of the apartment. I lean against the wall and take a moment to pull myself together. I hate that Ryan spoiled Cat’s proposal, but I have to admit there’s a small part of me that’s upset for other reasons.
I hate it, but I’m scared that getting married will make Cat grow apart from me. She’ll have a wedding to plan and a whole new life to start with her fiancé. And after years and years of dating, I’m still alone.
I mean, that’s my choice. I’ve spent a few years reigning as the queen of casual dating, and I could have forced one of those guys into a relationship if I wanted to.
There’s a reason I didn’t pursue any of them.
None of them ever made me feel like I was their number one.
Men always seem to be looking for the next best thing, either on the apps or by letting their eyes wander around the bars.
Even when I let dates blossom into short relationships, I never felt like I had someone’s full focus.
There was Mark, the financial writer who said he wouldn’t be comfortable being exclusive until we’d been dating a year.
Then there was Lorenzo, the pilot who called me his “Toronto girlfriend.” Even Carl, the sweet, shy religious studies professor who said I reminded him of his mom, dumped me after a week for some girl he met in Bible Study.
It’s like every guy I attract sees me as their practice girlfriend—good enough to keep around while they wait for the real thing to show up. I have to hope that one day, that’ll change. I’ll find someone who looks at me and sees their everything, the way Nate looks at Cat.
My phone buzzes. Sure enough, it’s from Cat, a picture of her grinning and holding up her hand to show me her ring.
Cat
I wanted to tell you first!!!
Come up to our apartment, we’ve got a macaron tower and a zillion bottles of champagne.
I send back about a hundred heart emojis.
Pippa
I’ll be up soon. Got to go to the pet store to get stuff for Waffle first. I threw out her litterbox during the evacuation. She says congrats too!
Guess I better get moving. Steeling myself, I open the door to my temporary room.
Any hope I had of it being cleaner than the rest of the apartment is dashed.
Somebody’s slept in the bed already, and the navy-blue sheets are tangled on top of it.
God, I hope it was just Luke or Beau, crashing one night when they were too drunk to make it upstairs.
I don’t want to think about Ryan using the bed I’ll be sleeping in for any other purposes.
The decor is comically bad. There’s a dartboard on the wall, surrounded by dozens of tiny holes. On one wall, there’s an honest-to-god dogs playing poker painting. Over the bed, Ryan hung a bunch of posters from the James Bond movie where they play poker.
Oh, well. At least I’ll have Daniel Craig circa 2006 to look at.
I push my sleeves up past my elbows, ready to get to work. There’s no time to give this room the deep scrub it probably deserves, but I know I won’t sleep tonight until I’ve put on a new set of sheets and unpacked all my stuff. I can run down to the pet store while the sheets are in the wash.
I strip the bed, grabbing the comforter for good measure. With my arms full of bedding, I wander out into the apartment. There’s got to be a laundry room somewhere to drop this in.
By the elevator, I notice a big set of shopping bags that definitely weren’t there before. A brand new litter box is sticking out the top of one.
I guess I don’t need to run to the pet store, after all. There’s food, kitty litter, a new water bowl, and some catnip toys shaped like pieces of sushi. Mom must have had these delivered when I told her I was coming, since there’s no way Ryan would ever be that thoughtful.
The sweet gesture puts a pep in my step while I dump the dirty linen in the laundry room.
I rush through hanging up my clothes in my mercifully empty closet, then jump into the shower to rinse off the day.
Ryan only has three-in-one soap, soap, shampoo, and conditioner.
How the hell does he keep his hair looking so good with this shit?
Once I’m squeaky clean, I reach out for my towel. My hand swipes through empty air, and I frown. I specifically remember finding a clean towel, hanging it up and—
He wouldn’t.
The minute I think it, I know that he would. It’s the most Ryan thing in the world to sneak into the bathroom while I’m showering and steal my towel.
It’s going to take a miracle for both of us to make it out of this alive.