Chapter Seven Roommates
RYLEE
Something about the giant splayed out on the floor seems familiar.
That’s the only reason I’m not currently pummeling him with the lamp in my hands.
Well, that and the fact that he’s not actually hurting Gizmo like I feared - quite the opposite, actually.
Gizmo is gnawing on his leg like he thinks he’ll find catnip in the guy’s pants.
When I heard the apartment door open, I’d been frozen in fear, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling as I imagined a mark wielding psycho with a hatchet charging into my room.
It was only when Gizmo fearlessly leapt from the mattress to the floor and charged out into the dark like a fucking rotweiller did I snap out of my fearful daze.
The idea of someone possibly hurting my furbaby had me grabbing the lamp and running out to confront the intruder and save Gizmo.
Gizmo’s holding his own, though. Fucking champ.
I shake my head and focus in on the next most pressing issue now that I know Gizmo’s okay.
There’s a fucking stranger in my apartment at two in the morning!
“Who are you?” I bark. “What are you doing here?”
“Seriously?” he snaps. It’s dark, and I can’t see his face, but I can make out his size as he squirms on the floor and catches a bit of the moonlight filtering through the window blinds in the living room.
The guy’s a fucking giant! “What are you doing here, and what’s this demon scratching up my leg? ”
“I asked you first!” I raise the lamp, making it look like I’m getting ready to bash him. “Who are you?”
“Fuck! We’ve met like two times already! You forget me every single time.” He raises a hand, as if to block the anticipated blow. “It’s Zander!”
Oh! Shit… yeah, I remember him. Kind of. He was a groomsman at the wedding… Right? He was definitely there, and we had that embarrassing run-in at the airport…
“The fuzzball, please?” he practically begs.
I roll my eyes and set down the lamp so I can pull Gizmo off him.
The cat doesn’t want to let go of his prey, but I manage to disentangle his claws from Zander’s leg.
Clutching Gizmo against my chest, I scratch his head while I glare down at Zander, who takes a moment to clamber to his feet.
He towers over me and I can see more of an outline of his face now that I’m not full-on panicking and my eyes have adjusted to the dark.
He’s frowning, clearly pissed, but fuck him! He scared the shit out of me!
“Are you going to answer my question or do I need to call the cops?” I growl.
“I’m staying here,” he replies in a low, rough voice as he brushes himself off. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m staying here!” I hiss. “Grace said I could while I’m in Denver.”
He furrows his brow in confusion. “Hold on, Carson said I could stay here while my apartment is getting worked on.”
Realization hits me and I groan. “Fuck! They both offered to let us use this place, didn’t they?”
“I guess so,” Zander sighs, looking as irritated as I feel.
“Well… shit!” I stomp my foot in frustration. “What are we supposed to do? It’s too late to call them and figure out what happened.”
“Look, we can just both stay here tonight and talk to them tomorrow.” Zander runs a hand through his hair and his t-shirt rides up a bit, and I can make out that V that ripped guys get below their abs.
Damn… this guy’s kind of a snack.
“Why are you here?” he demands to know. “You don’t live in Denver.”
“I’m here for work.” I don’t give him more than that. “It’s none of your business.”
“Whatever.” He huffs and raises his hands as if in surrender. “Look, neither of us is in the right frame of mind to figure this out tonight. Let’s just… go to sleep and we’ll figure out what exactly happened in the morning.”
I scoff. “Are you fucking serious? I’m not entirely sure you aren’t an intruder!”
He flashes me an annoyed look before digging out his phone. I watch as he taps the screen and scrolls through something before he shows me a picture of him and Carson. They’re both at a bar somewhere, arms draped around the other’s shoulder, cheesing for the camera.
“Is that enough proof that I’m Carson’s friend?”
Scrunching up my nose, I glare at him. “Fine… we’ll both stay tonight. There’s only one bedroom, though, and I’m not sharing!”
“That’s fine. I’ll sleep in the living room on the pull out.”
“Fine!” I turn and storm back down the hall toward the bedroom, Gizmo still clutched in my arms.
“Keep that furball away from me!” he calls after me.
I shoot him the bird before slipping into the room and shutting the door behind me, locking it.
“Asshole,” I grumble as I collapse back into bed. Gizmo wiggles out of my arms and moves to the pillow next to my head, curling up to sleep as if he didn’t just try to take down a giant of a man by himself.
I, on the other hand, can’t relax enough to sleep. Instead, I stare up at the ceiling, fuming.
Fuck Zander. Come morning, I’m going to call Grace and get this sorted and get his giant ass kicked to the curb.
The next morning, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and peel off the collagen face mask I’m wearing.
I take my time as I wipe my face and then apply moisturizer before my primer.
I am meticulous when it comes to caring for my skin - my acne-prone teenage years have given me a bit of a complex.
Must be clean. Must be smooth. No flaws allowed!
Usually, my extensive skin care routine helps me relax and get ready for the day, but I’m still on edge as I think about the giant hottie asshat sleeping on the couch out in the living room.
I barely slept a wink last night after our middle of the night confrontation, and now I’m dreading facing him again. It’s going to be so freaking awkward.
This is not how I imagined starting off my time in Denver.
When I finish my makeup and get dressed, I have no choice but to go out there and face him. I can’t put this off any longer.
Whatever… I’ve been in weirder situations before.
I’m a strong, independent woman and will not let some inconsiderate creep keep me trapped in my bedroom when I have a job to do and asses to kick.
Lifting my chin, I take a deep breath and unlock the door.
I storm out to the living room, ready to lay into this Zander man once more but I stop short when I find the living room empty and the couch tidied up.
He’s already gone.
The fuck?
I stand there for a moment, completely at a loss for what to do. That’s when the anger sparks.
“The nerve of that bastard!” I exclaim. Gizmo comes up behind me and rubs against my leg, seemingly unbothered by my temper. “How dare he leave first?”
Wait… what? Why am I mad about that? This means I don’t have to deal with another awkward encounter this morning.
Still, how could he just leave before we could resolve anything? Asshole!
Frustrated, I grab my phone from my camera bag and dial up Grace’s number. He might not think it’s a priority to find out what happened to land us both in this apartment, but I sure do. I wait for Grace to answer, but when the call goes to her voicemail, I stomp my foot in anger and frustration.
Damn it!
No, no, stop. I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down.
I’m not going to let that arrogant jerk ruin my first day of work.
He doesn’t matter. I’m just going to push him from my mind and head to the stadium to meet the team.
Grace said she’d meet me there, so I’ll just talk to her face-to-face.
Everything will be fine. I’ll get this figured out and will hopefully not have to see Zander again while I’m here.
I make my way back to my room to feed Gizmo when my phone buzzes. Thinking it’s Grace calling me back, I answer without looking.
“Grace?”
“Uh… who’s Grace?”
I pause and blink, recognizing Blaire’s voice.
“Oh, sorry!” I quickly reply, “I thought you were someone else calling me back.”
She chuckles. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Grinning, I shake my head and continue on into the bedroom. “I’m not disappointed. How’s it going?”
Blaire sighs. “Oh, nothing too exciting to report. Juliet’s given me another puff piece to work on… some minor league baseball bullshit. Nothing great, feels like I’m wasting my talent on it. But enough about my shit. How’s your big, exciting story going?”
I wince at the slight twinge of bitterness in her tone. I do feel for her. “I’m, um, just getting ready to head to the rink now.”
“Ughhhh, I’m so jealous. I wish Juliet would give me more stories like that. You get to hang around with hunky hockey players and write a piece everyone’s going to see. I’m stuck writing about a team no one cares about outside of their own city. So lame.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” I try to think of something to say to make her feel better. “How’s that new guy you’ve been talking to? Good I hope?”
She’s silent for a moment, but when she speaks, her tone is much brighter. “It’s going really well, actually. We’ve been on a few dates now and I think it’s going to really be something.”
“That’s great!” I exclaim, genuinely happy for her. “Tell me more about him! I’m dying to get back home so I can meet him.”
“Oh, well, it’s still pretty new,” she quickly sidesteps my request. “I don’t want to go on about him too much already in case it doesn’t work out.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” A little weird, but I guess understandable. “You’ll have to tell me more, though, when things get more serious.”
“Yeah, sure, of course. Hey, I gotta go now. Lots to do. I’ll talk to you later.”
“All right, talk to you later.”
Blaire hangs up and I frown down at my phone. That was… strange. Why’d she get so nervous when I asked about her boyfriend? Are things maybe not going as well as she’d like?
I hope it works out for her. Blaire deserves a nice guy in her life.
I tuck my phone away and grab Gizmo’s cat food out of the bedroom closet. After feeding him, I order an Uber and head out to go to the Night Hawks’ stadium.