Chapter 14
fourteen
“You don’t know what you’re doing, do you, Cait?” Evan emphasizes my name, my real name, one of the few times he hasn’t called me Cat. “If you want to play games, fine, but I’m not giving in, no matter what you do. I won’t sleep with you. Like I said, you can’t handle one night with me.”
I grit my teeth as his words transform my horniness into outright anger. When he sidesteps me and marches away, I’m ready to explode.
“Who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can’t handle?” I turn to him.
He doesn’t respond, just keeps moving, out the front door and into the hallway.
It’s then I notice that Mr. Gusterson’s standing in the hallway, watching us. He’s wearing a fuzzy brown bathrobe. He was the man playing the VR game with Mrs. Venti. And now he’s watching me with the keen rheumy gaze of a seventy-year-old. I gasp and cover my breasts.
Evan nods to him as he passes and jogs down the stairs, running away.
“Idiots,” Mr. Gusterson mumbles. Shaking his head, he shuffles into his apartment and slams his door behind him.
I rush to shut my own door. With my palms pressed against it, I pound my forehead into the wood. He’s right. I’m an idiot. My plan backfired again. You deserve this.
Still, I have a more serious problem. I have no functioning hot water in my shower. So now I’m working on a plan to bathe at Aggie’s for the foreseeable future.
Something glides under the door and I glance down, finding an envelope near my feet. Frowning, I squat to retrieve it. When I listen closely, footsteps tramp down the stairs.
I stand and rip open the envelope. It’s heavy, so I turn it over and dump out the contents. A key slides into my open palm. Next, I remove a handwritten note.
I’m staying with a friend tonight. You can use my apartment. Everything will be fixed while you’re at work tomorrow.
—E
Unbelievable. I shake my head. I can’t figure this man out. One minute he’s flirty, thoughtful, willing to do anything to help by offering me his shower, making me dinner, and saving me from a broken plate. And in the next, he’s an ice cold shower. He’s always interested until he’s not.
The whispers rush back in with another option. Maybe it’s you. Maybe you’re not appealing enough.
They warned me I shouldn’t travel this road. They gave me every reason to stay away from him, but I can’t. My will to win him over is stronger than the whispers, and that’s why I’m taking him up on his offer. There’s no better way to know my opponent than to snoop in his apartment.