CHAPTER THREE
The couch bounces once as my ass hits it, the front door closing behind me. There’s a faint odor of smoke on this side of the hallway, but I choose not to question it. Upstairs roommate must have his hotplate on again.
“Rough day?” Drew asks muting the baseball game on the TV.
I blow air out my pinched lips, sounding like a distressed motorboat. “I’m having the worst Monday.”
Rather than sympathize with me, Drew laughs. “That’s what you said last Monday.”
“Okay fine. It’s the worst Monday since last Monday.” I steal the remote from his outstretched hand and start flicking through channels. I cannot handle another baseball game, but there is always a mind-numbing show on Bravo. I stop flipping channels on a Kardashian commercial.
“I am not watching any more of your Kardashian shit.” Drew tries to wrestle the remote back from me.
I hit him with it in the arm. “It’s a commercial, dumbass.”
With school officially out for the summer the center’s hours change, adding more in the morning and evenings so we are available when the youth need a place. The days are long, but I try to make it home for dinner. We do everything we can to keep the kids busy. Busy kids don’t have time to get themselves in trouble. At least that’s the motto I work on.
I pick up the channel flipping again, stopping as I circle around and we’re back to the baseball game. “What are your plans for the evening?” Here’s hoping he planned to cook me an awesome dinner with chocolate for dessert.
“You’re looking at them.” His arms stretch out showcasing the TV and his lazy ass on the couch.
“Have I ever mentioned how exciting it is to live with you? Who needs the doctor and his TARDIS? I have Drew and his Big Blue Couch.”
The rant I’m nowhere near ready to end comes to a screeching halt with a pounding on our door.
Drew’s finger flies to his nose, the tip touching the end. “Not it!”
“I told you we stopped playing that game ten years ago,” I say, but I stand up ready to open the door.
Drew laughs turning his attention back to the TV, unconcerned if it’s someone here to stab me. “If we stopped playing then why am I always winning?”
Men.
I don’t take the time to check the peephole. It will serve Drew right if I get stabbed.
Turns out I’m right. On the other side of the door stands a truly dangerous man. This guy is hazardous, but in an entirely different way. Now I wish it was a kidnapper. There’s a big white pizza box in his arms. He hurries, pushing it forward into the space created by the open door or else I’d close it on him.
Worst Monday ever.
“What are you doing here?”
Grant grins. “I brought pizza.”
“Why?”
His smile fades, and his eyes drop to the pizza box held out in front of him. “To eat.”
“We don’t do that,” I spit out quickly. My words are ridiculous, but they have their intended effect. Grant takes a step back in his puzzled state and I try to close the door on him.
My forward momentum is halted. “Clare, we don’t talk to our guests that way. Especially those who come bearing gifts.” Drew reaches out and snatches the pizza box from Grant without taking two seconds to ask what he’s doing here.
He walks it to the dining room table not bothering to open the top. “What kind is it?” Drew asks opening cupboards in the kitchen.
I follow him stopping at the end of the table. “It doesn’t matter what kind.”
“Double meat,” Grant says right behind me.
Who let him in the house?
