“This is Waffle. I wasn’ttechnicallyallowed to have pets, but she doesn’t go outside! I never thought they’d actually enforce it. Turns out, my landlord’s new girlfriend is allergic. When he figured out why she kept sneezing in the laundry room, the asshole evicted us.”
“Oh god, that’s awful!” Cat says. “And right before Christmas? What anasshole.”
“I’m sorry,” Nate says.
I shrug. “It’s fine. I would stay with my parents, but they’re in the middle of selling their place. They told me I have to stay with Ryan until I find a new rental that will let Waffle live there.”
Cat gasps.“You and Ryan will kill each other. You have to stay with us. We have like three guest rooms!”
Nate’s face goes white. Obviously, he’d let me stay with them. Hell, he’d lie down on the ground and let Cat stomp all over him if she asked him to. But he obviously doesn’t want a new roommate. I don’t even blame him.
“Thanks, but I’m good. I have no desire to listen to you two boning all hours of the day and night while I remain single as a Pringle. Not that I don’t loooove being the third wheel on all your romantic dinners already.”
The elevator arrives, and the three of us awkwardly maneuver in with all my stuff.
“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 apartmentshouldbe 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 thingthat 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.
