“Warren, I take it?”
A deep, brief laugh escapes him. “Chloe?”
I pucker my lips and give him a single nod. “Yup.” We both look out to his car.
“I guess I should go move that, then.” He isn’t taking this seriously, and it fuels my annoyance. I open the front door for him and make a show of waving him through.
He ducks out of the lobby, and I push my forehead into the heel of my hand. Almost thirty minutes late, parked in a non-parking zone, villain’s cheekbones… this is a disaster.
He returns, wearing a bashful expression that is entirely put on for my benefit and dripping with arrogance. “Can we start over? Nice to meet you, Chloe.” He extends a hand to me.
“Why were you late?” I open the inner door with my key fob and let him step in front. He lowers his unshaken hand.
“Traffic?” He doesn’t even attempt to mask the lie. He’s amused for some reason.
I narrow my eyes at him, wearing my bestscrew youexpression that I’ve been perfecting since puberty.
“I slept late. It’s my day off.” He raises both hands.
“Great…” We step into the elevator.
“Why does that make you so mad?” he asks, eyes narrowed.
“I think people should be on time? Like the normal societal expectation?”
“Noted.” He blows out his mouth as if to saygeez, and it only adds to the rage threatening to spill out of my mouth.
I’m not normally an angry person. I avoid conflict. I don’t usually let people get under my skin. Or, more accurately, I don’t usually let them know they have. I take a few deep breaths.Start over.
He follows me off the elevator and towards my apartment door. I fiddle with my keys, trying the first three on my lanyard before I notice him watching.
“Did you just move in?” He places his forearm on the wall next to my door to support his leaning frame.
“No.” I don’t look up as I insert a fourth key.
“Wondering, since you seem to have keys to the whole city there—but none of them are marked for this door.” His voice is heavy with sarcasm, his smirk audible.
The fifth key turns the lock, and I widen my eyes at him as I push the door open. My shoes land on the mat next to the door, but he leaves his on—another strike.
The entry of my apartment has a door on the right, which leads to a bathroom, and another on the left, leading to the first of the unoccupied bedrooms. The hallway ends as it bends into the kitchen on the right before opening up into the living area. The space has brick walls and high ceilings that meet where I sleep in the loft above.
“I had two roommates for university. They both moved out in the spring, but I kept the lease. What I pay here is what a one-bedroom seems to be going for these days.” I flick the lights on in the empty bedrooms, and he glances around, nodding but silent.
We enter the main living area, and he looks around at my furniture. Most of it is thrifted or from a big-box store, and it definitely has a feminine vibe. There’s a pink couch, fluffy off-white carpet, and a purple velvet armchair in the living room. He looks towards it as if he’s hearing one long joke.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing, just… cutesy.” He shrugs.
My head involuntarily retracts at his use of cutesy when, clearly, he meantgirlyin a derogatory way. I count another strike against him.
“My room is up there.” I point towards the spiral staircase that leads to the loft, open to the downstairs but not in view. “You wouldn’t fit—slanted ceilings.” I blurt out that last part as I look up at him. He tightens his lips and looks away, silently taking in the apartment.
I wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t, and the silence grows uncomfortable. I tap my foot and cross my arms in front of my chest. I might not like this guy right now, but I’m going to have to learn to.
“I figured the front bedroom would be a better fit for you, and the other one for…” I don’t know if Rachel told me his brother’s name.
“Luke,” he adds but doesn’t turn to face me as he walks towards the collection of art prints hanging on the wall of the dining area opposite the kitchen.
