Chapter four
Liv
DidIreallythinkthat I’d be transferring this year to Cedar Lakes? I mean, maybe. My best friend lives here, but I’m not sure I wanted to do it under a cloud of drama.
Then again, would it really be my life if it wasn’t at least slightly unhinged?
Drama seems to follow me like a shadow, and I swear I must be a magnet for chaos, no matter how hard I try to steer clear of it. Or maybe I find it.Jury’s still out, and I will not open that can of worms.
Either way, I know this is my fresh start. Clean slate. Just with the same old pit in my stomach if I think about Rhys too long. No, I’m not doing that, I’m moving on.
A variation of songs about moving on plays like a karaoke bar in my head. Yeah, I can do this.
I tighten my grip on the handle of my suitcase as I stare up at the building in front of me. Jay’s apartment is nicer than I expected for a recent college grad. I don’t know why I thought he might’ve moved into one of the smaller places thatlooked incredibly questionable near campus, but I’m pleasantly surprised. There’s no traffic hum, no faint whiff of weed from someone pregaming on a Tuesday, though I wouldn’t turn that down right now. My nerves are akin to a squirrel on three shots of espresso, twitchy and borderline feral.
You’re going to be fine,I tell myself, shifting my backpack higher on my shoulder and taking a breath that feels a bit shaky. I’m not nervous. I’m not. I just… don’t love asking for help. Especially not from someone like Jay, who, every time I’ve been around him, has been calm, competent, and good at making me feel like I really don’t have my shit together. Which, in my defense, I don’t yet, but I will. I have to.
So here I am, standing outside of my best friend’s fiancé’s best friend’s place… try saying that ten times fast and five shots deep.
“Stop procrastinating, Liv, press the buzzer for apartment three.” I lift my hand, and just as I do, a voice comes from behind me.
“It’s apartment four, actually,” a deep voice grumbles.
I spin, my suitcase flinging around my body, smacking into my shins. “Ow, fuck!” I yelp just as I come face-to-face with my new roomie.
Jay’s standing there with damp hair curling in inky spirals, hoodie zipped halfway, and glasses missing, which makes me internally pout. I liked the glasses.
He smells like a mix of soap and sweat, and somehow it makes him hotter. His breath plumes faster than normal around us, and I’m guessing he’s just been for a run.
Because my mouth always moves before my brain can catch up, I blurt, “Wow. I forgot how fucking hot you are, even without the glasses.” Immediately, my hand slaps over my mouth, my very annoying motormouth that has a mind of its own. “Oh my god. No. That’s not—well, it is what I meant, but I didn’t mean to say itout loud.”
His brows lift, and the corner of his mouth tugs upward like he’s trying really hard not to smile. “Nice to see you too, Liv,” he says. I soften at the fact he’s not calling me out straight away. Instead, he grabs my suitcase at my feet and asks, “Is this everything?”
He lifts the case with ease, those sweaty muscles gleaming in the September sunshine, and for a second, I’m stuck staring at the way his tan skin glistens.
“Olivia?” he practically purrs, or maybe that’s wishful thinking. I snap my eyes from his arms and look into his dark irises.
“Hm?”
“I asked if this was everything, or if you had more suitcases in your car?”
“Oh yeah, that’s it. I have zero furniture since my dorm was furnished, so this is me.” I don’t tell him that I threw away most of my clothes after everything; nothing I ever wore with him came with me, which means I travel light, and I desperately need to go shopping.
“Really?”
I mock gasp. “Despite what you might think of me, I live fairly minimally.”
He snorts as he pushes the door to his building open, holding my case, and those pesky forearms and exposed biceps tense again. “I had no preconceptions.”
“Liar,” I manage, tearing my gaze away again.
“Okay, maybe one or two.”
I don’t ask what they are, even though the question practically burns the tip of my tongue. Truth is, whatever he thinks is probably correct. High maintenance? Check. Loud? Check. Desperate to feel something other than the emptiness that I’ve been left with from my last fuckup of a situationship? I mean, that one’s a little specific, but, check! I’m not totally oblivious; Iknow who I am and how people perceive me, which is why I’m actually surprised Jay said yes in the first place.
We walk up one flight of stairs into his apartment, number four. I need to make sure I repeat that over and over so it sticks in my brain and I don’t scare whoever lives in number three to death when I accidentally try to break in.
The door pushes inward, and I’m immediately hit with the same scent that clings to his skin; that fresh, clean smell emanates from his place, mixed with something warm and homey. “Wow, this is amazing.” I take in the neutral decor and throws scattered on the couch, the big floor-to-ceiling window in the living area. “I really appreciate this, by the way. I promise I’ll be out of your hair by January, as soon as the new dorms are ready.”
