I shift in place, nibbling on my lower lip as I decide what I could say to her that won’t piss her off or annoy her further.
“I’m sorry, seriously. I—” Gripping the back of my neck, I tense, unsure of what to add. “It’s clear that we got off on the wrong foot.”
Her brows pinch as she eyes me over the rim of her glass. I clear my throat.
“You know what? I’m gonna head to my room and count to ten. When I come out, I’ll reintroduce myself, and we can start fresh. Sound good?”
She gapes at me, likely as confused as I feel.Come on, Elijah, where the hell did that horrendous idea come from?
I’ve already spoken the words, and I’m nothing if not a man who follows through, so I head back to my room like a puppy who’s been called a bad dog one too many times. The moment the door closes, I clench my eyes shut, counting to ten like I did all those times playing hide-and-seek with Lyla and Ellie. I fight the overwhelming urge to bang my head against the door at how painfully awkward I’m being. This is embarrassing, even bymystandards. I seem to make a habit of humiliating myself in front of beautiful women.
“Ten.” I breathe, opening my eyes and gripping the silver doorknob.
I plaster on a huge smile and head back out, fully anticipating that she left me here to look like a fool. But I’m wrong. She’s standing a few feet away, her eyes glued to mine.
She’s so quiet it hums.
“Hey! I’m Elijah. And you must be my lovely new flatmate, Adhira. It’s so nice to meet you,” I say, keeping my voice as level as possible as I approach her.
Instead of the eyeroll I expect, her lips twitch in a repressed grin that grows despite her fighting it, showing off the top row of her white, mostly straight teeth, save for her crooked right incisor.
“Hi, Elijah. It’s nice to meet you too,” she says, sounding genuine despite the little smirk she’s wearing.
In a split-second decision, I decide to lead myself to an early grave, extending my arms in front of me. “Sorry, I’m a hugger,” I tell her, which earns me a scowl.
Fuck.I’ve done it again.
She swallows. “I’m not big into physical contact. Sorry.”
“Right. Got it. No hugs.” I stare at her, letting my arms fall to my sides as my heart hammers against my chest, anxiety thrumming through my veins, and my cheeks heat as if I’m standing on the sun.
She clears her throat. “I’m not feeling great. I’m gonna tuck in for an early night. I’ll see you later,” she says, disappearing into her room.
When the door shuts behind her, I’m left confused, flustered, and completely alone.
But God, she’s pretty.
CHAPTER
SIX
My breaths areshallow as I lean against my closed door, eyes clenched shut, trying to calm my reckless emotions.
When I’d decided to get my own place away from the prying eyes of my best friends, I most certainly hadn’t intended to fill the room across from mine with a rugby player for the Wyvern Warriors.
How is this my life?
Had I known Rafael’s “friend” was Elijah Elliott, a fellow rugger, I would have never agreed to this arrangement, and I feel like an eejit for not asking.
I thought he’d suggest someone he barely sees, an acquaintance, not someone who could open his big mouth to one of my best friend’s boyfriends and ruin all of my plans to remain discreet with my diagnosis until it’s all over and I can come clean.
As if the universe needed to add insult to injury, I look like a flaming pile of rubbish, and he’s probably been on the cover ofMovement Magazine—or will someday.
Not only do I feel like utter dog shite, but now I have to fall apart in front of an objectively attractive man? If he looked as rubbish as I do, it might make me feel a bit better.
He’s got everything going for him, and one slip could ruin everything for me with very little impact onhim.And he has no idea. Yet here I am, in my robe and bunny slippers, looking like I’ve been run over by a train, having an existential crisis about whether my bad luck is about to get worse.How could that even be possible at this point?
I might not be the most introspective person on the planet, but I’m not dense. Iknowthat I was rude to him as a defence mechanism. It isn’t his fault that he’s more detail-oriented than I’d anticipated any man to be.
