“Okay,” was all I said. I loved to bake; it was part of what kept me sane during the hard days with Bryce. I’d almost gone to culinary school, but decided nursing was a recession-proof profession.
He unlocked the door and swung it wide open, before stepping inside.
And now I could see why it was two hundred dollars. It was tiny. Like New York City closet tiny. With a twin bed and a desk. Under the desk was a small dorm refrigerator with a microwave on top. This was like a motel room, but it was better than the hostel, and right on my budget. I wasn’t taking out student loans for my nursing school tuition; that, and the supplies, uniform, and books, would have to be cash. Ethan walked across the space and opened the door to a tiny bathroom with stand-up shower that had mold in the grout and paint peeling off the ceiling. I was feeling less and less like this was a handout and more confident that the price of two hundred was fair.
A private room with my own bathroom and a lock on the door. A/C included. I’d be stupid to say no.
“My shop hours are Monday through Friday, eight to six, so you’ll hear me and my mechanics working with loud power tools. On Sunday and Wednesday nights we have Kings Club meetings and the boys can get a bit rowdy, but I’ll make sure they don’t bother you or come near your apartment.”
My apartment. Fucker knew I was going to take it.
I nodded. “I’d like to apply for it, then. My credit’s good but I don’t have much in the way of a security deposit. I could give you a hundred now for the first two weeks and the next hundred after I work tonight.” I held my chin high. The one good thing being with Bryce had done was give me a 758 credit score. He’d put me as a co-signer on all our credit cards and paid them off monthly, so I looked like an upstanding citizen on paper.
Ethan ran his hand through his hair. “Hailey, I’m not gonna check your credit. A hundred now is fine. Pay me the rest when you get it.” He handed me a ring with two keys.
Part of me wanted to retort and tell him to treat me like any other applicant, but I took them and nodded. “Thank you.”
I handed him my crisp hundred-dollar bill from last night and he shoved it in his pocket. “One key works the shop front door and the other is for the apartment.”
We stood there in awkward silence, me trying not to stare at his fucking eight-pack and him thinking God-knows-what about me.
“Alright, well, I’ll let you settle in.” He ran his fingers through his hair again, and I wondered if it was a nervous gesture.
“Are there sheets for the bed or…?” I was back down to forty-nine dollars; I couldn’t afford a new bed set.
He nodded. “I’ll set them by the door in a bit. I need to shower.”
My traitorous mind went to him showering and I put my backpack down. “Yeah, whenever, I’m going to answer some emails,” I lied.
With a nod, he left and shut the door behind him.
I sat down on the springy twin mattress and sighed. This was a smart decision. A good choice. But I had a feeling I would regret it. Living with a guy, or across the hall from one, was a messy situation. A hot guy, a guy from my past. I started to unpack my bag.
Six tampons.
Nalgene water bottle.
Wallet.
Havaianas flip flops, the ones I’d been wearing when I left.
Five pair white cotton Wal-Mart undies.
1 pair sleep shorts.
Three t-shirts.
1 pair jean shorts.
1 photo album.
My laptop and charging cord.
That was my life.No gum, no pen, not even a pair of earrings or make-up. No flat iron. Nothing.
I plugged my laptop into the desk and played some music. Ethan texted me the Wi-Fi password and I officially saved his name into my phone.Ethan Landlord.
That’s what he was.My landlord. That’s it.
