"You really think there's something out there attacking pets?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual as we climbed the stairs.
"I know there is." His response was firm, certain. "Mrs. Chen in 1A lost her tabby last week. Found what was left by the dumpsters."
Jesus. That was not what I needed to hear right before trying to sleep.
Cal led me down the hall to 3F, which was on the opposite end from my apartment. He unlocked the door with a practiced motion. There was no jiggle-and-curse required for him. Then he stepped aside to let me in first.
I hesitated at the threshold. Was I really going to sleep in a handsome stranger's apartment because my roommate was getting some and I was too stubborn to wear earplugs?
Yes. Yes I was.
The apartment had the same layout as mine, but that's where the similarities ended. While my place was cluttered with Tara's fashion magazines and my sad collection of coffee-stained work shirts, Cal's apartment was almost unnervingly neat. Thefurniture was minimal but solid. There was a leather couch, a heavy wooden coffee table that looked handmade, and shelves lined with books and what appeared to be carved wooden figures.
"Nice place," I said, suddenly self-conscious about the disaster zone I called home.
Cal shrugged, closing and locking the door behind us. I noticed he used both the deadbolt and a sliding chain. "It's quiet and the walls are thick. That's what matters."
The kitchen was spotless, not a dirty dish in sight. On the counter sat a bowl of fruit that actually looked fresh, not the aspirational kind I bought and watched rot.
"You want something to drink? Water? Tea?" He moved with surprising grace for someone so large, opening a cabinet to reveal an impressive collection of tea boxes.
"Water's fine," I replied, still taking in the apartment. There were no personal photos anywhere, no mess, no sign that the place was really lived in. If it weren't for the woodworking tools carefully arranged on a side table and the well-worn paperbacks, I might have thought he'd just moved in yesterday.
He handed me a glass of water, our fingers brushing. His skin was unnaturally warm.
"You're burning up," I said without thinking, then immediately regretted it. "Sorry, not my business."
"I run hot," he replied simply, glancing out the window once more where the full moon hung in the sky. "Always have."
An awkward silence fell between us. I sipped my water, wondering what the hell I was doing here. This guy was a stranger, regardless of how safe he made me feel for some inexplicable reason.
"The couch pulls out," Cal said, setting his own glass down. "I'll get you some sheets."
He disappeared down the hallway, and I took the opportunity to look at the wooden figures more closely. They were animals, mostly wolves, carved with incredible detail. I picked one up, a sleek wolf with its head thrown back, caught mid-howl. The craftsmanship was remarkable.
"Those are just a hobby," Cal said, returning with a stack of neatly folded sheets and a pillow that looked better than the one on my actual bed.
I set the wolf down carefully. "They're beautiful. You made these?"
He nodded, setting the bedding on the couch. "Helps me focus. Keeps my hands busy."
"You're really talented," I said, meaning it. "You could sell these."
Something flickered across his face… discomfort, maybe? "I don't like drawing attention."
That tracked with the sparse apartment and the fact I'd never seen him around before. Cal seemed like the type of guy who moved through the world trying not to be noticed, which seemed impossible given how he looked.
I helped him pull out the sofa bed, which was in way better condition than the one I'd slept on in my parents' basement during holiday visits. He moved with practiced efficiency, tucking in corners and fluffing the pillow like he'd done this before.
"You make a habit of rescuing strays?" I asked, only half-joking.
Cal's expression softened slightly. "Only ones as cute as you." He froze for a moment, seemingly surprised by his own words. “Forget I said that. I didn’t mean it.”
I should have been worried, but I was too busy listening to the sound of my heart skip a beat. He thought I was cute? How could that be possible? Men who looked like Cal didn’t noticeguys like me. Had that been therealreason he invited me up to his apartment? What was he planning?
"Bathroom's down the hall if you need it," he said, stepping back from the now-made bed. "I'll be in my room. Door stays closed at night."
That was an odd thing to specify, but I just nodded, deciding to play it cool. "Thanks for this. Seriously."
