Page 30 of Breaking Hollywood

And there’s a Stephen King novel with a pair of reading glasses next to it.

It somehow seems sweet that he wears glasses for reading.

His bathroom is gorgeous. It has one of those freestanding claw tubs and a walk-in shower with one of those massive showerheads.

I salivate at the thought of using both. My soon-to-be ex-apartment only has a shower, and the water pressure sucks.

Also, there’s an office and a home gym.

I manage not to go snooping through drawers and cupboards even though the temptation is great, and when my self-tour is done, I go back into the living area.

“That dildo and lube in your nightstand are for personal use, right?” I tease as I walk over to him.

I know he’s sleeping right away. Not only because I didn’t get a rise out of him, but his mouth his slack, and an unlit cigarette is dangling from it.

He must have been exhausted if he fell asleep before he could even light his cigarette.

He looks so adorable. I’m tempted to snap a picture, but that would be super creepy.

I gently remove the cigarette from his mouth and the lighter from his open palm. I put the cigarette back in the pack, which is on the sofa beside him.

God knows where he got that pack of cigarettes. He probably has boxes stashed all over his apartment. He’d need to with the way he smokes.

I leave them next to him in case he wants a smoke when he wakes up.

I grab a blanket off the other sofa and lay it over him, covering him up.

Then, I head to the kitchen, thinking I’ll cook some food, ready for when he wakes up.

Only I open the fridge, and it’s empty, except for bottled water, beer, and what looks to be an old carton of Chinese food.

I try the freezer and get vodka and ice cream.

I look in the cupboards, and they’re bare, except for chips, cookies, and peanut butter.

Does this guy not eat?

Looks like I need to go to the store.

I grab a bottle of water and head back into the living area.

I put the water next to Gabe, so he’ll have a drink if he wakes up before I get back from the store.

I grab his key from the table and get my bag, and then I head for the elevator.

Harry’s at the security desk when I get down there.

“How’s Mr. Evans doing?” Harry asks me.

“He’s sleeping at the moment,” I tell him. “I need to go to the store, as it’s like Old Mother Hubbard’s cupboard in his kitchen.”

Harry laughs.

“Do you know where the nearest store is?”

“Take a right out of here, and there’s a store on the corner of the block. Couple of minutes’ walk. It’ll have everything you need.”

“Brilliant. Thanks.”