Hollywood Roommates

17

Matt rolls his eyes. “Rein it in, big guy.”

“I’m with Luke,” Shane says. “That asshole deserves to be taught a lesson.”

“No one is going to teach anyone a lesson,” Allie says. “I just want my blow dryer back.”

I give her arm a squeeze. “And we’re going to get it for you. Right now.”

Chapter Thirteen

ALLIE

By the time we pull up outside the apartment I used to share with Parker, it’s already gotten dark. I gaze up at the window of my former living room, which is brightly lit, meaning he—or his new girlfriend—must be inside. Or even worse, both of them together. Barf.

“I can’t do this,” I say, speaking around the giant lump that’s formed in my throat.

Shane gives me a stern look from the driver’s seat of his Tesla. “Yes, you can.”

I can’t breathe. I think I might seriously start hyperventilating. “Maybe you can drive around the block a few times.”

He scowls at me. “I’m not doing that.”

Luke rests his large hand on my shoulder from the seat behind me. “We’ll be with you the entire time.”

“We’ve got your back, Allie,” Matt adds.

Okay. I can do this. I can face Parker. I can get my stuff back.

I throw open the car door and leap out before I lose my nerve. The three guys follow me, their doors slamming behind me as I stalk toward the apartment complex. When I get to the gate I nearly turn around, except I know my roommates won’t let me. Having them at my back gives me the courage to enter the gate code, which I still remember. With a faint buzz, it opens.

We head into the courtyard of the apartment complex, which is a small, square area dotted with grass, olive trees, and pink flowers. I brush past it all and climb the stairs. I’m on a mission now, like a princess with her three knights sent to take down a dragon and steal his treasure.

No. My treasure.

When we reach the door to my old apartment, I take a second to draw in a breath and gather my strength. Shane gives me an encouraging nod, Matt offers me a warm smile, and Luke looks like he might tear the door down himself if I don’t.

I ring the doorbell.

The next few moments last a lifetime. I nearly turn around and bolt. I swear I age three years in the pause before when the door finally opens, revealing Parker on the other site.

“Allie,” he says. “What are you doing here?”

He’s wearing jeans and the pale blue shirt I got him for Christmas. My heart clenches with pain, remembering how happy we were that day, but then I fight it off.

“I’m here to get the rest of my stuff.”

His brow furrows. “I didn’t realize you left anything here.”

“Well, I did. Can we come in?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says as he opens the door. “Who are these people?”

“We’re the guys she’s living with now,” Matt says.

“You can see she traded up,” Luke adds.

I brush past Parker, whose mouth is hanging open at the sight of the three tall actors, and step into my old apartment. Since I gave up my own place to move in with him, most of the furniture isn’t mine. Still it brings back memories of all the time we spent in this apartment together. Watching TV on the couch. Making breakfast together on Sundays. Playing card games with friends at the dining table. All things I will never do with him again.

“Wait,” Parker says, glancing between the three men. “You’re Luke Hart. Like from the Death Strikes movies.” His eyes somehow get even bigger as he takes this all in. “And Shane Easton from Talon. Holy crap. I watch that show every week.”

Matt raises his eyebrows, like he’s waiting to be recognized, but then sighs dramatically. “Come on, Allie. Let’s get your crap so we can get out of here.”

Fine with me. I start in the bathroom, grabbing my blow dryer first. Matt follows me inside with a packing box in hand and stands there while I go through every drawer and cabinet, pulling out anything I bought. This time, I won’t be rushed.

The bedroom is next, although I can barely stand to enter it. It reminds me of all the good times we had in there, but also that he probably screws his new girlfriend there in our bed. Oddly, there’s no trace of her in the apartment. No lipstick tubes, no high heels, no pictures of them together. Nothing.

The other guys follow me in to the bedroom and Shane offers another empty box. I pull out some clothes I left behind, along with a pair of tennis shoes I find in the back of the closet, then point at the TV. “That’s mine too.”

“Wait—” Parker starts, but Shane cuts him off with a sharp glare.

“I paid for it. Therefore, it’s coming with me.” Damn, it feels good to stand up to him.

“We’ll get it,” Luke says.

As I check the closet for anything I missed, Luke and Matt unplug the TV and lift it easily, then carry it out of the apartment while Parker gapes at us like he can’t believe this is happening. I search the living room and kitchen—finding my favorite spatula and muffin tin—and then I’m done. “That’s it,” I tell Shane. “Could you give us a moment please?”

“Fine,” he says with a frown. “But I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

As soon as he steps out, Parker asks, “What’s going on, Allie? You live with those guys now?”