The Trouble Down The Hall

2.

Ryan

Oh, s**t. I was going to kill Trent for this. He had been the one who swore he would handle the housing situation… said, “Trust me, man, I’ll find you a decent place near the site.”

Of course, I should’ve known he would screw it up.

Not that he could’ve possibly known about her. My history with Julia Sinclair wasn’t exactly public record, but still, out of every apartment in this city, he had to land me in hers?

And a roommate situation with a woman? Fantastic.

“I don’t know if this is going to work,” she muttered under her breath, mostly to herself.

Wait what? She was disappointed? She didn’t think it was going to work? As if I was dying to live here, either.

“If it’s not going to work,” I said, keeping my voice even, “just refund me, and I’ll go find a hotel.

I could see it immediately on her face that refunding me wasn’t going to be possible. Thank goodness I had only told Trent to pay for the first month for now to see how good I like staying here.

Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, then pressed together again. She shifted from one foot to the other, towel still hanging over her head, dripping a few strands of water down her shoulder.

I wasn’t sure if closing my eyes would even help not notice every little details about her, the way her face seem so bare, yet, so beautiful.

I tried again not to notice but I failed.

Because, Jesus, the last time I saw Julia Sinclair, she had been seventeen, all freckles and awkward laughter. Now she was… this. Standing here in front of me with her bare legs, soft tank top, water tracing down her collarbone, and the towel. The goddamn towel was messing with my head, because I realized I wanted to see her hair, whether it was still that messy bob she use to have back in the day.

She cleared her throat. “I, um… can’t refund you. The payment’s already processed, and I really need the rent.”

There it was, the reason I wasn’t going to get out of this mess tonight.

I exhaled through my nose. “Of course you do.”

Her eyes narrowed a little, the defensive edge I remembered too well flashing to life. “You don’t have to sound so irritated about it. I didn’t ask to be stuck with you, either.”

That stung more than it should have but I said nothing. I didn't trust myself not to say something hurtful back.

I took a step inside, brushing past her, and the scent of her shampoo hit me; something light, like citrus and vanilla. My pulse jumped, acting like the little traitor that it was.

The place was small but tidy, minimalist, with a hint of chaos. I could see sketches pinned to a corkboard, rolls of fabric leaning against the wall, an open laptop on the coffee table. A designer’s space. I remembered that about her too; how she had wanted to create things with my sister, even back then.

The thought of that pulled at my heartstrings and I wanted to grit my teeth but I didn't.

“Nice place,” I muttered, setting my duffel down near the entryway. “I do expect better though.” I said, even though I didn't mean that.

This was a really nice place and I was impressed, but I wasn't going to tell her that.

She gave a tight smile. “Your opinion of my place doesn’t matter. You're not here to criticize this place, but to live in it. If you still want to leave by the end of the month, then it's fine.” she said.

I hated that she was acting like she could control the outcome of this, and I made a mental note to do the exact opposite of what she wanted at the end of the month.

“Until then, keep your opinion to yourself. And since you’re here, the second bedroom’s down the hall. Bathroom’s shared. Try not to drip sawdust everywhere or whatever it is you construction guys do.”

I huffed out a short laugh. “Still got that mouth, huh?” I pushed up my brows.

“Still got that attitude,” she shot back, already turning away toward her room.

I watched her go, towel swinging behind her like a white flag that didn’t mean surrender.

And that was when it hit me; this was going to be one hell of a long month, but it didn't have to be hell for me. I sure wasn't going to give up, no matter what.

This was fate’s way of compensating me, of giving me the chance to make things hard for her as much as I wanted.

It was a rare form of opportunity and compensation rolled into one, and I was not going to pass up on it for anything. Sighing, I walked to the room she had pointed out earlier as mine to see how it looked like.

The room was a bit smaller than what I had expected but it was spotless, like she had gone to war with every speck of dust before I showed up. The bed was made military-tight, a small desk stood in the corner, and the faint scent of lemon cleaner still lingered in the air.

For a second, I almost smiled. If she had somehow known I was the one walking through that door, she probably wouldn’t have bothered. Hell, she might’ve set a booby trap instead.

I tossed my duffel on the bed, making a mental note to go grab the rest of my luggage out of my car before going to bed, then I tested the mattress with one hand. It was firm.

Thankfully, the house was on a quiet street unlike what I was expecting, quiet enough that I could actually get some work done.

Maybe Trent hadn’t completely screwed me over this time and this whole thing was a blessing in disguise.

Because if fate wanted to throw Julia Sinclair back into my orbit after all these years… I wasn’t planning to waste the opportunity.