The Trouble Down The Hall

4.

Jules

“Trust me, Mia, I would really love to throw his ass out and give him back his rent,” I said as I unlocked the front door and Mia pushed inside before me. “But I can't afford that.” I finished, pushing my back against the door.

Mia grinned as she looked at me. “Okay, I admit this is my fault. I shouldn't have moved into Alec’s apartment. But I can't resist that man’s charm.” she said, sitting down on the couch.

I walked to sit beside her, sighing. “Yeah, right. It's your fault.” I said with gritted teeth.

“It can’t be that bad, Jules. You keep painting the man like he's some villain.” Mia said and I scoffed.

“Villain?” I repeated, giving her a pointed look. “Mia, the man eats my pancakes, uses my coffee mug like it's his, and walks around the apartment half-naked like it’s a Calvin Klein photoshoot model.”

Mia laughed, tossing her hair back. “Okay, so he’s hot and annoying. That’s not villainy, that’s temptation.”

“Temptation my ass,” I muttered, slumping deeper into the couch. “He’s loud, smug, impossible to ignore, and somehow manages to make existing sound like an ego trip.”

She smirked. “You’ve got it so bad, Jules.”

I shot her a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Oh please, I do not have it bad. I have it unfortunate. There’s a difference.”

Mia grinned wider. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. But if I walk in here next week and find out you two are making pancakes together, metaphorically or otherwise, I’m taking credit.”

I groaned, grabbing a throw pillow and chucking it at her. “Get out of my apartment.”

She ducked, laughing. “I'm not, you're cooking me my late lunch. Besides, you love me!”

“Not right now, I don’t,” I said, but my lips betrayed me with a reluctant smile.

I stood up and walked to the kitchen, already thinking of what to make Mia. “The worst part of it all is that, he's only been here a couple of days and I can't stand his ass.”

Mia laughed from the living room as I rummaged through the fridge, pretending not to smile. “You know,” she called out, “for someone who supposedly can’t stand him, you sure talk about him a lot.”

I rolled my eyes and pulled out some leftover pasta. “That’s because he’s impossible to ignore. He’s everywhere like… mold. Handsome, arrogant, shirtless mold.”

Mia burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Jules. You sound obsessed.”

“Please,” I said, pouring the pasta into a pan and turning on the stove. “The man is allergic to shirts, has an ego the size of Montana, and thinks every woman wants him. I’d rather…”

“Jules…” Mia’s voice softened suddenly, but I was on a roll.

“…lick a subway pole than fall for someone like him. You should see him first thing in the morning, strutting around with that stupid pair of sweatpants low on his waist like he’s auditioning for a cologne ad. And don’t get me started on the smirk…”

“Jules.”

“…or that deep, smug voice that sounds like it was designed by the devil himself to make women lose brain cells…”

“JULES!”

I froze, turning slowly, my spatula midair. Mia’s eyes flicked past me, wide with suppressed laughter.

And then I heard it… his voice. It was low, amused, dangerously close.

“Please,” Ryan drawled, “don’t stop on my account. I was really enjoying that list.”

I spun around completely so fast I nearly dropped the spatula. There he was, leaning against the counter like sin personified; shirtless again, damp hair still mussed from a shower, a lazy grin tugging at his lips.

For a split second, my brain went completely blank, because… damn, and then reality snapped back in, along with my pulse. I shot Mia a glare that clearly said, you could have warned me, and she just bit her lip, trying not to laugh.

I crossed my arms, pretending my face wasn’t on fire. “What are you doing home?” I asked, asking barking at him.

He raised a brow, that grin deepening. “I live here.” he said with a lazy shrug.

“I didn’t see your truck outside,” I said quickly, needing something… anything at all to focus on that wasn’t his abs.

He pushed off the counter, closing the distance between us just enough to make my breath hitch. “It’s in the shop for a routine check,” he said easily, reaching behind me to drop the cup I didn't notice he was holding earlier. “I was in my room getting things in order before I start work tomorrow.”

I stepped back, gripping the counter like it could save me. “Well, congratulations on being responsible,” I muttered, trying to sound unimpressed.

He chuckled, low and rough, and it slid right down my spine. “Thanks, roommate. And hey… next time you want to talk about how irresistible I am, I’d appreciate an audience. I make great coffee, too.”

I glared, but he winked before strolling past me, leaving a trail of soap and smugness in his wake.

He looked at Mia, and waved. “Hi, I'm the new roommate. You must be the old one.” Mia nodded with a smile. “Hey, I'm Mia. Her best friend.” she said.

From where I was standing, I could see his smile slip for a second as Mia introduced herself, but maybe I had imagined that.

“Nice to meet you.” he said with a nod and walked back to his room, not really waiting for Mia’s response.

Mia waited until he disappeared down the hall, then leaned forward, whispering, “Mold, huh?”

“Shut up,” I hissed, but the way my cheeks burned said everything.