Breakaway

Chapter 2: I have to admit, I was expecting a guy.

Ryan

The glass and steel exterior of a stunning, modern low-rise apartment building glinted before me in the dwindling evening sunlight. It was just before seven and I was parked on the street, certain that I had to be mistaken.

This can't be right, can it?Doing a double-take, I checked the address again: 2550 Auburn Lane. This was the building that Isabelle and I drove by on our way to yoga. We had always fantasized about living in it, but the units for rent were owned privately and were always way beyond our price range. Based on the building, the place itself was sure to be livable. Well, more than livable, given that this was a luxury apartment complex.

Only one question mark remained: the roommate. After living in the dorms for two years, I was no stranger to bad roommates; Isabelle and I met when we were grouped in a 4-girl dorm room freshman year, which included another girl who stole my clothes, wore them in front of me, and then lied about it to my face. It was a rough situation, and the school had refused to do anything about it.

At least in this scenario, I was the one in control over who I lived with, rather than the faceless, bureaucratic campus housing authority.

I coasted down the entry ramp and circled the underground parking structure, straining to see in the dim light as I tried to locate a vacant spot. Most of the stalls were numbered to correspond with their respective condo units and the ones that weren't numbered were already occupied. I hated these parking structures; they always made me feel claustrophobic. The sooner I could park and get upstairs, the better.

As I rounded the corner, a lone empty stall appeared up ahead on the right. I had just turned my signal light on when a shiny white new-model truck approached from the other direction, quickly swooping in and taking the spot before I could even blink. I beeped my horn at the driver, who just stuck his hand out and waved me off. Asshole.

He parked and got out of the truck, jogging away. I had to admit, he was a hot asshole. Athletic build, with broad shoulders and a tall frame; I was a sucker for tall guys. Too bad this one just screwed me over for that parking spot, making me late for my meeting. I hoped that my lateness wouldn't reflect poorly on me to the potential roommate. If this fell through, I was out of options.

*

Ethan

The condo doorbell chimed a few minutes past seven, letting me know the guy who texted about the ad had arrived. I buzzed him up, noting that punctuality wasn't his strong suit. One strike against him already.

I'd received a few inquiries about my spare room for rent but so far, I hadn't found anyone I was willing to live with. I was in no hurry. Technically, I didn't need anyone to help me carry the costs of the mortgage, so I could afford to be picky. And I needed to be picky, after what happened with my last roommate.

Moments later, someone rapped on the door. I walked to the door, took a deep breath, and prayed. Please don't be a weird, balding middle-aged dude in a Garfield t-shirt like last time. While he may have technically been taking college courses, he wasn't what I had in mind when I specified 'college student' in the ad.

On the other side of the door, I found just the opposite; there was a cute, curvy brunette standing before me, wearing ripped jeans and a tight white t-shirt. The same brunette whose spot I just poached in the basement parkade. What the hell?

Momentarily taken aback, I scrambled for something to say. "You?"

"You!" She narrowed her doe-like brown eyes.

"Are you here because I stole your parking spot?" I fought back the sheepish grin emerging across my face.

"No, I'm here about the roommate ad." She looked at me like I was losing my mind. "But why did you do that, anyway? Don't you have your own reserved spot?"

Well, now I felt like a d**k.

I shrugged. I didn't really have an excuse. I was running late, and in a hurry. It was closer to the elevator than my unit's assigned stall.

"Sorry about that. I thought I would be late for this meeting. You're Ryan?" If so, she was the hottest 'Ryan' I'd ever met.

She nodded. "Yep. Ryan Winters."

"You're here... about the room for rent ad?" I asked, still unsure of what was going on.

She nodded again, giving me a funny look. "Yep."

Was Axel playing some weird practical joke on me? It wouldn't be the first time, and something like this was his style. Just like the time he replaced my white hockey helmet with a bubble gum pink helmet before one of the biggest games of the year. He thought it was funny; the other team thought it was hilarious.

I clarified, "You want to live... here?"

"What is this, twenty questions?" She laughed, adding impatiently, "Are you going to let me in, or what?"

I wasn't sure what was going on, but I didn't want to be inhospitable, so I decided to roll with it and gave her a tour. We started with the spare bedroom and bathroom upstairs, ending on the main level with the kitchen, living room, and office.

"Ooh, I love the kitchen." She gave it the once-over with an approving nod. "Really industrial vibe."

"Thanks." I was proud of that because I picked out the concrete countertops and glossy modern cabinets when I bought the unit pre-construction. I couldn't decorate worth a damn, but I thought I had done a good job with the bones of the place.

"It's pretty big, huh?" She was clearly referring to the condo, but I was sorely tempted to make a crude joke about size. I refrained, silently congratulating myself for exercising such restraint. I didn't want to be a creep off the bat, even if I did think my joke was pretty clever.

"It's a good size. About 1100 square feet." We walked back into the great room, lingering as neither of us quite knew what to do next. "Hey, do you want something to drink? We can chat for a minute."

She shrugged. "Sure, sounds good."

I sat down beside her on the charcoal sectional in my living room, opening two cans of lime sparkling water and handing her one.

She extended a soft, well-manicured hand to accept it. "Sparkling water, eh? I would have pegged you for a beer guy."

"Sometimes. But I keep a strict diet overall for my training," I explained. She nodded vaguely, like she didn't know what I was referring to but didn't want to admit it.

"So... Ryan. I have to admit, I was expecting a guy. What's the story behind your name?"

"Technically, it isconsidered unisex." She gave me a wry smile. "My mom is a big feminist. She thought it would give me a leg up when submitting resumes in the workforce. Something about studies showing that women were less likely to receive job interviews."

Weird. But I couldn't say that without offending her. Instead, I just nodded. "Huh. I guess that makes sense."

"Except, I decided to become a nurse. Which is pretty much the most female-dominated field there is anyway."

"You're in the nursing faculty?"

Dumb question, Ethan. That's what she just said. The whole nurse thing was kind of sexy. Wait, sexy is bad. Sexy isn't for roommates. Stop it.

"I'm double majoring, actually, and my other major is psychology." She crossed her legs, shifting her weight. "It's just a few extra courses. What about you, what are you taking?"

Well, this explained why I hadn't seen her before. The nursing and social sciences buildings were located on the opposite side of campus from the business school. A double major was impressive though; she seemed smart. Another turn on. s**t.

"Management with a major in Finance."

She nodded thoughtfully, looking me over. "Yeah, you seem like the type."

I placed my hand on my chest and pretended to be offended. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing bad. You just have a nice place, you're well-dressed, it fits. That's all," she said.

I made a mental note that the new distressed jeans I was wearing were a hit. Then I kicked myself for caring. I wasn't here to hit on her, I was here to find someone to live with. And I wasn't sure where either of us stood on that topic.

"I should probably mention that I'm gone a lot because of hockey," I said. "We have a lot of late practices and road games."

"Oh. Cool." She nodded approvingly, her expression neutral.

That was the biggest non-reaction I had ever seen. Really?At our small, sports-oriented college, hockey was a Really Big Deal. Most people around campus were familiar with the team—and with me.

"I'm the Captain," I added, waiting for her to make the connection. Then I wondered why I was trying so hard to impress her. It seemed backward—a potential roommate should be the one trying to impress me—but I couldn't help myself.

"Ah." She remained unfazed. Either she was a convincing actress, or she genuinely had no idea who I was. "What do you say? Is the room still available?"

"You still want the room?" I asked. "Even though I'm..."

"A guy?" Ryan finished.

"Well, yeah." My father would probably have a stroke if he knew I had a girl living with me. But I supposed that was a notch in the 'pro' column, all things considered.

"It doesn't bother me." She arced a brow. "Does it bother you? Are you opposed to living with nurses? Or girls?"

Was she implying that I couldn't handle living with a girl? She was a bit of a ballbuster, it seemed. I kind of liked that. It could keep things interesting.

"I've had a female roommate before, and it was fine. It's not a big deal." Technically, it had been my older cousin, Sophie. But it still counted.

"Oh, thank god." Ryan huffed a sigh of relief, flopping back onto the couch. "This was my last resort."

Well, that didn't seem like a ringing endorsement.

She finished the last of her drink, standing back up. "I should get going, I still have tons of laundry to do back home. Er, at Isabelle's. Where I'm staying." Her eyes darted to me warily and she hesitated for a moment before speaking. Ryan gestured to the two of us. "This won't be weird... right?"

"It won't be weird unless we make it weird." I walked her to the front door, keeping a neutral expression and trying to give off the vibe of a modern, mature adult.

"Exactly," she said. "And we won't make it weird."

"Shoot me a text tomorrow and we can figure out the details."

"Perfect." With a wave, she spun on her heel and headed down the hall.

I locked the door behind her, mind spinning. I had enjoyed meeting her; maybe a little too much. Maybe this could be a mistake. After being single for 9 months and counting, life was easy—simple—and I had no desire to mess with that. My policy was no hooking up, no dates, no drama, and no heartbreak. Following a brief derailment last spring, I had things under control again; I was killing it on the ice and consistently making the Dean's List. It was a little boring, and even lonely at times, but still preferable to an emotional rollercoaster. I knew that from experience. I couldn't handle a repeat of what happened last year.

I weighed my options: take my chances living with her or remain in my self-imposed solitude. Coming home to an empty condo was downright depressing some days, and a roommate could solve that without the complications of a relationship.

What did it matter if she was hot? So were lots of the girls who I'd turned down over the past few months; there was no reason this had to be any different. We could simply be two mature, platonic roommates.