“He asked me to be exclusive. He asked me! I told him I wasn’t ready to get into anything serious because I still had school, and then he goes and buys me roses and takes me out to dinner and asks if we can take the next step. I have a key to his apartment! And now? Now he’s kissing complete strangers? Putting his dick wherever he pleases? Is it some sort of sick game with these two or what?”
“I wish I knew,” I whispered. “Believe me, I do.”
That was the end of our meaningful conversation.
Both of us were too upset to say anything more until the car was about a mile from my apartment, and even then we basically took turns crying and cursing men to hell the entire last mile of the ride. When she dropped me off, we hugged, then did what best friends do: told each other never to date again and promised to eat ice cream the next day until we got sick.
She didn’t have any of her things with her, and she had a huge test to study for—which left me alone with my peeping Tom neighbor and the same sly spider who still hadn’t found the will to die.
Ah, a pet.
That’s nice.
“Hi, spider.” I opened up my laptop and breezed through a few TV shows. My fridge was empty. I had no ice cream. No wine. Water. I had water. I would get paid soon, but it would be my only paycheck since I’d just quit.
Stupid Avery.
I needed money!
And I quit over a man.
Not just any man.
I sniffled, then shouted, “DAMN YOU, LUCAS THORN! Curses on your perfect hair, and that stupid cleft in your chin. I hope it turns into a giant wart and grows a single tough hair that refuses to be plucked!”
The spider crawled back into its hole.
I had scared my pet.
A loud banging sounded at my door.
Cringing, I waited for it to stop, but it didn’t.
Finally, I pulled open the door.
My landlord did not look pleased. “You’ve been warned, Avery.”
“Warned?” I frowned. “Warned about what?”
“Rent.”
“I paid rent.”
“You paid last month’s rent. This month’s rent was due three weeks ago.”
Impossible. I did the math. No, no, no, that couldn’t be right.
“And I have someone willing to move in immediately, so . . .” He rocked back on his heels. “You have one day to get packed.”
Great. I had one day to pack up my laptop and spider. No problem. I’d just go find a box to set up on the street corner and pray it didn’t rain.
Tears filled my eyes.
“No.” He shook his head. “No tears, Avery. This is business. I’ve put notices on your door for weeks. This ends now.”
He walked off.
I glanced at my door.
To be fair, the notices were underneath another notice that the building was going to be under construction, and it’s not like I’d actually been staying at my own apartment for the past few days.
I’d been with the devil at his.
My stomach grumbled. I should have eaten at the party.
I slumped to the ground, the door still open, and cried.
Footsteps neared. I didn’t look up. Take your fill, creepy Mr. Thompson! This is the last you’ll see of Avery Bla—
“Avery.” Lucas breathed my name. “Avery Bug, what happened? Are you hurt?”
“Only everywhere,” I mumbled through my tear-soaked fingers. “But you know that’s to be expected when the man you love is an asshole and you just got evicted.”
“You what?” He stood and stepped over me.
“Evicted, you know, meaning you’re homeless, and—hey!” I clenched my fists. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he rummaged through my only closet, grabbed two bags, and started pulling all my clothes, with hangers, onto the bed.
“Thorn!”
He didn’t respond. He breezed into my kitchen, opened every single cupboard, frowned, and then asked over his shoulder, “Anything in the fridge?”
My stomach grumbled again.
“Guess that’s my answer.”
“You can’t be here. I don’t want to see you . . .” I was three seconds away from launching myself onto his buff body and beating his back with my fists until he left.
And then he stopped. He didn’t smile; he just stopped, in the middle of the room, and stared me down.
It was uncomfortable.
I started to fidget.
“Any furniture other than this futon?”
Embarrassment washed over me. “No, I haven’t had time to—”
“Good.” He walked back into my bedroom and used my bedspread to hold all the clothes. He then stripped the sheets, threw both pillows at me, and said, “Let’s go—I’ll come back for the furniture later.”
“I’m not going with you.” I held my ground.
Lucas sighed. “It’s me or the box near Pike and First, but I’ve heard that’s currently occupied by a homeless guy and his cart. Your choice though.”
I truly thought about it. A box would be nice; nobody would bother me except for the occasional homeless friend or possible rat.
“Avery Bug . . .” Lucas’s eyes pleaded with me. “Let me take care of you.”
I puffed out my chest. “This means nothing.”
“Fine.”
“It’s temporary.”
“Whatever you say.”
“And I’m not sleeping in your bed.”