I look down and see them by my blazer from the night before. I squat and grab them. “Goin’ to bed. Your room’s that way.” I gesture down the hall. “First door.”
“But…” she starts.
I don’t wait to see what comes after ‘but’. Instead, I head down the hall, carrying the bottle by the neck, my smokes in the other hand.
3
CARLY
“But…”
He’s gone. Absolutely ignored me.
What on earth have I walked into?
The guy was almost naked, showing off a body as good as any male fitness model I’d ever seen in print. But this wasn’t print; it was right in front of me. Ripples of muscles. Abs for days. Chiseled face. Tanned. Five o’clock shadow. Short messy dark hair and
dark chocolate brown bedroom eyes. Bedroom eyes. Did I say bedroom eyes twice? Talk about smolder. Full and pouty mouth. And those hip bones? It’s like he’s been Photoshopped in real life somehow. I can’t even…
Maybe he’s here just until Ally gets here. This apartment is The Shit, but it’s also the shit, because it’s trashed.
I stepped in on a domestic dispute of some sort that had something to do with a sex video? I don’t even wanna know. I got warned off by a girl who reeked of alcohol, sex, and bad decisions, and wound up in the middle of a post-party zone filled with overflowing ashtrays, empty beer bottles, multiple liquor bottles, and clothing and garbage strewn all over the place, then watched a 6 foot 2ish hottie in his underwear (with the most perfect hip bones known to man) stumble down the hall carrying a bottle of bourbon. And I had not been able to take my eyes off the ass (that you could bounce a quarter off of) of that ass who refused to answer my questions. My very reasonable questions.
His door clicks shut, and I look around.
This place would be beautiful if it didn’t look like it’d been trashed by a gaggle of drunk teenagers. It’s modern and industrial-looking with a loft feel. It has exposed beam and ductwork ceilings with several steel ceiling fans. Cream granite breakfast bar with three sleek chrome and brown leather stools. Distressed wood cupboards. Black appliances. One brick wall covered in black and white framed photos of landscapes, beachscapes, the New York City skyline, and a really cute baby, with the centerpiece an enormous TV.
The furniture looks comfortable. A big slouchy red couch (that he’d been on) and distressed dark wood coffee table, made more distressed-looking by the dishes and fast food garbage all over it. High-end stereo system. Marble fireplace that matches the breakfast bar and backsplash. Nice rustic wood floors.
It’s a long room that opens up into a hallway and I see pocket doors protruding, offering the ability to close off the living and kitchen combo space from the bedrooms space. There are four doors in the hall; two on one side, one on another, and one directly facing me at the end. The end one is where he went. I move into the hall to investigate, arms filled with my bags. I see a big bathroom with a soaker tub and a shower spacious enough for a football team with a separate water closet that has a toilet and sink.
I open the second-last remaining door and see it’s a utility room with a sink and sleek-looking silver space-age laundry machines. This room serves as a linen closet, too, and it’s stocked with towels, sheets, and blankets.
If he vacates before I do, should I check out the room he used in case it’s better? Old me would never have done that. New me? Maybe I should. Maybe I will.
The first door on the left is my room and it is far from lacking, though. It’s spacious and clean-looking with white walls and white furniture. There’s a queen bed in the middle, covered with a navy and white striped comforter and a half a dozen blue and red pillows. There’s a sliding glass door with vertical blinds as well as a window seat that has soft sheers and mini blinds. The room has a spacious walk-in closet, long white dresser, and a medium-sized TV mounted on the wall. The view is fantastic. Water, palm trees, and tall buildings. Gorgeous.
This’ll do. This’ll do just fine.
I smile and dump my bags and do a backwards dive onto the bed and bounce, a big smile on my face.
Yeah, it wasn’t the entrance I expected. I expected to come into an empty and clean apartment, not walk into some hot guy’s fight with his girlfriend or hookup or whatever. But that’s okay. I’m not letting that dim my excitement about my new life.
He’ll probably be outta here today and then maybe there’ll be a cleaning service in. I’ll stay out of their way and maybe I’ll shop for some food. Perhaps tomorrow night, depending on when she arrives, me and Ally can go to that steakhouse together, if she’s likeable. I’m not opening myself to further abuse if she’s some corporate bitch who pretends to be nice when really, she’ll climb right over me on the corporate ladder, using my head as a rung. I’m a terrible judge of character, expecting everyone to be pure of heart. I gotta work on that.
Don’t be a doormat
Forgive and Forget are F-words.
Not everyone is pure of heart. Be suspicious of everyone.
These are my new rules and I must remember to follow them. I’ll add to them if necessary as I find my feet here in San Diego.
My phone starts ringing. I lift it out of my bag.
Jon calling.
I scrunch up my face. If we’re over, why is he calling me again? Decline.