“Definitely perfect,” he agrees.
“Oh my God, why are you here?” I demand and prop my hands on my hips. “You’re a gazillionaire. You could literally go anywhere. Why do you want my condo?”
“I’m not a gazillionaire,” he says and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m more of a trazillionaire.”
“Pretty sure that’s the same thing. So, go build your own building and live in it.”
“Nah.” He picks a piece of donut out of his teeth and shakes his head slowly. “I don’t think I will. I’ll stay here.”
I blink at him and start to feel helpless. My savings is in this place. I don’t have enough left to rent anything else.
And I don’t have time. I start work in just three days.
Part of me wants to cry, but I’ll be damned if I let this hoity-toity movie star see me upset.
So, I do the only thing I can think of.
I prop my fist on the opposite hand in a challenge of rock, paper, scissors.
“What are you doing?” he asks, raising one sexy eyebrow.
“The adult thing,” I reply primly. “Best out of three wins?”
He blinks twice, looks from my hands to my face and back again, then shrugs one muscular shoulder and assumes the position.
“Fine,” he says. “I’m going to win—wait. What’s your name?”
“Aubrey,” I say and lick my lips. “Aubrey Stansfield. And you’re Wyatt Earp.”
His lips twitch into a half-smile. “I only played him on TV.”
I chuckle and say, “Ready?”
“Go,” he says, and we thump our fists three times.
I land on scissors.
He fists for rock.
Damn it.
“Let’s go again,” Zane says.
One. Two. Three.
I land on paper.
He chooses rock again.
I grin, and his blue eyes smile back.
There’s a reason Zane Cooper is the hottest sex symbol in the world. Good God, I might combust just from standing next to him.
All the more reason to get him out of my house.
“Last one,” I say. “Go.”
One. Two. Three.
I land on paper again, assuming Zane only knows how to use rock.
But he forms scissors.
I breathe deeply and reach for my last damn donut.
“That’s mine,” he says, and I whirl on him.
“This is mine,” I reply hotly. “I stood in a bloody line in Portland for it, just this morning. I drove all the way here from Arizona. I’m tired. I’m a little scared. And now I have you in my house, and you won’t leave. Even better than that, you just stole it out from under me.”
“I won it,” he reminds me. “Fair and square. The donut, that is.”
I stop and frown at him. “Huh?”
“I won the donut. In the rock-paper-scissors game.”
“I was playing for the condo, Wyatt.”
He barks out a laugh. “Not me. I want that donut.”
I consider him, then the sugar bomb in my hand. Finally, I just break it in half and give him the bigger piece.
“That’s as good as you’ll get because I need this sugar,” I inform him. “You’re really not leaving, are you?”
He sighs, rubs his hand over his face, and then shakes his head. “No. Out of principle, I’m not. And neither are you.”
“I’m not living here with you.”
“There are two bedrooms,” he reminds me, sounding perfectly reasonable. “You can take the guest room.”
“Fuck that,” I explode, having just hit the wall of my patience. “No way. I took this place because of that water view. Because I want to drink coffee and stare at it. And I’ll damn well have it. If you don’t like it, there’s the door, Zane Cooper. Don’t let it hit you on your gazillionaire ass on the way out.”
“Trazillionaire.” He watches me for a moment and then nods as if he’s made some kind of big decision. “Okay, then. Fine. I’ll take the smaller room, but I’m getting a new bed. Those twins are for children.”
“Just push them together and make a king,” I suggest and walk to the door.
“I’m not in an episode of I Love Lucy,” he replies. “Wait. Maybe I am. This whole situation is ridiculous.”
“You’re the one choosing to stay,” I remind him before closing the door behind me and marching down to my car.
I sit in the driver’s seat and dial the landlord’s number.
“Hello?”
“You made a big mistake,” I say immediately. “I just got to the condo, and there’s a man here who claims he rented it.”
“I just realized the problem this morning,” the landlord says. “Sorry. I have another place on the other side of the city. It’s not furnished, though. And no views.”
I growl in frustration. “No. I don’t want that at all. I can’t believe this.”
“So, you’re staying, then?”
“I guess. Since you screwed up so monumentally. And I expect my money back since Zane already paid in full for six months.”
He sighs on the other end of the phone. Yeah, I figured it out, you scammer.
“I’ll refund it,” he says and hangs up the phone.