“I know it’s a lot to ask, especially since you were doing me a favor by letting me stay there in the first place.”
Apartments in Hell’s Kitchen weren’t cheap, but my parents were happy to pay the rent while I was in design school. And they were thrilled to lease a two-bedroom so Wrenley could live with me because it meant I wasn’t on my own. “I don’t think you can call it a favor when having you here was as much for me as you.”
“Yeah, well…hopefully, you’ll still love me after having Clay crash in my room for two weeks.”
“I’m sure it will be fine. Two weeks isn’t that long.” I did a horrible job sounding sincere, but it was tough to pretend I was looking forward to sharing a bedroom wall with a total stranger.
“He said he was cool with moving into a hotel instead, but I didn’t feel right making him pay to stay somewhere when my room was sitting empty. But if you’re not comfortable, I can tell Jordan that—”
I wasn’t about to let her sacrifice her happiness for me. “Seriously, Wrenley. It’s okay. If he’s Jordan’s best friend, then that’s good enough for me. I’ll go tidy up the mess I left in the living room. You go let him know it’s okay to come over whenever he’s ready.”
3
Clay
“Icalled Marleigh and told her you’ll be coming to stay,” Wrenley told me. Her smile was a little off, though, which made me suspicious.
My eyes narrowed. “Are you really sure about this?”
“Yup,” Jordan interrupted. Then he dragged Wrenley into his side and swiftly led her away before she could answer me.
I frowned, staring out across the backyard but not really seeing any of the people. I was gripping the neck of my half-full bottle of beer and drained it in one gulp.
The Nighthawks kicker strolled up to my side. Roan was one of the players who had become a close friend since I moved to New York. I wondered where he’d come from and if he’d heard the conversation between Jordan, Wrenley, and me. He didn’t mention it, though, just handed me a freshly opened beer. “You looked like you needed this.” He took my empty and threw it into one of the bins set out for collecting recyclables.
I lifted the bottle in a small salute, then took a swig, downing half of it in one gulp. “Thanks,” I muttered.
“This crowd isn’t what has you in a mood, is it? Because you’ve impressed the fuck out of us all, Clay. You’re an asset, and we’re glad to have you on the team.”
His words soothed a little of the anxiety I’d been carrying around, but it didn’t snuff out the frustration at Jordan for forcing me into an uncomfortable situation. What did I know about living with a female? What if she got the wrong idea and became clingy and started planning our wedding? She was Wrenley’s best friend, so I couldn’t exactly just brush her off and disappear. I brought the drink to my lips and emptied the rest of the bottle in one swallow.
“No,” I croaked out before the silence became awkward. “I appreciate you sharing that, though. It’s nice to know that the feelings of loyalty and respect are mutual.”
Roan shrugged, still watching me closely. “Didn’t want doubts mucking up our rhythm on the field when the season starts. You want to talk about whatever else is bothering you?”
I shook my head and tossed the empty bottle in the same bin. “Just personal shit. I’ll tell you another time.”
Roan didn’t push, which was one of the things I liked about him. But he also seemed to sense when someone needed to be alone or wanted company, even if it was simply being there in the silence.
After several minutes of quiet, Roan spoke up. “You could stay with me if you want.”
Ahh, he did hear our conversation. I shot him a grateful smile, then winced. “I appreciate that, man, I do. But no way in hell am I staying at your place. Too much estrogen.”
Roan’s cousin had recently passed away, and though they hadn’t been particularly close, he’d agreed to be the godfather of her two girls. Apparently, she hadn’t trusted her ex-husband or anyone in his family. On her side, Roan, his parents, and his sister were pretty much the only family she had left.
Three months ago, she’d lost a battle with cancer—that no one had known she was fighting—and he ended up with custody of her six month and three-year-old little girls. Jordan mentioned that Roan had been worried he’d have to retire because being a pro football player and a single dad would be incredibly difficult. He refused to let his girls—he only ever referred to them as his—be raised by nannies. But Roan’s nineteen-year-old twin sisters came to the rescue and moved in with him. He’d brought all four girls with him to the barbecue. After seeing him with his “daughters,” I had to admit, you’d never know he wasn’t their birth father.
Roan chuckled. “Fair,” he conceded. “Do you need help moving?”
I shook my head and smirked. “Nah. I’m gonna make Jordan do all the heavy lifting.”
“Just don’t let him get injured,” Roan ordered, though his tone was filled with amusement. “Take it up with him on the field.”
“You better fucking believe that shit is coming,” I growled. Glancing at my watch, I sighed at the time. “I should probably go pack. Don’t want to show up at this chick’s apartment too late. She might be the type who goes to bed early. The last thing I need in my life is a pissed-off female.”
I winced when I thought about Jordan mentioning how neat and clean Wrenley was. If my new roommate was half as picky, we would have problems. I wasn’t a slob, but I also wasn’t a fan of putting away my laundry or making my bed. Normally, I had a housekeeper for that kind of stuff.
My situation just kept getting worse by the minute. I told myself that Wrenley would never be best friends with someone who was crazy, annoying, or had a habit of attaching herself to a guy like a succubus and trying to convince him, and the rest of the world, they were soul mates.