by Wendy Owens
With that, the faceless voice came into view. As he stood, my breath caught in my throat. He stared at me for a moment, not saying a word. I was fine with this because I found myself staring right back.
He stood there, just looking at me, one dark, sinister, and oh so sexy eyebrow raised. He was a shirtless Adonis, there in the flesh, and I was helpless, unable to look away. For a moment, my eyes shifted down, drinking in his firm chest, chiseled abs, and the tease of the cut just above where his distressed jeans rested. His muscles were hard, though his body still lean.
Quickly, when I realized I was ogling this stranger’s body, I forced my eyes to shift back to his face, but there was no relief there from the exquisiteness. His straight, thick, dark black hair looked like he had just gotten out of bed, absolute perfection. I could even tell from the distance I stood, his eyes were a breathtaking icy gray. His complexion was flawless, accentuating the stubble of his three-day beard. He had a strong jawline that seemed to be clenched at the moment, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was annoyed by my presence.
“First off, no, this is not a loft. At least, not yet. It is a warehouse I’m in the process of converting to a loft space. Second, Paige doesn’t live here.” The words flew out of his mouth like spikes. I had obviously offended him. I turned my head, unable to carry on a conversation with him in his current state. The site of him, half-dressed, was actually starting to make me salivate.
“Wait, what?” I asked, seeking clarification, completely confused by this point, and embarrassed by my rudeness, but not willing to admit it.
“Oh, hey love!” Paige chirped strolling into the main room from the ominous dark hallway.
“Paige!” I exclaimed, relieved to see her face, though not much else about her seemed familiar. The hair, which had been blonde when I met her, was now auburn and wavy. Unable to help myself, I blurted out, “What happened to your hair?”
“Really? You didn’t know that was a wig? I think the real question is what are you wearing? Are you going out on a yacht or something after this?” Paige asked with a snicker, continuing to grab a dirty bowl from the kitchen counter and rinse it. I heard the shirtless man also laugh, followed by the thud of him plopping back onto the couch. I was now glad I had not apologized for my rude comments.
I then noticed Paige’s bare ass cheeks peeking out from under the oversized men’s dress shirt she was wearing, the sliver of cotton at her waist barely qualifying as underwear. Suddenly, I felt something I had never felt in my life: old.
Deciding to ignore the nagging self-deprecating thoughts that were sneaking into my head, I chose to ignore her comment about my clothes and instead asked, “I thought you said you lived in a loft?”
“I do.”
“This is not a loft!” I protested.
“I know. I don’t live here,” she replied, as if this were something I should have already known.
“Then why in the world would you tell me to meet you here?” I asked as Paige used the now only slightly soiled bowl to pour Cheerios into.
“She has a point. Quit telling people where I live!” the couch man called out from his hidden spot.
“Oh, shut up, Colin! It’s your stupid fault I have to find a new roommate in the first place.” Paige shouted through half chewed food.
Damn it, he looks like a Colin. Stupid sexy people and their stupid sexy names, I thought.
“What is going on out here?” a voice asked, walking out from the back room. He was wearing only boxer shorts, his body graced with muscles bulging from everywhere. His physique was very different from Colin’s. He was bulky, his neck broad, and though they shared the same dark hair color, this one’s was shorter, much more tailored.
The god-like creature walked up behind Paige, smacking her ass with one hand while wiping the sleep out of his eyes with the other.
“Oh nothing, just your brother being an ass,” Paige snarled.
“You’ve got a real classy broad there, bro,” Colin shot back.
“Can you two cool it for five minutes?” boxer boy asked, before looking around the kitchen with a puzzled stare, as if searching for something. “Hey babe, did you make me a bowl?”
Paige swallowed the bite in her mouth, and then replied, “You can use my bowl when I’m done.”
I cringed at the complete lack of hygiene that surrounded me. “Umm, hello? Remember me?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Clementine, this is my boyfriend, Christian. This place belongs to his brother—they’re renovating it. I guess you’ve met Colin.” After she finished speaking, she stuck her tongue at the invisible couch man.
Still stewing from his snickering in reference to Paige’s joke about my clothes, I decided not to give him the satisfaction of my acknowledging his existence. “So, you don’t live here?”
“No, I live in a loft a few doors down. I told you to meet me here because my roommate was getting her stuff out this morning, and I didn’t want it to be all awkward.”
“Why do you insist on calling your place a loft?” Colin asked, finally sitting up to make eye contact with someone he was engaged in a conversation with.
“Because it is,” Paige growled, squinting at him from across the room.
“Oh my God, Paige, it’s not! It is a two-bedroom apartment. There is nothing wrong with saying that. This place will be a loft.”
“This place is a rat hole!” Paige shouted, her cheeks bright red.
“Fine, whatever, then why don’t you go back to your own loft. And take Orange… Clementine… whatever her name is with you,” Colin commanded.
If I hadn’t been so insulted I was sure I could have come up with a witty response. “Nice to meet you, Christian. I’ll wait for you outside, Paige,” I instructed, turning and exiting. In the moment, I thought appreciating the introduction to his brother and not him would be quite a burn to Colin. Upon further reflection, I realized he probably didn’t even notice.
I took a step back, watching Paige as she fumbled with the keys in her hand, searching for the one that would provide access through the exterior security door. I wondered how she could look so fashionable in just a pair of cut off denim shorts and a button down shirt with a sheer scarf hanging around her neck. I could easily see her in the pages of a magazine, showing off the latest trends.
My first impression of the building was much better than of the warehouse space. The brick facade was well kept; below each window, flower boxes were perched, spilling over with color. At the edge of the street stood a tall oak tree in the small square of green space.
Paige sighed with relief after locating the correct key. Looking over her shoulder she explained, “I accidentally left my keys inside my place, so these are the spares I gave Christian, but he has all these blasted rental keys on his.”
“Oh—” I began, following close behind her, “is he a handyman or something?”
Paige laughed at my question. “Not exactly. The Bennett brothers own around fifty properties. Well, I guess to be accurate, Colin owns them, but Christian helps with all the renovations and upkeep.”
“Are they all as lovely as that last place?” I asked, horrific flashes of the warehouse running through my mind.
“Careful what you say about that place,” Paige said, climbing a set of stairs in front of us. “That project is Colin’s baby. He is sinking everything into it.”
“Why? It’s a wreck,” I stated.
“Shit,” Paige mumbled, halting at the top of the steps. I glanced around her to see a door propped open with a cardboard box.
“What’s wrong?”
“Bitch is still here,” Paige whispered looking back at me. I said nothing, unsure what she was talking about. “I guess we can still go in.”
“Is everything all right?” I inquired, anxious about whatever situation seemed to be putting her on edge.
“My ex-roommate—she was supposed to be out by this morning, but she’s still here.” Paige to
ok a deep breath, staring at the open door for a lingering moment.
“Things not end well?”
“It’s complicated,” Paige answered.
“Go ahead, tell her why it’s complicated,” an annoyed voice commanded from the doorway. Paige nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Bailey, hi, I didn’t know you were going to be here. We’ll just be in and out,” Paige said, ignoring the girl’s antagonizing remark.
“Whatever,” the girl she had referred to as Bailey snarled, before huffing as she dropped another box in the hallway. The awkwardness of the encounter made my stomach flutter. The girl made no effort at hiding her complete and utter disgust at the situation she was in.
She was actually quite pretty: blonde, with perfectly sun kissed highlights. Her cheekbones were high, eyes a sparkling blue, and a figure that made me assume she must have been a model acquaintance. Perhaps a working relationship soured? I thought.
Turning sideways, I made my way past the angry girl, and followed Paige inside the door. The apartment immediately opened up to a galley kitchen, which would have seemed odd to me before, but after seeing so many apartments in New York, nothing surprised me any longer. The floors were a beautiful golden shade of oak hardwood, the cabinets a darker wood that almost appeared black at first glance, the countertop space was sparse, to say the least, but the swirling marble seemed to make up for the lack of space. The appliances were on the smaller side, but all stainless steel.
The kitchen led straight into a huge open living room that was flanked with two large oversized windows that overlooked that large tree by the street. The main wall to the left was exposed brick—a decorative fireplace place in the middle, with candles tucked into the opening. A gray sofa separated the room from the kitchen, a distressed coffee table in front of it, rested on top of an ornate teal and white rug. Between the windows sat a small side table with a lamp that was made out of what appeared to be driftwood, and to the right was an oversized cream linen chair. If you added a little art to the walls, it would instantly feel like home.
“It’s a split bedroom layout. Your room has a bathroom with a stand up shower, but if I’m out you can use my bathroom, which has a tub,” Paige explained.
“Are you serious?” I asked. The place seemed too good to be true. I was waiting for the catch.
“Serious about what?” Paige asked raising her eyebrows.
“This place seems too good. How much did you say rent would be?”
“For your half it’s $1500, and that includes your utilities,” Paige explained the terms. That was my entire monthly budget I was getting from school, which meant I would have to use savings and any money I could make to pay for food and other living expenses. I had naively hoped I would find a place for a fraction of my budget, but I was quickly learning this was not Indiana.
“Bailey, can I show her your old room?” Paige asked, attempting politeness.
“I don’t give a shit, it’s not mine anymore,” the girl snapped, rushing past. Ever since we had entered the place, her packing efforts seemed to be in high gear.
“Slut,” Paige whispered, walking toward the open bedroom to the right of the apartment. “This would be your bedroom. The bed and dresser stay, but you have to provide all of your own linens, and anything else you might need.”
Paige stepped into the room, moving off to one side. The room was a unique shape with one of the exterior walls angling into the square footage. The same exterior wall was also exposed brick; the angled area had a window in the center of it. Behind Paige was the entrance to the modest bath. I couldn’t help myself, I giggled.
“Is something funny?” she asked defensively.
“No, the place is great. I can’t believe how many places I’ve looked at that didn’t even have a window. What’s the catch?”
I followed her as she walked back into the main living area. “No catch, just a good deal.”
“Yeah, no catch, right,” Bailey said sarcastically, walking past us to pick up another box.
“Grow up,” Paige spat angrily.
The girl stopped in front of me, looking me up and down for a moment. “Word of advice, stay clear of the landlord.”
“Umm, okay,” I answered softly, shifting my weight from foot to foot uncomfortably.
“Shut up, Bailey, it was your choice to sleep with him. Why don’t you quit blaming everyone else for your problems?” Paige pushed back, raising her voice.
“He cheated, Paige. He was wrong, not me,” Bailey argued.
“Oh my God, I’m not doing this with you again!” Paige yelled, turning toward the door and walking out of the apartment, calling over her shoulder, “Leave your keys on the counter.”
I stood there for a moment, staring at the girl whose anger had shifted to pain. I felt like I should say something, but I suddenly realized I was alone in the apartment with her. Without a word, I darted out into the hallway and down the steps, catching up with Paige on the sidewalk.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, a little unnerved by the confrontation.
“Want to get some coffee?” Paige asked, ignoring my question.
“I suppose,” I answered, secretly eager to wrap up the deal.
“There’s a great place down a block, Ninth Street Espresso. They make an insanely good espresso with milk.” Paige was clearly focused on not talking about what had just happened.
“Never had one,” I replied.
“Never had what?” Paige asked, shoving her hands into her pockets, wiggling a stray pebble loose from her gladiator sandals.
“An espresso,” I answered flatly.
“Like, ever?” she asked.
“I tend to just drink plain old black coffee,” I explained. “I guess I’m boring that way.”
“You’ve got to learn to live a little my friend,” Paige commanded, flashing me a brief smile.
“So I have to tell you, I love the apartment, if you’re interested in having me move in, I would really like to rent the room from you for the next two semesters.” I held my breath, hoping she was as interested in me as I was in the unit.
Paige stopped just outside the door of a shop with a coffee cup decal on the glass. She looked at me through squinted eyes. “You’re not going to end up going all single white female on me like Bailey, are you?”
“Well, since I don’t know how she went all crazy on you I can’t make any promises,” I replied, in hopes I might get more of the mysterious ex-roommate picture.
“Fair enough,” Paige said with a shrug, not taking the bait, and opened the door.
When I walked into the narrow shop I was in awe. Everything in the city still seemed to wow me. Where I came from, we had either Starbucks or the country diners. There was nothing like these trendy coffee shops. Behind the counter was a map of the world splayed across the back wall, and in the corner the words, ‘Ninth Street Espresso’ were stenciled. A simple sign hung at one end of the counter with the minimalist menu displayed across it, making your choice simple. However, Paige was right; I wanted to live a little. I wanted to try everything. Paige made the decision easy for me when she ordered two espressos and milk.
I pulled my money from my pocket, preparing to pay, when she waved me off with a smile. “Hey Bill,” she chirped to the man at the register, moving down to wait for her order. They made small talk for a moment, and I wondered how often she came to the location. Once the order was ready she snatched up the cups and turned to take a seat. I lifted my eyebrows, clearly puzzled by the transaction not involving the exchange of money.
Paige giggled and then whispered, “The boys own this building. They haven’t made me pay for coffee since I started dating Christian.”
“Wow, nice perk,” I replied, taking a seat across from her. She slid the small cup in front of me, and I watched the steam rise off of it, dancing through the air.
Raising her cup, she extended her hand in my direction, gesturing a t
oast. As the cups clanged together she said, “To trying new things.”
I could tell Paige liked to try new things. It was obvious she was not afraid to live; even when she walked it seemed like her small frame translated to a beast on the prowl, searching for an adventure. I envied that about her. I missed my four walls in Indiana, the security, and the sanctuary of solitude it had become for me. It wasn’t who I had wanted to become, but simply who I was comfortable being.
“So—” I pushed, “are you going to tell me the story about your ex-roomy, or do I just have to guess?”
“Your guessing might be fun,” Paige answered with a grin.
I sipped the drink, the creamy dream of it lingering on my tongue. The bitterness, and reason I had never tried one, were nowhere to be found. Another thing I had been missing out on because of my baseless fears. “Oh my God! This is so good.”
“Stick with me, hon, there are so many good things I can show you in this city.” I couldn’t decide if her offer excited or frightened me, but then I decided it was perhaps a little of both.
“So back to crazy girl story,” I said with a laugh.
“There’s not much to tell. She slept with Colin and tried to make it into something more than it was. Totally became a stalker chick,” Paige’s voice carried an intense disdain.
“Wait, what?” I gasped. “Colin is your landlord?”
“Yeah? Why do you think I get such a good deal? Christian and I have been together since we were kids,” Paige explained.
“Does the guy own the entire block? This is insane.” I thought of the way he looked, trying to figure out exactly how old he was, but all I could remember was his flat stomach and that he had called me Orange.
“It’s complicated. A lot of shit happened to the boys pretty early. Colin has always been driven. Say what you will about him, but he never beats around the bush when it comes to women he sees. I know it seems like I argue with him, but it’s more like a big bro, little sis thing with us. He wasn’t even interested in Bailey; she was the one who kept pushing it. He let her know it was a one time thing, but she thought she could make it into more.”