Page 7 of Pucking My Grumpy Roommate
I smiled at the nickname she’d embraced and found myself responding.
Luck is on your side, Desert Survivor. As for the serial killer possibility, always check for good lighting. Serial killers prefer dim environments for their decorative bone displays.
Thanks for the tip, Mr. Wrong Number. I’ll be sure to request a full lighting demonstration. So what’s your story? Let me guess—you’re a Minnesota native who finds our current “cold snap” refreshing?
I considered what to share. For once, I had the chance to be someone other than Austin “Stone” Callahan, hockey star sidelined by injury.
Close. I’ve been here long enough that the cold doesn’t faze me anymore. Job keeps me busy, recently had some health issues that slowed me down. Nothing too exciting.
I hit send, enjoying the anonymity of the conversation.
CHAPTER 3
KATE
Istood outside the luxury apartment building, staring up at it and questioning my life choices. My wheeled suitcase kept tipping over in the slush, and I was precariously balancing a carrier with two coffees while trying to text Stone that I’d arrived.
“You’ve got this, Kate,” I whispered to myself, adjusting my scarf with my chin. “It’s just an apartment viewing. Not a Nobel Prize acceptance speech.”
After three attempts at pressing the apartment number on the intercom with my elbow (while not spilling the coffees), I was buzzed in without any questions. Good sign? Serial killer sign? The jury was still out.
The elevator ride to the eleventh floor gave me just enough time to rehearse my opening line.
I knocked on apartment 1103, plastering what I hoped was a normal-human smile on my face. The door swung open to reveal possibly the most intimidating man I’d ever seen.
Six-foot-something of solid muscle, dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and a scowl that could frighten a grizzly bear. This wasnot what I’d pictured when messaging “Stone” about the apartment.
“Can I help you?” His voice was deep, with an edge of impatience.
I thrust forward one of the coffees like a peace offering. “Hi! I’m Kate Ellis? The microbiologist? We messaged about the sublet?” Each sentence rose in pitch until I sounded like a cartoon chipmunk.
The man’s scowl deepened. “I think you have the wrong apartment.”
“Oh! I’m so sorry. This isn’t 1103? I’m looking for Stone?” I glanced down at my phone to double-check the address.
“I’m Stone. Austin Stone Callahan. But I’m not subletting my apartment.”
My heart sank. “But we messaged yesterday! About the two-bedroom near campus? Available immediately? I brought coffee as a thank you?” I wiggled the carrier hopefully.
Recognition flashed across his face, followed by something that looked dangerously like anger. “Dennis,” he muttered, pulling out his phone. “I should’ve known.”
“Who’s Dennis?” I asked, completely lost now. “I was messaging someone named Stone.”
“Stone is my nickname. Dennis is my teammate who apparently thinks pranking me is a professional sport. I just didn’t think he’d go as far as offering my apartment to a stranger.” He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“So...there’s no sublet?”
Homeless again.
He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed dramatically. “You’d better come in while I figure this out.”
I followed him into an apartment that looked like it had been plucked from an architectural magazine. All clean lines, neutral colors, and not a single item out of place.
“Wow, this is...immaculate. Do you actually live here or is this a furniture showroom?” The words tumbled out before my brain’s filter could catch them.
He turned to face me, one eyebrow raised. “Yes, I live here. Some of us prefer order.”
“Right! Of course. Order is great. Very...orderly.” I nodded vigorously, causing the coffee carrier to tilt. One cup slipped free, hit the pristine hardwood floor, and splashed its contents. Thankfully, I’d already drunk most of it, but even the remaining few ounces began spreading across the flawless floor, inching toward what looked like an extremely expensive rug. “Oh my god!” I dropped to my knees, frantically trying to stop the flow with my scarf. “I’m so sorry! Caffeine molecules are surprisingly adept at adhering to porous surfaces due to their polar nature, which is why coffee stains are so persistent, but if we act quickly the tannic acid won’t have time to?—”
