Vivian—Ana—mumbles, “It was just in passing. Names weren’t even exchanged.” And with that, she looks back to her friend. “I think I’m gonna try my luck with Hannibal.”
Hannah chokes out a laugh, completely oblivious to the way my heart thunders in my chest. “You’d risk death rather than shack up with Ruiz? Wow.”
“Home is supposed to be a safe space, right? Comfort.” She brings her gaze back to me. “I think Hannibal is less of a risk, if you’re as horrible as your friends claim.”
“He is,” Axel inserts, again before I can speak. “He walks around with a black raincloud above his head all the fuckin’ time. It’s depressing.”
“Mmhm.” I look down at my dinner and cut into my lasagna. “Your inability to sell me to your friend kind of implies you secretly love having me here. If you really wanted me gone, you’d say whatever needed to be said.”
“Nah. That’s called integrity. And if I lied just to get you out, she’d come over after a single night and slit my throat anyway. I want you gone, Ruiz. But not enough to commit suicide.”
It’s lucky I’m not insecure. That I place no value on the opinion others have of me. Because if I were a more sensitive guy, I might get my feelings hurt.
Instead, I turn to Vivian and meet her stunning eyes. So different from Ainsley’s. But so perfectly matched to the pair I still dream about every fucking night. “I don’t think it’s smart of you to look for a new roommate. Consider downsizing to something you can afford alone instead.”
“I don’t think it’s smart of you to tell me what to do with my life,” she counters easily. “It’s presumptuous and rude.”
“Presumptuous,” Hannah echoes, lifting a single finger. “Rude.” She lifts a second. “We warned you about those.”
“I’m not trying to tell you what to do,” I grit between tight teeth. “I’m trying to make sure you’re not killed in your safe space.”
“Considering I’ve survived this long without your input,” she accepts the salad bowl when Hannah offers it across the table, “I think I’m gonna be just fine as I walk into the future. Alone.”
“You could probably bring Jedd home, anyway,” Hannah oh-so-helpfully suggests. “He’s always been protective of you.”
My brow shoots high on my forehead. “Jedd?”
“And Diesel,” the brunette adds. “They get along well enough, and can both take care of you.”
“Diesel?” I question. Though, like the first time, I go ignored.
“You’ll have enough room, since the apartment isn’t small,” Hannah reasons. “And who knows, maybe Hannibal could be a fun third.”
“Three guys?” I demand. “In one apartment?”
“It usually takes a minute to convince one protective guy to allow another in. But things tend to work out for the best once everyone’s goals align. Protect the pretty lady.”
“And where would the extras sleep?” I look to Axel, searching for an ally. But he’d rather eat than chime in about a fucking orgy. “That’s four people in a two-bedroom apartment.”
“Diesel and Jedd can sleep in my room.” Vivian—fucking Ana, my anarchist—plops a length of carrot between her teeth. “We’ve done it before and it worked out just fine.”
“Except they got a little territorial.” Hannah picks up her untouched glass of wine and takes a sip. “Remember, you had to break up that fight?”
“I guess we’ll figure it out.” Peering to the clock on the wall—eight o’clock—then down to her almost empty plate, Ana glances my way and smiles like we truly are strangers. Polite. Perfunctory. “I’ll let Hannibal in, so he can carry half the rent. Diesel and Jedd will protect me from becoming a skinsuit, and I won’t have to move out. It’s the best scenario, really.”
“I’ll take the fuckin’ room.” I shove up from my chair so the feet scrape along the tiles, then I stalk out of the kitchen while the others stare at my back.
Their heated gazes burn my flesh. Their unspoken words, louder than a shout.
I shake my head and know—I know!—becoming Ana’s roommate will be the worst decision I ever make in my life. But I’ll be damned if her choices are Hannibal Lecter, hooking on a corner, or an orgy in her bedroom.
Not my Ana. Not in this lifetime.
So I stride up the stairs and snatch up a bag as I enter my room.
Ten minutes later, I stomp down the stairs again with all my things packed up and a bad mood thumping at the back of my skull. “I’m ready to go.”
I take out my wallet and grab my debit card from the slot, then I toss it down on the table in front of the beautifully innocent Ana. “Take the first and last month’s rent. I’ll split utilities. You don’t invite an orgy over without running it by me first, so I can make sure I’m not home.”