Chapter 2
When I walked out of the dorm building, the sunlight was harsh. I stood by the entrance for a moment and took a deep breath, catching the burnt smell of asphalt in the air.
The same group of guys was playing basketball on the court, the ball pounding against the pavement again and again.
I walked through the parking lot, unlocked my car, and slid into the driver's seat.
The cold air from the AC hit my face. I placed both hands on the steering wheel, digging my nails into the seams of the leather cover.
I didn't cry. My eyes were so dry that they hurt.
Over a year and a half, 60 thousand went onto the card I gave him, plus a 12-thousand-dollar birthday watch, a 4-thousand-dollar Valentine's Day necklace, and a 3-thousand-dollar phone.
I closed my eyes. All I could think about was the way he acted shy every time we got close, the way his fingers pulled away, the tips of his ears turning red, his lashes trembling.
It was all an act.
He was disgusted by me. When I wasn't around, he called me an old woman.
I took a deep breath and let it out. Then I started the engine, shifted into drive, and hit the gas.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, the dorm building shrank in the rearview mirror.
The corner of my mouth twitched. It wasn't a smile. It was the strange feeling of finally seeing things clearly.
By the time I got home, it was already evening. I tossed my suit jacket onto the couch, kicked off my shoes, and walked barefoot into the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of ice water and drank it in one go.
An ice cube knocked against my teeth, and the cold traveled all the way down my throat and into my stomach.
My phone buzzed again, but this time, it wasn't Ryan.
It was a message from a stranger whose username was "FitNotBald". The profile picture was a muscular Corgi.
The text read: [Eva, I'm Ryan's roommate. Sorry for texting you out of the blue, but there's something I wanted to tell you.]
I frowned and didn't reply.
Ten seconds later, another message popped up. [My abs are harder than his, and I'm stronger. Want to try something different?]
I stared at that line for several seconds.
Normally, I'd block someone for a message like that, but today wasn't normal.
I looked through his posts. There were pictures of him playing basketball, selfies of him lifting dumbbells in the dorm, and a collage of him finishing three plates of food in the cafeteria.
His latest post was from three days ago. [People can be really nasty.]
It made no sense without context.
I went back to the chat and typed. [Do you know about Ryan and me?]
He replied instantly: [I live with him. It'd be pretty hard not to know. I've heard exactly what he says about you in the dorm.]
There was a short pause. [Eva, that guy doesn't deserve you.]
I leaned against the kitchen counter, half an ice cube still sitting at the bottom of my glass.
Outside, the sky was painted a burnt orange by the sunset.
I thought for a moment. Then I opened my phone and sent him my address. [Come over tonight. Let's see what you've got.]
After sending that message, I tossed my phone onto the coffee table and went to take a shower.
The shower spray hit my shoulders, steam fogging up the bathroom glass. I looked at myself in the glass. My collarbones were defined, and my waist was slim and toned.
I was only twenty-eight. How exactly was I old?
"Every time that old woman kisses me, I feel like throwing up." Ryan's voice kept replaying in my head, each repetition making it harder to breathe.
I turned the water as hot as I could stand and stayed under it until my skin turned red. Only then did the tightness in my chest ease a little.
As I was drying my hair, my phone screen lit up.
FitNotBald: [Got the address. What time?]
I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 8:10. [Nine.]
FitNotBald: [Okay.]
That was it. No hesitation. No asking if this was a bad idea. No pretending he needed time to think about it.
I wrung out my wet hair, slipped into a loose T-shirt and shorts, and froze for a second.
I had no clue what I was doing.
When I sent that message, all I could hear was Ryan's voice in my head. That disgusted, contemptuous tone he used when he talked about me, as if I were nothing more than a cash cow.
As for what his roommate wanted, I didn't know.
*****
The doorbell rang.
8:52. He was eight minutes early.
I walked to the door and peeked through the peephole.
Under the hallway lights, a guy was standing there.
My first thought was, Holy shit. Was that what Ryan's roommate looked like?
He was well over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and long legs. He wore a black athletic T-shirt that fit tightly across his body, making every line of his build clear.
His jaw was sharp, his hair was short, and he had the kind of naturally good looks that made it seem as if he couldn't be bothered to style himself.
In his left hand, he was holding a bag that looked like it was full of barbecue takeout. His right hand was knocking on the door.
I took a deep breath and opened the door.
He looked down at me.
His towering figure loomed over me, his gaze falling on the top of my head as an overwhelming sense of pressure washed over me.
"Eva," he called out, his voice low and a bit husky. "I'm Aaron Harris."
Then he lifted the bag in his hand. "I came in a hurry, so I grabbed some barbecue on the way. Do you eat beef?"
I stepped aside, and he squeezed in sideways. The frame was a little narrow for him, and his shoulders nearly brushed against it.
Once inside the living room, he looked around. "Nice place you've got here."
"Yeah," I replied.
"Do you live here alone?"
"Yeah."
He set the bag on the dining table and turned to look at me.