My mouth falls open at his playful and bossy tone, but it doesn't mess with his smile. The man is unperturbed, which frustrates me. Rather than remind him I'm maimed, I move on to the next pressing topic."What's that?" I point to the table in question.He cocks an eyebrow in my direction and raises a hand like he's about to check for a temperature, but I bat it away. "A coffee table.""I realize it's a coffee table, Ryland. Where did it come from?""First, call me Ry. My mother's the only person who calls me Ryland. Second, I bought the table this morning.""You bought a table this morning?" My wrapped foot rests on the floor, the throbbing pressure increasing by the minute. It must be the reason I'm hearing his answers wrong.He slides the table a few inches closer. "Yeah, I stopped by to wake you up this morning and noticed you didn't have one. I picked it up down the road and they delivered it an hour later."My eyes rise to the ceiling as I work through everything he
He laughs, but it's humorless. "My dad. He didn't want one of my places to sit empty. Kept making suggestions he and my mother could move out here. I needed a renter quickly, but I wanted a nice quiet tenant. The Commandments were my way of ensuring I wouldn't be annoyed in my own home."Now it's my turn to laugh. "A thousand bucks for this place in the heart of the city? There isn't a rule alive to keep someone away from a deal like this. People would sign over their first born to live here.""Yeah, I figured out my mistake when the real-estate company called with an agreement within an hour of its listing.""Did it work?""Finding a tenant that doesn't annoy me?" He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in complete dispassion. "No.""Trust me. You're a real peach to live with too." The insult slips out and I immediately feel bad. He brought me breakfast...... and a coffee table. I look up to offer an apology, but catch Ryland suppressing a tiny grin. He's not ups
I check my reflection in the elevator's mirrored surface and smooth down the few flyaway hairs on top of my head. Yesterday Ryland worked for over an hour with me on how to use crutches. It's difficult, but at least I'm not a total mess on them any longer. This morning as I prepped for my first day back to work, I dressed extra nice in my favorite black business suit with a slimming pink blouse. I didn't dress nicely so Ryland would visualize me in clothes other than pajama pants with ponies on them. I did it for work.It didn't matter. I fumbled out my door and was met by a Post-it note stuck to the front of Ryland's. The man loves his sticky notes. His chicken scratch scrawl on the bright yellow paper let me know he'd started a morning run but left the door unlocked. I wasn't let down or anything. It's better I wasn't forced to deal with his attitude so early in the day.Nine hours later and for unknown reasons, my nerves are ratcheted. I'm not sure what I'll find in Ryland's apa
Another day begins and ends with a ride in Ryland's elevator. Except today I'm curious. Can I expect the abs to be on display? More yoga with his butt high in the air? Or maybe I'll find him in lederhosen dancing a jig. The endless possibilities raise my lips into a smile as the elevator doors slide open to reveal his white walled hallway."You're back early." A female voice stops me in my tracks.I hesitate, but whoever the woman is doesn't seem to notice as she keeps talking to a person she can't see. "There are a few things left, but I'm almost finished."With a straight back and sure crutches, I walk down the hallway with deep breaths to prepare for whatever I'll find.The end of the hallway approaches and I stop at the edge. A tall woman in a light blue baby doll t-shirt leans over Ryland's kitchen island counter wiping the surface down with a dishtowel. Her long blonde hair falls in front of her, obscuring my view of her face, but I bet she's gorgeous.She looks up and
What sweet hell is this? Today, the first time this week I've felt comfortable walking into Ryland's condo and I'm greeted with this? I wasn't prepared for this."Hey." The man in question raises one hand to wave at me while I stand at the end of his hallway gaping. He's positioned between me and the door in a bright orange kayak wearing a life vest and using a matching orange oar to fake paddle on his hardwood floors.Ryland's gone insane. Do I laugh, cry, or call an institution for him?Back to his rowing, he leans forward in the seat and paddles with short quick strokes. Fake waves? Rapids?"What are you doing, Ryland?"My question interrupts his stroke and he straightens, slowing his paddle motion. "Practicing my rowing," he answers over a shrug like I'm weird for asking and this is a normal everyday occurrence around here. Hell, maybe it is."Where are you planning to kayak in San Francisco?"This time he puts the oar down on the side of his vessel. "The bay," he ans
"Marissa! You can't sneak up behind someone and kill them." Ryland yells at me from his position on the couch and his Dragons Reborn player runs in the opposite direction fleeing an attacking PC — a character created by the game and not controlled by a human."Why not? We're trying to win aren't we?" My sword slashes through another opponent sent by the game to help defend the treasure chest we're fighting for.His fingers stop pressing buttons on his controller as he turns to me. "It's not good game play.""I need to upgrade my sword. The one you gave me takes three strikes to kill a PC player." Clashes of iron against iron fill the room as I attack the last guard. Ryland holds his character back while mine jogs forward to inspect the contents of the chest we fought valiantly for."You're so violent for someone so small."I add a few pieces of iron from the chest to my inventory. They'll help with my upgraded sword. "I told you. I'm not small. I'm average. You're too tall. I
555-7845: What are you doing?The text, from a number not already in my phone and an area code I've never heard of, flashes on my phone screen until I'm curious enough to open it. 555 Where is that, Oz? I almost don't respond, but my Good Samaritan wins out in the end. It's a Saturday afternoon and I'm stuck in my teeny tiny apartment with nothing to do but watch television. Even worse, reality television.Anyway, in the end I text back because there's a chance it's a random cutie... I mean the Good Samaritan thing.Me: Who is this?555-7845: Your favorite sexy landlord.Ryland. No one at my last complex could be considered sexy. A few hundred questions come to mind. Where is he? Why is he texting me? How did he get my number? When did Mr. Runs Ten Miles Every Morning decide he's too lazy to walk across the hall? They're important questions, which I'll ask eventually, but I can't miss my chance to screw with him a smidge first. The man's a tad uptight at times. Humor will do
Grant feigns a proper amount of outrage over the bit of information I share. "That's horrible, Marissa. How can you be expected to kill zombies, ogres, and skeleton warriors without the proper equipment?" He guides me to the couch where a third controller's been plugged into the game box. "Luckily for you, I do believe I have an extra enchanted sword in one of my rooms. If you come to my section of the castle, I'll gladly let you use it.""That's so sweet of you, Grant. Thank you," I answer with my best Southern Belle impersonation. This is a guy who understands how to play along."I'll take care of you, Kitten," Grant replies grabbing a hand to keep our charade at full steam.Ryland scoffs on his side of the couch. "Oh get off it, mate."I narrow my eyes at him, but speak to Grant. "Do you know where to buy a bike? A parking spot recently opened up." Let's see what Ryland does when he comes home to find a bike in one of his precious parking spaces."Like a pedal bike?" Rylan
Six months later"I thought you were painting this room silver?" Hudson asks dropping his half of the couch inside of our brand-new tiny living room. That's not fair. It's bigger than the apartment when I lived with Marissa. Living here will be like me having my own special mansion. Except this time the rent is higher.I put my end of the couch down and then promptly sit at the end of it. I've done my part of moving. This is why we hired movers. I don't know what it is about men wanting to lift heavy objects. Plus, it's not like there's much furniture to move. The old apartment came furnished. This stuff is new.I look at the wall, which shimmers in the bright light from our large open window in the new living room. "I did. It's Silver Fox.""This color is gray.""No, it's Silver Fox.""It looks gray to me."I shake my head in dismay. "Gray is darker."He nods slowly. "Uh-huh. Whatever you say."Hudson and I have been living together since he made the permanent move t
A few weeks later"Wow, Finn hooked you up." My eyes blink a few times trying to adjust to the overpowering glare of so many television screens in one room.Hudson laughs as he steps behind me. "Ridge taught me you can never have too many cameras.""Well, you definitely put his words into practice." No less than thirty flat screen TVs line a wall in the room Finn and Hudson started calling the war room. I'm pretty sure Finn has a camera everywhere Aspen may go in San Francisco. There is even one in the comic shop. The transition has gone well for the most part. Finn and Aspen had a heated debate over her bodyguard situation.Once Hudson accepted the position, he didn't waste time. It's been less than three weeks and he has a war room set up and is spying on half the residents of the city. My man gets shit done."Are you happy?" I ask turning around so we are face to face.Hudson rolls his eyes and says something silently to the ceiling of the room. He's recently taken up pr
The glass automatic door at the airport entrance slides open and I saunter in with a purpose. No woman has ever been as determined as I am to put a man in his place. Full Marissa style.And then maybe win him back. It depends on his response. I've been through tons of shit the last few weeks. I need someone who can handle me and won't chicken out.Aspen and Finn checked me out of the hospital and then took me back to my apartment making me promise I wouldn't leave when I asked to be alone. My mother even listened when I told her it was a great time to visit my brother in Washington. He'll love it.Besides my shattered heart, I'm medically fine. There's no reason for people to be stuck hovering around me. Hurt or not, I've still peopled too much these last few days, so it wasn't hard to press that I needed quiet time. I promised to head right into bed and sleep for a few more days.But I've broken many promises lately. And kept secrets. I am not the same girl I was last year. An
I hate to be a bad friend — who am I kidding, I'm always the bad friend — but Aspen could not have picked a worse time to make her visit. And I love her. She was here all day yesterday. Getting water, refilling water, fluffing my pillow and accidentally pulling on my IV before doing it again while apologizing for pulling on the IV. Hudson and I haven't had two minutes to ourselves. I tried to fake sleep yesterday afternoon, but then they stood around the bed looking and me and whispering."Do you need your pillow fluffed?" she asks for the thousandth time. It's become her filler question. What she asks me if she doesn't know what else to ask.I shake my head, giving Finn my best "calm her down" look, but he doesn't notice. He's so madly in love with Aspen he thinks everything she does is adorable. "I'm fine, Aspen. Relax."My best friend is definitely more put together than Hudson in the last two days, but not by much. Her hair is flat on one side, a little curly on the other, an
A STEADY STREAM of beeps wakes me up to a stream of light.A hospital. It's the place I've woken up the last two days. I can't complain. It's one hundred times better than a concrete floor in an abandoned factory in Oakland. Even still I fight the panic as my brain comes into consciousness. The hospital therapist says eventually there will come a day when I don't wake up ready to flee, but I'm not sure I believe her.My awake body is heavy and sluggish. Yesterday I spent most the day sleeping as my conscious mind worked around what happened after I was taken from the sidewalk in front of Cosmo's.Hudson was shot. I watched it with my own eyes. What I didn't know at the time was the bullet grazed the side of his body and most of his injury was due to the shock of being shot. Even though my mind didn't want to believe it at the time, he led the charge to rescue me. And yes, he absolutely shot Jimmy in the head — a scene I never ever want to see again, but one that plays on repeat e
Breathe. I hit reality with a start. Tears form as I blink my eyes to open them. My shoulder hurts, a tingling stiff sensation like I slept on it wrong. At one point I must have broken out in a cold sweat and my skin is clammy, moist yet chilled. My knuckle scrapes the hard ground underneath my body as I sit up and the events of what happened flood back. It wasn't a bad dream. I've been taken right from the front of Cosmo's. Kidnapped.They shot Hudson.I have no idea how long I slept or where I am. No longer in the van, the room is dark around me and it takes longer than I want for my eyes to adjust. Of course, there's no positive to be found when they do. Sawdust and dirt smells permeate the air. On the ground there's not only cold hard concrete but sharp pieces of wood. I wipe a few from my pants legs only to have them stick to the skin of my fingers.As I try to stand, there's a clink of metal. I tug my foot to find it doesn't move. My leg is bolted to the ground with thick m
"Are you sure you won't walk in there and start crying?" Hudson asks as we stop in front of Cosmo's Comics and Café.I take a deep breath and check myself before I answer because frankly he's probably right to be worried. It's been two days since we met with Drew at the restaurant in Oakland and I spent most of that night crying. I haven't talked to anyone since then. More than likely they think I've been taking this time to apologize to Hudson. He promises he's forgiven and forgotten and even understands why it took so long.Hudson spent the last few days consoling me as I came to terms with finally admitting what happened that night and saying goodbye to Drew if only in my own mind. He's been perfect. He didn't push or yell at me to do it faster or tell me I was being ridiculous. He listened and held me when I needed him. I couldn't ask for a better man.Hudson is everything I've ever wanted in a guy. Sensitive enough to figure out when I'm hurting, but strong enough to tell me
"That's your answer?" Hudson's eyebrows lift.I hit my knee against his. "Hudson."He sighs in agitation."Well, Drew, the way I look at it Amanda doesn't have much to tell. It sounds to me as if in her story you were a friend who was there to help her out. Who didn't want to get involved in a police investigation. But before I can trust her opinion that you're a nice guy, I need proof."Drew laughs even though it's inappropriate for the time. "I don't think I'm a nice guy, but thanks, Amanda.""Um, you're welcome?""I started working construction jobs part time when Clare and I were in foster care." He stops talking right as the story gets good."But you don't do construction work now, do you?" Hudson asks the exact question I've been thinking.It's like pulling teeth to get facts out of Drew, but what he doesn't understand is Hudson will have no qualms telling Ben if he's not satisfied with his answers."Yes and no. From time to time my boss asks me for extra favors
"Sorry, Dean, I've got to get home. Lots of Christmas prep to do."There's no time to chase another raid with so much work to do for Aspen's Christmas celebration. They overdo it for most holidays, but the big ones are the worst.He nods, accepting the answer. I rarely take him up on offers for more raiding or the hundred times he's asked me out for coffee. "Okay, see you next time." He waves, following a large group of people making their way to cars and bikes before heading toward the wharf.I step onto the sidewalk outside the baseball stadium to look for a cab. The road is eerily quiet since there isn't baseball in December and the people from the raid snatched up the cabs. Even though Grant, Clare's boyfriend would kill me, I scroll through my phone and find the Uber app. If I have to call for a ride anyway, I should at least make it a cheap one. He'd be pissed over how close I am to his neighborhood without someone here with me, but it's too late to worry about that now.