Page 49 of Just My Type of wrong guy

“Welcome to your new home.”

I gesture for Alexandra to come in as I catch her smile. The scent of a freshly cleaned house makes me exhale in relief — Daniele had Rebeca, the cleaner, coming over when I told her I was heading to Brazil.

The infinite window spans the wall facing the Hudson River, and the sunset spills its light over the living room. Alexandra stops in front of it, almost as if she’s facing a piece of art. I walk in, pull the suitcases behind me, and close the door, knowing the impact this view has on unsuspecting visitors.

“Okay, risking sounding a little cocky here, but when you invited me to stay, I definitely didn’t picture your place being this beautiful and...” Alexandra turns her neck toward me with a smile between her teeth, “clean and organized.”

I place a hand over my heart and walk over to her.

“Just because I’m a guy living alone, huh?”

Alex shakes her head and nudges me with her elbow.

“Because you’re apopstarwho lives alone,” she points out, winking like she’s seen more of my hotel rooms than any other girl.

“Fair enough. But hey, do you want to see your room?” I ask, touching one of the suitcases, and Alexandra nods, pulling the other one behind me.

Halfway down the hall, her voice makes me stop.

“These are gorgeous!” Alex says, stunned as she scans the wall behind the couch, where my favorite movies’ posters hang. “I love this one,” she adds, leaning over the cushions to touch theLady and the Trampframe.

“Me too. Funny thing is, I’m not even that into animated movies...”

“Really? Lucky for you, I’m doing you a favor living here. I can teach you all about them,” she jokes, already eyeing the other frames.

“Is this Elvis?” Alexandra pouts, hand to her mouth. She reaches for the poster without even waiting for an answer. “I love this movie.”

“Austin Butler was the hottest man alive as Elvis,” I say, getting lost in his eyeliner again. “I must’ve watched that movie twelve times in one month.”

“Yep, totally. I was obsessed. Anytime I needed comfort, there he was, hip-shaking on my screen,” she laughs. “But, what’s up with the two empty frames?”

“Still haven’t found their movies,” I shrug. “Maybe one of the animated movies you’ll force me to watch...”, I say, my voice dripping with irony.

“Looks like I’ve got three months to make you fall in love withAnastasia.”

I frown, clearly offended.

“That’s a classic. Of course I’ve seen it.”

“IfAnastasiaand Dimitri aren’t on that wall, you haven’t seen enough,” she retorts, sticking out her tongue.

“Let’s check out your room,” I say, grabbing the suitcases.

Walking her down the hall while she takes her time looking at the walls, the guitars by my room and the music posters. She giggles when she sees the Vicious Bonds logo.

“Your place is gorgeous,” she says, eyes locking on the sign that reads “Miss Petulant’s little nook.”

“This is your room,” I say, letting her open the door. Her face drops a bit.

I catch the way her eyes go from lit-up to almost dull, and her face drops a bit.

“You hate it?” I ask, half-joking, half-terrified.

“Of course not, A.J. It’s just... so plain.”

She steps in, looking at the gray walls, white bedding, empty shelves.

“The guest room’s all colorful and full of stuff like the living room. But those are my things and this is your space. I wanted it plain so you could make it yours.”

---