Page 10 of Rookie Season
CHAPTER 5
ALLEGRA
This apartment is insane.
Insane.
In fact, apartment isn’t even the correct word to describe this place. I stand in the doorway to Fisher’s place, Harry in my arms, as we take it all in. It’s a modern, industrial loft—fully open floor plan with double high, exposed ceilings and huge picture windows with gorgeous views of the city. Beautiful, classy modern art hangs on the red brick walls, and warm, cozy textures abound throughout.
“Woah,” I breathe aloud. It’s a far cry from the off-campus housing I’ve just moved out of—a small corner room in a crumbling three story with plumbing issues.
Originally, I was meant to spend my junior year this year sharing a sleek townhouse with four of my friends I’d been close with since we all met at freshman year orientation. We had it planned for months—had even all pitched in to buy patio furniture and endless fairy lights for the cute postage-stamp sized yard so we could throw parties there.
But then, the day before the semester started, I couldsuddenly no longer access our group chat. Thinking there’d been a mistake, I messaged the girls individually.
No response all round—except a clipped message from Nina, the bossiest of our group, letting me know my room had been filled by someone else, and I needed to find alternate housing arrangements.
Then she blocked me before I could ask what was going on.
At first, I couldn’t understand what on earth had happened. But as I walked through campus on the first day of classes, enough whispers and stares followed me that I knew whatever it was, it was bad.
I hadn’t even seen the Instagram posts at that point.
“Screw them,” I mutter. I’m three thousand miles away from all of those lies now, and I need to free my mind of it if I’m ever going to move forward.
A sudden wave of exhaustion crashes over me. I’m glad to have the evening here to myself, and with one more appreciative glance around the loft, I set Harry down. “Home sweet home.”
He immediately takes off like a bat out of hell, a streak of black and gray as he runs through the living area and veers off left down a hallway.
“Harry, wait!” I call, chasing him. I don’t want him to find a random open window and make a run for it.
I race down the hallway to the right, half noting the trail of discarded clothing on the floor—undoubtedly from a messy boy who got ready in a hurry to hit up that bar tonight—as I skid through an open door…
And through a billow of steam and a crescendo of spa music, I’m greeted by the sight of a bare-assed man in the shower.
A very, very muscular ass, I might add. But honestly,that’s the last thing on my mind as I stare through the glass shower door in horror.
“Aghh!” I choke out, stepping backwards and immediately tripping over Harry, who’s now circling around my legs. I move to the side, and Harry hisses, alerting me that I’m stepping on his tail. I jump, which of course sends me stumbling into a laundry hamper.
“What the hell?!” The man’s voice is equally choked as he whirls around to stare at me sprawled over the laundry hamper like a wet towel. He clasps his hands around his…er…junk, and when our eyes meet, I almost fall over again.
Because the naked man in the shower is Mr. Anderson.
Paige’s dad.
And he—quite understandably—looks mad as all hell right now as recognition settles over his handsome features.
“You!” he exclaims, his eyes so wide, this would almost be comical if it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing in the world.
My instinct tells me to get the hell out of here, but my feet feel frozen to the spot. I look up at the ceiling so I can avoid any further eye contact with his very naked, very wet, and very hot and muscular body.
“Do you mind?” he demands, and my eyes fly back to meet his. Which is a big mistake, because I can’t help but notice how pretty his eyes are—long dark lashes framing coffee-with-a-splash-of-cream irises. And what is wrong with me? This guy is an asshole,andhe’s married to Paige’s mom.
“Mind what?” I ask, my mind in a total daze.
His expression turns almost pleading as he tilts his head towards the door and says, “Can you please just get out of here so I can get a towel and cover up?”
Oh.
