Page 5 of Married As Puck
"What choice do I have? I can’t afford to lose my deposit, and finding another place would take months."
Julia sighs. "Just... be careful, okay? You don’t know anything about this guy."
"I know he makes good coffee and owns way too many protein shakers." I pause, remembering the look on his face during that phone call. "And I think he’s in some kind of trouble."
"All the more reason to keep your distance."
"I will. It’s just temporary."
But as I hang up and settle into bed, I can’t shake the feeling that nothing about this situation is going to be as simple as we both want it to be.
3
I reach blindly for my alarm clock on the nightstand and turn it off. The pounding in my head makes opening my eyes feel like an arduous task. Not the good kind of pounding either, not the whiskey haze or the kind of hangover that comes with a few blurry laughs you almost don’t regret, but the other kind from pure mental exhaustion.
My muscles feel like they’ve been run over by a truck. I force my eyes open and shut them again, momentarily blinded by the morning light even though it’s not that bright.
The events of the previous day are hazy in my head, all except for the news of that fight with Jack. It keeps replaying in my head like a damn highlight reel. Even before I could get some sleep last night, it was with Jack’s smug face in my mind.
That’s him. He’s the one responsible.
And he looks like a gentleman, who would’ve thought he’s capable of something that cruel?
I’m sure this isn’t the first time he’s done something like this.
Those and others flowed into my head, memories of the whispers and murmurs that trailed me in the hospital where Jack ended up after I put him in his place. Their speculations were so unsettling I couldn’t stand another minute there, only to come home and be faced with the media houses replaying it again and again. Even in the hospital, the bastard posed a threat to my sanity. If he was conscious, he would probably be smiling down at me like he was proud of breaking me, like I was the loser again.
Jack Monroe better stay in his lane when he gets out of that hospital, or I swear to God, I’ll send him to his grave the next time.
I roll over and reach out to the nightstand. My fingers connect with the lamp, the half-empty glass, a mess of receipts and scraps but not my object of interest. I rest my weight on one arm and crane my neck to search for it, but the pack of cigarettes seems to have disappeared.
I groan and sit up fully, rubbing my face hard to rid it of any sleep. I check for the bottle of water I usually keep there too but it’s not there either. As I’m trying to collect my thoughts, I hear a loud singing that makes me grind my teeth in frustration.
“It is too fucking early,” I complain.
The high notes echoing through my house sound like something from a fucking musical, and I hate musicals. Her voice pierces straight through my foggy brain, making the headache worse.
This girl has to go. I can’t take this.
She thinks I was supposed to be moving out, and I haven’t mentioned that I’m still on a fucking lease myself, and NellyKane is full of shit. A scam artist landlord. I can’t believe this bullshit, but maybe this is a sign that I need to move. If I just lost everything, there’s no reason for me to stay.
This apartment is supposed to be my safe haven, and her presence has already desecrated it. But I still have to salvage what’s left of it because it’s the only one I’ve got for now, until I get the press off my back.
I swing my legs off the bed and wince at the full ache in my joints. I don’t bother throwing on a shirt to make her comfortable. It’s my house, so if she wants to be comfortable, she can find another place. My feet hit the floor, and I sense the cold seep in. I shove my feet into flip-flops and march down the hall.
Mornings are mine. It’s the time of the day when I reflect, when I sit with my thoughts before the buzz of everything else. And now she’s here.
She’s in my kitchen with her back turned, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. Whistling now, swinging that long auburn hair that’s tied up in a sloppy ponytail. The oversized Hello Kitty T-shirt slips off one shoulder and she keeps tugging it back up. She looks too comfortable. Like she’s a permanent fixture in my life. Something about that makes me nervous.
My eyes drag over her, against my will. They linger on her long flawless legs and toenails painted red. I revert my attention back to her head. That’s why I came out here anyway, to put an end to this.
She whirls around, spatula in hand and flashes a blinding grin at me. “Morning, roomie!”
The chirp in her tone makes me wince. She points the spatula on the options on the kitchen counter. “Coffee first or water?”
I freeze for a minute feeling my chest tighten. Then I grind my teeth until my jaw aches. She’s still staring at me expectantly, waiting for my response. She’s not bothered by my half-nakedness, and that pisses me off.
“Neither. You’re leaving and finding a new place.”
