Page 10 of The Knotheads Next Door
Jasper makes a sound that's halfway between a scoff and a growl. "Speaking of rules. This arrangement is temporary. 3 months. Not a day longer."
Rowan's expression hardens slightly, the exhaustion in her eyes giving way to something steelier. "Understood."
"Rent is due on the first," Jasper continues, as if reciting from a manual titled 'How to Be Maximally Unwelcoming.' "No overnight guests without advance notice. No parties. Kitchen duty rotates weekly. And common areas remain scent neutral."
"Scent neutral," she repeats. "As in...?"
"Blockers in shared spaces," he says flatly. "I don't care what you do in your own room, but I don't want the house smelling like—" He cuts himself off, but the implication is clear.
"Like me?" Rowan finishes, her voice deceptively light, though I can see her knuckles whitening around the strap of her backpack.
An uncomfortable silence stretches between them.
"Like anyone other than who lives here," Jasper finally says. "It's a security thing."
It's a lie, and we all know it, but Rowan just nods. "Right. Well, good news is I'm a big fan of personal space and boundaries myself, so that works just fine."
She turns to me with a forced brightness. "So, that room?"
"Right this way," I say quickly, picking up her box again and heading for the stairs. As we climb, I hear Wells's quiet but unmistakable "Was that necessary?" directed at Jasper, followed by a muttered response I can't quite make out.
On the second floor, I lead Rowan down the hallway, past Jasper's room at the front of the house, past my own in the middle, and past Wells's across from mine. The guest room—her room now—is at the end of the hall.
"Bathroom's here," I point out as we pass it. "We share, because the ensuites are out of commission. But Wells has a very detailed shower schedule posted on the inside of the door. He's a bit... particular."
"Noted," she says, some of the tension leaving her shoulders as we move further from Jasper.
I push open the door to her room. It's not huge, but it gets good afternoon light, and Jasper rebuilt the window seat last spring, adding storage underneath. The walls are a soft blue-gray that Wells chose because it's "scientifically proven to promote calm.
"There's a double bed with fresh linens, a desk under the window, and an empty bookshelf.
"I know it's a bit bare," I say as I set her box on the desk. "But we figured you'd want to make it your own."
Rowan steps inside, dropping her bag on the bed. For a moment, she just stands there, taking it all in. Then she turns to me with a small, genuine smile that transforms her tired face.
"It's perfect," she says softly. "Thank you."
Something protective stirs in my chest—an alpha instinct I usually keep firmly in check. There's a vulnerability about her that triggers it, despite her obvious determination.
"Listen," I say, lowering my voice. "Don't mind Jasper. He's... well, he's complicated. But he's not actually as much of an asshole as he seems. He's just protective of this place."
She nods, absently rubbing her shoulder where the backpack strap has left a mark. "I get it. I'm the intruder here."
"Guest," I correct. "And potentially friend, if you don't turn out to be secretly terrible."
That earns me another small smile. "I save my terribleness for special occasions. Like Tuesdays."
"I'll mark my calendar," I reply, matching her lighter tone. "I'll let you get settled. Bathroom's stocked with the basics if you need anything. And we usually do pizza on Friday nights if you want to join."
"Thanks," she says, and then adds, more softly, "Really."
I hesitate at the door, that strange note in her scent nagging at me again. There's something she's not telling us—something beyond the usual new-roommate awkwardness. But it's not my place to pry, at least not yet.
"Welcome to Vineyard Groves, Rowan," I say instead.
As I close the door behind me, I hear the bed creak as she sits down. Then, very faintly, what sounds like a deep, shuddering breath.
Whatever she's running from, whatever she's not telling us, I have a feeling our peaceful, predictable life just got a lot more complicated.
