The old woman slightly tilted her head and gave him her signature narrow-eyed look, where one of her eyes always narrowed more than the other one, making her look anything but serious. “How long have you two been together?”
Dylan seemed to ignore the wonky-eyed expression; again, points for him. The first time I’d seen her do it, I’d barely kept in my snort.
“It’s been two years.”
“See, Miss Clarke. See? Maybe you can learn something from your roommate.”
I let out a long breath through my nose and managed to keep the smile on my face. “I know. I’ll make sure to ask him for tips. Have a good even—”
“Mr. Reed, your roommate has the worst taste in men. Please teach her a thing or two, ‘cause it looks like nothing I’m saying is getting through to her.”
You can’t close the door on her face, Zoe. You absolutely cannot close the door on an old lady’s face.
“Please call me Dylan, and I will definitely try my best to teach her a few things. I agree with you—she should be with someone better. I’ll make her see reason, don’t worry.”
“Good.” She gave me one last glance and started to close the door, only to stop halfway. “You know what Dylan? I like you. It’s a shame you like boys, as Miss Clarke could’ve used a nice strong boy like yourself.”
Anyone up there? God? You can kill me now.
Turning to me, she continued, “I like him. Be nice to this one.”
I gritted my teeth. “Okay then.” Remembering my arm was still wrapped up with Dylan’s, I untangled myself as we finally turned toward our own apartment.
“Mr. Reed?”
Ah…just when we were so close to freedom.
I felt Dylan pause and turn back, but I just kept going. I already knew she was gonna bestow a chore on him, and I had no interest whatsoever in letting her pull me into it, too.
Unlocking the door, I went inside. After making sure to leave it ajar for Dylan, I walked into the living room and just collapsed on the couch. Pulling my crossbody bag away, I flung it somewhere over my shoulder. The door closed with a quiet click in time with me covering my face with my hands.
There was a loud thud followed by footsteps and then nothing. I could already feel him standing over me so I shouldn’t have felt the urge to look up to see the expression on his face, but just to make sure, I peeked through my fingers and…yup, he was right there, those big strong arms crossed over his chest, an eyebrow raised…waiting. I should’ve gone straight to my room.
“Hello to you, too, Zoe,” he said when he realized nothing was coming out of my mouth.
I groaned and hid my face again.
“Care to tell me what just happened?”
I sort of snorted and then couldn’t keep it in any longer. First, my shoulders started shaking, then my quiet, private laughter grew louder. When I had it under control and my laughs had pretty much died down to snickers, I chanced another look at him.
Thank God he had a big grin on his face; it helped me feel like less of a fool.
I dropped my head back and stared at the ceiling. “You’re not angry at me, are you? I’m really hoping that smile on your face means you’re amused and not psychotic.”
Feeling big hands curl around my ankles made me sit straight up with the unexpectedness of it. Not affected by my little jump, Dylan gently set my feet down and sat right next to me, in the middle of the couch. I scooted back a few inches more until my back hit the armrest and there was a little more space between us, more room to breathe—hopefully.
“I’m not sure. I’ll decide after you tell me what happened back there.”
“I know you said you hate liars last night, but this doesn’t count, okay? You shouldn’t hate your roommate.” Clearing my throat, I gave him something between a smile and a grimace. “She is the landlord and the only person over twenty-five living in this building. She is nosy as hell. I swear to you she knows everything that goes on. She’d already talked my ear off before I bumped into you, which is why I bumped into you, really, because I was trying to get away, and she thought I was being a slut and was basically trying to save me from myself. It’s not that I care, but again, she is nosy as hell, and once she gets going, it turns into an interrogation, but what am I supposed to do? She’s old, so I can’t snap at her. I had to tell her something.”
Dylan stretched his arm across the back of the couch and leaned just a little bit forward, causing me to lean back—just in case.