Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

JANE

" W hat do you mean, you're leaving?" I snap.

"I get that you're mad, Jane, but?—"

"Mad? Mad ? Of course I'm mad. Why wouldn't I be mad?"

Gaby drops her head, playing with one of her long red braids. "And I understand, but this was an opportunity I couldn't miss. Jobs like this don't fall into my lap every day."

"No, I know that." I nibble on my lower lip, clenching my fists to keep my hands from shaking, and glare at my roommate. "I'm happy for you. Really, I am. But you can't leave in the middle of the month without warning. How am I supposed to cover next month's rent? How will I even find a roommate?"

"I'll give you the money for next month." Gaby rubs my arm and offers me a lopsided grin. "And you don't need to find a roommate. I found you one."

My forehead creases, but Gaby's smile, and resulting dimples, charm their way into my heart.

"Don't you dare pull that trick on me," I say, darting my gaze away.

She reaches for my hand, but I tug it back to my lap.

"Come on, sweetie." She bats her eyelashes, her gorgeous hazel eyes round like saucers. "Don't be mad. Pweeease ."

Her pleading voice cracks my frustration, but I refuse to give in so easily this time around.

"Don't do that, Gaby. I'm pissed. This is a big deal."

"I know and I'm really, really sorry."

I cross the living room to stare out the window at the park five floors below. "Will I at least get to come visit you in Greece?"

"Absolutely! We'll go out for ouzo and meet some…" She stops, pulling out her phone, her thumbs flying across the screen. " Kaftés ántres ."

"What does that mean?"

"Hot men."

We both laugh and my shoulders loosen. "Well, you'll need to work on that accent or those ántres won't reciprocate."

I sit on the window ledge, tucking a large, blue cushion into my lap. Gaby joins me, the sun turning her eyes golden and bringing out light freckles that dot her cheeks beautifully. Unlike hers, my freckles don't make me prettier, they only overpower my too-long face.

"So, who's this roommate you've found? Is she a friend?"

Gaby's eyes stay focused on the delivery truck on the street below and her brow sinks. She bites the inside of her cheek before answering. "They're a friend, yes."

My stomach drops. "Gaby…"

"His name is Joe Miller. He's Will's friend."

"Him being your brother's friend isn't a plus." I shake my head, crossing my arms.

"Okay, I agree, but don't worry. I've known Joe for a while. He just broke up with his girlfriend and Will said he needs a place to stay while he gets his shit together. I figured it would be the perfect fit."

I cock my head and sigh. "I'm not seeing what makes this perfect."

"He's responsible and works hard, gets paid well. He's clean and housebroken," she kids, nudging my shoulder. "And he also happens to be super cute."

And there it is—Gaby's weekly attempt at ripping me from my enjoyable singledom. She's been a perpetual matchmaker since we've met, even when her matches have failed miserably every time.

I throw out my hands. "I don't care what he looks like. He's a he ."

"And? What do you have against men?"

"I have nothing against men in particular, but men as roommates are a hard limit. They're gross, and loud, and they bring their dates home… Is he straight?"

"He is." She winks, clearly misunderstanding me, and her smile widens.

"That's even worse. No. Sorry. This isn't happening." I shake my head, tucking my lips. "I refuse to have a roommate who brings women home and…"

I grimace, waving a hand around the apartment, imagining Joe having sex all over my red couch and distressed Papasan chair. I tilt my head, trying to imagine the logistics of someone having sex in the cushy, nest-shaped chair. Gaby follows my line of sight as if trying to figure out what I'm picturing.

"He's harmless," she says. "And we've had dates over. It didn't bother you then."

I purse my lips, glaring at her and she understands.

"Sorry. How many times have I had dates over and it never bugged you?"

Whereas Gaby's dating life has been active, to say the least, mine has been virtually non-existent. We've shared this apartment since college, but in those six years, I've had one serious boyfriend, which only lasted six months. Strangely, this seems to bug her more than me, but I'm fine with not having someone to share my life, and bed, with.

Totally fine with it.

Absolutely A-okay with being a constant spinster.

Gaby shakes my knee, bringing me back to our conversation.

"Please say yes," she insists, her hands in prayer. "I promise it'll be okay, and like you said, you don't have a lot of time to find a new roommate, do you?"

"And whose fault is that?"

"True, but that's why you should be happy I've taken care of it. It's lined up and ready to go. There's nothing you need to do."

She's trying to appeal to my regimented side, but it's not working. "What if I hate him?"

"Then I'll ask him to leave. There's no way I'd want you to be uncomfortable with the guy. This is to help you ."

My eyes open wide.

"I mean, help you with the apartment. You know, with the rent?" She chuckles, taking my hand.

"Gaby, promise me this isn't some weird hookup thing?"

"Eww, no. I wouldn't do that to you. I promise." She crosses her heart. "But I doubt you'll hate him. Joe's great."

I purse my lips, doubting every word coming out of her mouth, but I shouldn't. Gaby's my best friend and has never lied to me. So, maybe I should be more open-minded.

At the very least, I can meet the guy before passing judgment. He might not be so bad.

JOE

The day starts off as one of those rare summer days when the city is charming and not sweltering, but I can smell the humidity in the air, inviting rain later.

Being a punctual person, I make it to the apartment building early and instead of sitting in my car, I decide to walk around the block to check out the neighborhood.

Gabrielle, Will's younger sister, showed me pictures of the apartment a week ago, and when I heard how cheap the rent was, I agreed to move in almost immediately, but nothing is set in stone until I see it in person.

There's a gym nearby, a grocery store and even some nice restaurants. Plus, the sublet is only a few blocks from my work. Closer than where I live now. It's near a busy street, but far enough that it won't be too noisy. So far, I'm not finding any cons.

I head back and round the corner in time to see a woman with wildly curly brown hair, fighting with the suddenly mischievous gust of wind that swoops down. The blood-orange bohemian-style dress she's wearing looks a size too big and blows up, revealing nice, toned legs. She's so busy brushing the hair from her face, she doesn't see the fire hydrant she's about to walk into.

I cringe as I yell, "Watch out!"

" Shiit ," she shouts, smashing into the hydrant. Her grocery bag falls to the ground, spilling its contents everywhere.

She hunches over, gripping her calf and without thinking, I spring into action, rushing to her side.

"Are you all right?" I ask, crouching to her level, noticing her brown Birkenstocks, but also a small silver toe ring and anklet that sparks something in my blood.

She glares at me, her bright green eyes fringed with long, dark lashes. Her button nose is sprinkled with cute freckles and her creamy cheeks seem permanently stained with a pink blush.

She grumbles something under her breath, gathering her spilled groceries. "I'm fine. Thanks."

"You sure?" I hand her a box of tampons she quickly snatches away. "You hit that thing pretty hard."

The red gash on her leg disappears beneath her skirt when she stands up. "I said I'm fine."

She walks to the door of the building and I realize it's the same place I'm heading to.

When she unlocks the door, I hold it open and her guarded glare cuts through me like a knife.

"After you," I say with a smile, but she only shakes her head.

I follow behind, and can tell she's nervous. She slips a key between the fingers of her right hand, the same way they teach women to do in self-defense classes.

Biting back my laugh, I give her some room and stay a few steps behind her as we walk up the stairs. Trying to look anywhere but at her round ass, I pull out my phone and double check the email. Apartment 5B. Fifth floor. In a building without an elevator. Great .

At each landing, she pauses for a fraction of a second, as if hoping I'll stop following her. And each time I don't, she releases an audible huff.

We reach the fifth floor. I stop and look around at the apartment numbers, but she turns left and heads down the hallway.

By the time she's unlocking her door, I'm right behind her, shaking my head.

"Listen, buddy," she says over her shoulder, "I know five different ways to kill you and trust me, you won't like any of them."

She spins around, holding the key up menacingly.

"Woah, relax." I raise my hands in surrender, partly amused, partly terrified. "Are you Jane Donati?"

Her frown deepens. "What's it to you?"

I smile, holding a hand over my heart. "I'm Joseph Miller."

"You are?"

She's still holding the key up like a dagger and I gently place a hand on her wrist, lowering her weapon.

"Do you mind? You're making me nervous."

"Interesting," she says, pulling her hand away.

"What is?"

"You're early."

She steps into the apartment, holding the door open for me.

"Is that a bad thing?" I ask, following her inside.

"Normally, no. But today, yes."

She leaves the door wide open. I guess she doesn't trust me even a little.

"So, this is the place." She disappears into the small kitchen and settles her groceries on the counter, then returns. "I'll show you around."

Original pine wood floors run through the apartment, intricately detailed moldings frame every room and the unobstructed view of the park across the street is outstanding. She points to every piece of furniture, telling me which ones she's willing to share and which ones are strictly off-limits.

"This cost me a fortune," she says, pointing to the extra-large red couch. "You can sit in it, but any damage will mean automatic eviction. Got it?"

"Got it." I nod and notice the way her eyes linger on my lips for a few seconds.

She clears her throat. "Still interested?"

"Sure, it'll do."

"Great," she deadpans, then reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a small stack of paperwork. "Here's the lease." She places it on the coffee table along with a pen. "And this is just a little something extra."

I sit and read the lease, signing where I'm supposed to, then look over the double-sided ‘something extra' and frown.

"Are these your… rules?"

She crosses her arms tightly. "Not rules . Just the way I like things."

Focused on checking my signatures on the lease, she doesn't see my eye roll, but I take a breath and remind myself the rent is half what I pay for my current shit-hole. There is no way I can turn this place down, even if Jane seems a bit insane.

"Welcome, Joseph." She hands me the keys and I laugh at the Fuck The PatriarKey keychain that comes with them.

"Thanks, roomie," I say, feeling a strange mix of irritation and amusement. I reach a hand out. "And you can call me Joe, by the way."

She purses her lips, but doesn't shake my hand. "We'll see."

The feeling that living with Jane is going to be a rollercoaster ride settles on my shoulders when I leave, and she shuts the door behind me.

But hey, at least living with her won't be boring.