Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I check my phone and stifle a groan. “An hour.”
“Go, get out of here. I’m making lasagna tonight. I’ll bring you some leftovers.”
“No, Tabs, don’t do that, we’re fine.”
“Gem’ll eat it if you don’t. Get some sleep.” Tabby waves, vape in her mouth, and shuts her door behind her.
I step back inside and pause on the threshold.
A new owner. Fuck me straight in the face. This is the last thing I need. My life’s balanced on the edge already, and one small change could send me teetering into straight-up poverty. I pretend like I don’t want Tabby to go to the trouble, but her occasional leftovers seriously keep me and Gem going. If I lose my amazing neighbors and we have to move further away from Gem’s school, now her commute is even worse—
I’m spiraling. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. I have fifty-five minutes before I need to leave, which means a solid forty-five-minute nap at best.
Keep it together. Don’t mess this up. Gem will graduate soon, and things will be okay.
Just keep it together.
The rumors are wild, but even Mina doesn’t know anything, and she’s just about the nosiest busybody I’ve ever met in my life. The old owner, Mr. Lambert, won’t return anyone’s calls, which makes the mystery so much worse. Over the next few days, I hear that someone’s going to knock the building down, or they’re going to turn it into a nightclub, or they’re putting in a roof deck and a sauna in the basement. It’s all total speculation, and I do my best to focus on what matters.
Getting Gem to school. Getting my butt to work. Buy groceries, clean up, pay bills, make sure Gem’s doing applications. Get a little sleep. Do it all again.
“You’re twenty-three, Kira,” Mina says one morning in the hall. She’s an older Korean lady with just about the nicest smile I’ve ever seen. But that smile’s deceiving. She’d cut my head off if I so much as showed an ounce of disrespect. I like her a lot. “Ever think about having a little fun?”
“I didn’t know you were aware fun existed.”
Mina huffs. “I went out when I was your age. My girlfriends and I tore up the city back in the day.”
“I don’t doubt it.” I grin to myself, picturing a young Mina Park going buck wild in the ‘80s. She was probably beautiful. Honestly, still is. “But you know how things are.”
“Gem would understand. She’s a smart, independent girl. She could handle herself for a night.”
“I appreciate the concern—" More like sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong, which is her natural state. “But honestly, I’m fine.”
“Sure you are, dear, but it’s not too late to live a little.” Mina turns away. “By the way, I heard the new owner is coming to check out the building this morning. Rumor says he’s a young, eligible bachelor.”
“I’m not sure why you’re telling me that last part.”
“Oh, no reason!” She beams and waves as she walks out.
I watch her go. An ugly uncertainty roils in my stomach. Mina’s just trying to tease me, but the prospect of meeting the new owner leaves me deeply unsettled. There are too many variables and uncertainties, and I have to get ready for my shift at the diner. I’m covered in dog hair, stinking like animal shampoo, and practically dead on my feet. Gem gets home late today, thanks to chess club. I don’t have space in my head for anything else.
I spend a few minutes whipping together dinner, mostly for when Gem gets back. She’ll have to heat it up, but she can handle a microwave. I start the shower, lay out my work clothes, and consider injecting a pot of coffee straight into my veins, when there’s a knock at the door.
“Mina, I really don’t have time for gossip,” I call out when the person in the hall bangs again. I grumble to myself and stomp over, annoyed that I’m losing precious time.
When I pull it open, my jaw drops.
This can’t be happening. I stare, trying to make sense of the beautiful stranger standing in front of me. Except I know him, or at least in a way.
It’s Stellan from the diner.
He’s looking at me with that confident, completely easy smile. His head’s tilted to the side and he radiates a strange, masculine energy. His shirt clings to his chest and his pants show off his muscular thighs, and it takes a beat before I realize that I’m checking him out. Which is not something I do. Men are just window dressing to me. They’re mannequins and customers, nothing more.
Except here’s an extremely beautiful man, one who saved my life, suddenly outside my door.
“Are you stalking me?!” I blurt out before I can think better of it.
That’s just about the dumbest thing I could say.