Page 15 of Rival Season
I close my eyes, and turn back toward the elevator, but the door to 3B opens and the pretty female roommate stands there. I think she’s dating the broody, quiet hockey player; I always see them together. Her blonde hair is damp, like she just showered, and she’s wearing leggings and a hoodie that’s way too big for her. I bet it’s the quiet guy’s hoodie…just like I used to wear Chadwick’s.
“Hey! Hazel, right? From downstairs?” I must look confused that she knows my name, because she immediately clarifies. “Penn told me your name. I’m assuming you’re here to see him? Come on in.” The blonde waves her hand in a gesture for me to enter.
Penn was talking about me?
My legs move of their own volition into the loft apartment, and I look around the industrial space. Their apartment is way bigger than mine, with high ceilings, exposed brick walls, and two hallways that probably lead to the bedrooms. I realize this is the first time I’ve actually been inside and not just out in the hallway demanding that Playboy and his friends be more quiet.
“Have a seat. Penn’s not here yet but he’ll be home soon from practice.”
She’s so unexpectedly, genuinely nice that I listen and take a seat at the large kitchen island.
“I’m Ally,” she says, opening the fridge. “Do you want Coke Zero, or a probiotic soda?”
“Um, a Coke Zero. Please,” I answer, and she grabs one from the fridge and tosses it to me.
Surprisingly, I catch it, and it doesn’t hit me in the face.
She removes another soda and pops it open with a crackle as she comes to sit on the barstool beside me. She tilts her head and studies me for a moment before asking, “Are you okay, Hazel?”
I blow out a breath and shake my head from side to side. “I don’t even know,” I answer, wondering why I’m still even here. But for some reason—probably her kindness combined with the fact that I’ve had nobody to talk to since the breakup—the words continue to spill from my mouth, “My cheating ex just showed up to my apartment with enough luggage to stay for a month.”
Her eyes widen. “Yikes. I’m sorry, that sucks. Can’t you just kick him out?”
I groan. “It’s his aunt and uncle’s place; I’m just house sitting. I’m a PhD student; it’s not like I could afford anything this nice on my own.”
Ally frowns, placing a hand on my shoulder. It’s so comforting that I feel my eyes burn hot with tears. I sniff, blinking the tears away. How embarrassing, sitting here sniffling in front of a complete stranger—especially one who looks about the same age as my younger brother. How on earth did my life suddenly become this unrecognizable mess?
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I came up here.”
I stand to leave, but the door bursts open and three large, noisy men stomp inside. I know from experience that from downstairs, the sound of their entrance is like a herd ofelephants. I know what time these hockey players exit and enter this place every single day.
The blond hockey player spots me first, and grins at me. “Well, hello, welcome to our loft.” He winks.
The shy one waves before he makes his way over to Ally and places a kiss to her cheek.
And Playboy stares at me with a smirk on his face. “Bubbles. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I stare at him, wishing I’d manage to make my escape before he came home. “Uh, I wanted to thank you for the headphones.”
He blinks in surprise. “You’re welcome.”
My gaze drops down to his chest, sculpted and broad beneath the thin fabric of his athletic shirt. His thickly muscled arms are covered in ink, and his legs are as sturdy as tree trunks. Penn Matthews—as superfluous as he might seem—is an intimidating man. An intimidatingandadmittedly good-looking, man who I know my ex-boyfriend can’t stand. Suddenly, an idea pops into my head, and for the first time in days, I feel like I know exactly what I need to do.
“Can we talk?” I ask Penn. I glance at the others—Ally’s forehead scrunches in concern, her boyfriend seems confused, and the blond guy smiles knowingly, like he thinks I’m the latest in Playboy’s parade of females, here for a bedroom date with him.
Penn’s mouth slowly pulls into another smirk. “Anything for my favorite neighbor.”
CHAPTER 7
PENN
In a shocking turn of events…Hazelis in my bedroom.
My original plan for when I got home from practice was to relax before our early flight tomorrow. I was going to starfish on the couch and watch football while Noah whipped up whatever healthy concoction of chicken, rice, and veggies he was planning on cooking for dinner tonight.
Hazel’s visit is a welcome, if surprising, change of plan, but I’m curious as hell what she wants to talk about. I shut my bedroom door to keep potential eavesdroppers (Fisher) from listening in, then turn toward her.
“Soooo…” She starts hesitantly, drawing out the word as she pushes a stray curl out of her face. Her eyes are huge behind her glasses as she looks around the room like she has no idea how she got here.
