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“Hmm, sure. Okay, whatever you say. I won’t touch your friends. Good night.”
“Good night, Zoe bear.”
“Don’t call me that,” I utter before closing the door and locking it.
I lean against the wood, unable to stop myself from running a mental list of the recent events in my life.
Let’s face it, things could be a lot worse than they are right now.
At least I am safe and situated with my brother. I still have a job to go to—a shitty one, but it’s better than nothing. Maybe I’ll change my career once I’m settled. I can focus on a new goal while residing in The City of Dreams, as they call it. This might be my chance at a fresh start. It’s the perfect time to let everything roll off my shoulders and pray to whatever god there is that I don’t repeat the same mistakes twice.
This is just another lesson learned.
Maybe moving here will finally be the push I need to get my life in order and pursue dreams I haven’t dared to think about. Just maybe… Or maybe this will be another disappointment.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The loud banging and someone fiddling with the doorknob startles me awake, making my heart leap into my throat.
What the actual hell?
Glancing over at the digital clock on my nightstand, I blink several times to make sure I’m seeing the time correctly. Two forty-five in the morning.
Knock. Knock.
Thud.
I hear a deep sigh outside my door before annoyance propels me out of the cozy warmth of my covers.
Day one and I already have to deal with my brother’s drunk friends. Fantastic.
Being woken up in the middle of the night is a surefire way to get on my shit list, so someone better be bleeding or tending to broken bones out there.
Just as I'm about to reach the door, another series of knocks, this time gentler, force me to pause.
“Zoe,” a deep whisper.
Channeling all my frustrations into my wrist, I unlock and swing the door open, but before I can even organize my thoughts, a towering body moves toward me, falling to the ground. I tried to move out of the way, but not fast enough, as a hard shoulder comes down onto my toes.
“Motherfucker!” I curse, clutching my foot while hopping on the other leg.
Dominik lies on the ground with his eyes closed, his back flat against the hardwood floor as if he’s just taking a midnight nap.
He better be fucking dead.
“What the actual fuck, Dom?!”
He groans, eyes fluttering as he inhales before further melting into the floor. The scent of hard liquor fills the air.
“How much did you drink?”
It must take a lot of booze for a guy his size to go down like a log. I wonder why he even decided to show up at my room tonight.
Then again, maybe this is his usual crash pad. But you know what? At this point, it doesn’t really matter. He can’t sleep on my floor.
Didn’t he call my name a second ago?
A loose wave of onyx drapes across his forehead. His dark lashes kiss the edge of his high cheekbones, and I can’t help but notice how peaceful he looks in this moment. Completely unaware of his surroundings. For a split second, the thought of capturing a photo of the hotshot hockey star sprawled out on my bedroom floor in a drunken stupor flashes through my mind. It could be useful later or even make me go viral online. After all, I could use some shopping money.
