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Huh?
“Thanks, sweetie,” Becky blurts when Jace finally gets the candy bag, then watches him until he disappears into his room.
She turns to meet my eyes in surprise with a did-you-just-see-that look.
“Your nerdy roommate is tattooed. How about that?” Becky whispers like she just discovered a secret when she comes back to the couch. “I mean, every mouse these days gets inked, but his were in color and solid all the way. And not the amateur stuff.”
I’m intrigued. “Army?” And because my creative brain never rests, it’s already spinning the info for my new book.
“Ask him to show you his tattoos sometime,” Tito says. “You can tell a lot about a man by the tattoos he has.”
They eventually drag me to my room to see the gothic portrait I’m working on. But their voices drown in my thoughts that are all about my roommate. With tattoos. And glasses. And kind eyes that occasionally pause on mine with an intensity that makes me burn from the inside.
I don’t know what draws me to Jace. I barely know him. But he has stories. I feel it. I see it in his eyes. I want to know them all.
And when Becky and Tito leave, I put an empty canvas on the easel and paint Jace’s eyes.
10
JACE
They call her Lu.So in my mind, I call her Lu, too. A week later, I know quite a bit about her.
She is obsessed with Eastern European food. She almost never takes a cab because she wants to save money. Fridays and Saturdays are going out nights while weeknights are for galleries and work. Her favorite movie isKnockin’ on Heaven’s Door, the German one, which I’ve yet to see. Her favorite food is anything pickled. She loves colors and constantly listens to music.
A lot of this info comes from hearing her loud conversations on the phone as she paints all through the day, often late into the night.
Lu is a sweetheart. Also a workaholic, a ray of sunshine, a late sleeper, a coffee drinker, a walking mess at home, but also a bombshell in outrageous outfits and scandalously high heels when she goes out. She is friendly, considerate, and talented.
Okay, so I might’ve gotten carried away. But Lu is simply delightful.
And she makes me hella self-aware.
This is a new world for me—bright colors, sweet scents, and a merry-go-round attitude. The last year was the happiest in my life—having a job I love, friends, Roey, and living five minutes from the beach in sunny California, thousands of miles away from the dusty military camps I’m used to and an eternity from the loneliness of growing up in a group home.
And then Lu came into my life, and the world suddenly acquired so many colors and sounds that I can’t help staring around, trying to process them all.
Lu is open and good-hearted.
Her friends, on the other hand, are protective and invasive.
There’s Becky, who during our first acquaintance, studied me scrupulously like I was a felon. Becky-type girls are why I stick to my ‘voluntary celibacy,’ as Roey calls it. She reminds me of Monica, my high school crush and a traitor.
Then there’s Tito, who dresses like a suburban GQ—loafers, colorful pants, and cashmere V-necks, and has a habit of drumming his fingers on his thigh. He loves Sam Smith and Pino Grigio, and, judging by the way his gaze slithered over my body, he was trying to figure out whether he had a chance with me.
Wrong door, buddy.
I still can’t believe this is my life, at Goldsling Towers, though it’s only been a week.
The weather is warming up, and suddenly it’s too hot in the condo. I feel like I’m sweating all the time, but I don’t want to wear short sleeves and expose my body in front of Lu to avoid any questions. And I keep those damn glasses on, annoyed and feeling like a scammer.
It’s hard to keep a distance when Lu is so touchy-touchy with people and with me when I’m around. Her touch is distracting and the heat that goes through my body every time we randomly bump into each other here and there is killing me every day.
I get home one day to hear the music blasting from Lu’s room. Her head pops out of her room as if she’s been waiting for me, and right away there’s a grin on her face.
“Hey.” I smile, taking off my shoes, my heart fluttering at the sight of her. “How’s the art going?”
She lights up. “Wanna see?”
