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Well, if he’s on social media, he’d find me easily because my face is all over it.
But Uncle disappeared again. I called him when I got home, but his number was disconnected.
Thank god for the hot Dark Knight, Jace Reed.
Renting the extra bedroom to a stranger might’ve been a hasty decision, but it’s too late.
I throw on a pair of sweatpants and a loose T-shirt over a sports bra, then tie my messy hair into a bun on top of my head and practice a friendly yet stern face in the mirror. My new roommate should know that I was out of character last night, but I’ll be a strict landlord.
Landlord, right.
Renting a room that doesn’t belong to me in the first place is shady. But my best friend, Becky, okayed it with the owners.
I try to remember what Jace Reed told me about himself last night. He’s twenty-four, an Ohio native, and currently resides in Costa Mesa, California. Occupation—automotive equipment salesman.
The doorbell rings, and my heartbeat spikes as I trot to the door then pause and take a deep breath.
I am a mess, with no makeup and bed hair, but I didn’t expect Mr. Savior to show up so early. Noon seems like a good time when you are drinking the night before. Your hangover the next day has a different opinion.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
The thought spins in my head, pumping my blood with anxiety as I open the door, and my heart halts at the sight of Jace Reed in my doorway.
Brown hair, close cut, slightly outgrown on the top, handsome face, black-rimmed glasses.
“Hey,” he says softly.
Hey.
I glance at the same black jeans and a hoodie he wore yesterday.
“I’m Jace, remember?” he says hesitantly, his eyes warm and curious.
A silly laugh escapes me when I realize I didn’t respond. “Yeah, come in.”
He holds my gaze for a moment, and his eyes the color of burned amber widen just slightly in some sort of recognition like he knows me from somewhere else and I’m supposed to remember him. But he drops his gaze right away, a confused frown on his forehead like he’s mistaken.
He’s almost a head taller than me, hands in his pockets when he steps in. His presence fills the room. Maybe his dark clothes does. That’s what made me agree to rent a room to him yesterday—he made me feel safe.
“Feeling better today?” he asks with a softness in his voice that’s in contrast with his strong body and dark clothes.
“Yeah.” I smile at my feet. “Last night was…” I try to choose the right word. “Peculiar,” I say at the same time he says, “Interesting.”
We both chuckle, then say, “Yeah,” at the same time, grin, and glance at each other.
He looks away, but I keep my eyes on him. His smile changes his face, rendering it in the most humble and heart-warming way.
He looks like a good guy.
So do most serial killers, I hear Becky’s voice in my head.
“So…” I say, feeling awkward and giddy at once.
“So, it’s three thousand a month, right?” Jace finishes my sentence.
“Yes.”
Three thousand for a room is not a lot, considering it’s the luxury Goldsling Towers overlooking the East River.
