Chapter 15

Melany

CHANCE’S APARTMENT WASN’T anything like I’d thought it would be. I expected to walk into a bachelor pad, a place that screamed “a single guy lives here,” complete with dirty clothes, empty pizza boxes, and minimal personal touches.

My assumption was way off base.

“Wow,” I gasped as I crossed the threshold. The sight before me completely took my breath away. The front door opened directly into a large living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows on the back wall bathed the entire space in sunlight, offering up a stunning view of the city. The whole place was decorated in masculine comfort with a large, fluffy tan sectional and cherry wood coffee table that faced a fireplace. A large, flat-screen TV hung above the mantle, and on either side were two built-in bookshelves, stuffed full of legal reference books, murder mysteries, and some autobiographies, as well as a few well-placed knickknacks and picture frames.

To the left, up two small steps, was a massive dream kitchen with top-of-the-line appliances, separated from the living area by a long bar. The black granite countertops and white subway tile backsplash gleamed, not a dirty dish or empty pizza box in sight.

“This place is great, Chance,” I said, turning to look at him over my shoulder.

He smiled that charismatic grin of his that made him look even more handsome. “Glad you like it.” He pointed to an alcove off the kitchen that led to a closed door. “That’s the master there. And down that hall—” He turned my attention to a long hallway to the right of the living room. “—is the guest room and bathroom, laundry room, and my office. Let me show you where you’ll be staying.”

I followed him down the hall. As we passed an open door on the left, I peeked in, getting a brief glimpse of a large oak desk and a brown leather chair—Chance’s home office. The next door was a spacious guest bath with an enormous shower/tub combo and a large, white marble vanity. The guest bathroom at Chance’s was more than double the size of the main bathroom at my mother’s house, so I could only imagine how big the master bath was. The guest room was on the right, across from the bathroom, and at the end of the hall was a set of double doors that Chance said led to the laundry room.

He dropped my bag inside the doorway of the guest bedroom. There was a queen-size bed with a thick, comfy looking navy comforter. The walls were painted a dove gray, and the bed, nightstands, and chest of drawers were all made of attractive, high-quality dark-stained wood.

And it had to be said that the size of the room was a little overwhelming. My bedroom, closet, and bathroom from back home could fit into this one and still leave space to walk around. Granted, my old room was the size of a crackerjack box, but still! This was Manhattan, where people had to sell their souls for an apartment the size of a closet that was infested with rats the size of a small dog.

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head as I turned and declared, “Chance, this place is…” I could only imagine the hit his bank account took when he had to write his rent check. “You have to let me contribute if I’m going to stay here. I mean… I seriously doubt I could pay half the rent, unless I sold a kidney on the black market or something, but I’ll give you what I can!”

“Melany—”

“And maybe we can split utilities?”

“That’s not—”

“Oh! And I’ll be responsible for buying all the groceries! I know I can afford that, at the very least.”

I was still talking when Chance’s hand came up and covered my mouth, cutting me off, midramble. His eyes shone with amusement as he informed me, “You aren’t paying half the rent… or the utilities. And maybe I’ll let you pay for groceries on occasion, but that’s a very loose maybe.”

My mouth dropped open, but of course he couldn’t see since his hand was still covering it. Smacking his hand off my face, I narrowed my eyes and scrunched my face up in a glare, which only made his grin widen into a full-blown smile. “I’m paying my way,” I demanded.

“You’re not,” he insisted.

“Am! This place has to cost you a fortune each month! No way am I mooching off you without pulling my weight. It wouldn’t be right.”

His eyes rolled to the ceiling as if he were asking some higher power to give him patience. When he finally returned his gaze to mine, he continued. “Look, it’s not an issue. I don’t pay rent on this place because I bought it outright. I’m a partner at a law firm, so I bring home a more than decent salary, and my parents set up a trust fund that became available to me when I turned twenty-five. I made some smart investments with that money, so you feeling the need to contribute really isn’t necessary, especially since you should be saving everything you can if you want to get a place of your own.”

“You…” My brain was unable to calculate just how much he would have spent to buy this place—considering its size and location—outright. I knew he was well enough off since he’d insisted on purchasing an entirely new wardrobe for me, but I guess I hadn’t really stopped to think about Chance’s financial situation. “You bought this place?”

“I did.”

“Outright?”

He chuckled and lifted his hand, using the tips of his fingers underneath my chin to close my gaping mouth. “Yes.”

“Holy shit!” I breathed. “You’re rich!”

His chuckle turned into outright laughter. “I’m not rich. I’m well off.”

“There’s a difference?” I squeaked.

“Yes. Now, my parents? They’re rich. So is Navie’s husband, Rowan. I prefer to consider myself comfortable.”

“Comfortable is a pair of fuzzy socks,” I deadpanned. “This”—I encompassed the room with a wave of my arm—“is a lot more than just comfortable!”

Chance hooked his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side, turning us and leading the way back into the living area. “Call it whatever you want, sweetheart. Just know I’m not letting you pay for anything. Now, I’m starving. You feel like going out or ordering in?”

And just like that, the subject was dropped. I might have put up more of a fight, but he’d called me sweetheart, which made me feel all warm and melty. The jerk was quickly catching on to my weaknesses.

I WAS SITTING at my desk, clicking through browsers on my computer while frustration bubbled up inside me. It was my lunch hour, and I’d decided to use that time going through apartment listings online while I munched on a prepackaged salad. I’d been staying at Chance’s for a week and a half already. It was time for me to start getting serious about finding my own place.

The only problem was, Chance found something wrong with each and every apartment I showed him.

His excuses ran the gamut from “too old” and “shoddy wiring,” to “that neighborhood is only acceptable to live in if you want to get robbed at knifepoint in the middle of the night.”

Then there was my personal favorite. “I wouldn’t be surprised if someone died in that apartment. I bet it’s haunted.”

Seriously. After the fifth text message, I’d moved passed annoyed and was teetering on the edge of downright miffed.

It was as if he was looking for any excuse—reasonable or not—to prevent me from getting my own place. Which was ridiculous. I couldn’t understand what he was gaining out of our current arrangement. He was a good-looking guy in his physical prime. As far as I could tell, he hadn’t had a single date since I moved in. He came home from work every evening and hung out with me until we went to bed. We even spent the majority of the weekend together, with the exception of the few hours on Saturday when I met up with Constance for lunch to give her the scoop on everything that had gone down with my mother.

She’d laughed her ass off when I told her about his throwdown with the Wicked Witch. Then she nearly choked on her mimosa when I informed her that he insisted I stay with him until I found something suitable. She gave me a funny look I couldn’t decipher when I brought up my concerns that I was cramping his style.

“Is there something going on between you two that I should know about?” she’d asked confusingly.

“What? No. We’re just friends.”

For reasons I didn’t understand, she hadn’t looked convinced, but let the subject drop anyway.

My phone dinged with another incoming text. Sure enough, it was Chance. Only this time he surprised me.

Chance: That place is perfect.

I read it again, my stomach somersaulting with a combination of excitement and just a hint of unexpected and slightly startling disappointment. What the hell was that all about? I replied, focusing on the excitement and ignoring the disappointment.

Me: Really?

Chance: Yeah.

Before I could respond, another message came through.

Chance: If you don’t mind a family of huge-ass rats and their ugly little rat babies as roommates.

Well, there you go. I rolled my eyes skyward before shoving another forkful of lettuce into my mouth, grumbling nonsensical words under my breath as I pounded on my computer mouse, clicking rapidly through apartment listings.

“Stupid, judgy, jerk-face with his stupid perfect, gorgeous, expensive apartment.”

“What’s going on?”

I let out a sharp, startled screech at the sound of the voice behind me. I spun just in time to see Logan lift his hands in apology as he rounded my desk. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you. I thought you heard me.”

I placed my hand on my chest to try and slow my rapid heartbeat. “No, it’s okay. Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. You just caught me off guard.”

He grinned and my cheeks heated up. “Working on some top-secret project?” he asked, tipping his chin toward my computer.

“Oh, no. I was just browsing apartment listings during my lunch break.” To my surprise, instead of moving on like he always did, he rested his hip against my desk, making himself comfortable.

“You’re looking to move?”

Things had shifted slightly between us since that brief encounter by the elevator a few weeks back. He actually seemed to notice me now, chatting with me in the breakroom if we happened to be in there at the same time, smiling and acknowledging me whenever we passed in the hallway. He was always so polite whenever we interacted, but it was a little discombobulating to have the man I’d been attracted to for so long realize that I existed.

“Uh… yeah. I’m kind of in between places at the moment. I’m staying with a friend, but I really need to find my own place.”

Logan’s eyes stayed focused on mine as he leaned in slightly. “You know, I have a friend in real estate. I’d be happy to give him a call if you need help looking.”

To say the polite offer was unexpected would have been an understatement. I might have been inclined to take him up on it if Chance hadn’t already declared himself my unofficial agent. “That’s really sweet. I have someone helping me look right now, but I really appreciate you mentioning it.”

His smile was unlike any he’d ever given me before, and it caused my belly to do a funny little dip. “Any time. You just let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will.” I expected him to move along, but he looked like he had something else to say. My phone pinged with another text, but I didn’t want to be rude and look at it when Logan was still standing at my desk.

“You know, me and some friends are hitting up a new bar on 33rd after work. You should join us. It would be nice to hang out outside the office.”

It would? Holy crap! My belly did that dip thing again. “Oh, uh…”

“It’ll be a lot of fun,” he said in a teasing voice. “You should really think about it.”

My mouth opened and I found myself speaking before my brain could fully engage. “Um, okay. Yeah. Th-that sounds fun.”

“Really?” He looked pleasantly surprised at my acquiescence. I really, really liked that I was the one who put that look on his face, but then I remembered something.

“Oh, crap.”

“What?”

“I just… I kind of forgot that I already made dinner plans with a friend tonight.” Chance and I had seen the sign for a new Indian restaurant that opened two blocks from his apartment, and we were planning on trying it out after he got off work.

“That’s okay. You can just meet us there after dinner. And bring your friend with you.”

That actually didn’t sound half bad. And if I were being honest, having Logan suggest I bring Chance along was a huge relief. The idea of walking into a bar with a bunch of people I didn’t know made my shoulders tense up. If I had someone I trusted with me, I might actually be able to loosen up and enjoy myself. “Really? That would be okay?”

“Of course. The more the merrier. Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll text you where we’re going to be? You and your friend can head over when you finish dinner.”

Logan hung around a few minutes after we exchanged numbers, and by the time he headed back to his office, I was actually excited about the night to come.

I looked at my cell to read the text Chance had sent a few minutes before.

Chance: Maybe you can train the rats and they can become house pets. Kind of like a puppy, but with rabies and stuff.

I laughed out loud and dropped the phone back onto my desk without responding. It wasn’t until that moment, as I smiled thinking about how funny Chance was, that I realized that was the very first time in five years I’d interacted with Logan without my heart nearly beating through my chest.