Ryan lived about five miles west of my shabby college apartment in a fancy neighborhood tucked just far enough away from downtown to have a suburban feel while still boasting an illustrious zip code. His neighborhood was where all the doctors and lawyers lived, so it made sense he’d be there, too. His house was a meticulously maintained Tudor-style two story with a wide, lush, green lawn and a three-car garage. Altogether, the place just screamed ‘a lawyer lives here’. It wasn’t ostentatious, but it was extremely nice (especially for a bachelor).

Ryan’s house was much fancier than the rented house I’d grown up in, although not nearly as fancy as the custom-built castle my father lived in. It didn’t, for instance, have the pair of life-size marble lions that guarded my dad’s front door. Instead, an actual cat—black, scrawny, and grizzled—stood sentinel in front of it. The cat puffed up as we approached, and its eyes turned into little amber slits.

“Is that your cat?” I asked. He didn’t look too friendly. Or healthy, for that matter.

Ryan smirked. “No. I’m not really a pet person. According to his name tag, that is Marley,” Ryan told me. The cat ran off and glared at us from under a bush. “He belongs to my neighbor, I think. He’s not very sociable.”

I’d never met a cat I didn’t like before, but Marley hissed when I extended a hand toward the bush. Rude. Well, there was a first time for everything. I just hoped it wasn’t a bad omen.

“You live here all alone?” I asked him when we got inside. To my surprise, the place was fully decorated. As in, someone with an eye for design had clearly spent a lot of time curating everything in sight. Everything was tasteful, matching, and not at all what I’d imagine a young guy like Ryan wanting to surround himself with. Not that I knew Ryan at all, but all the neutral, warm colors and hotel-like decorations felt weirdly bland and generic. It all had the chic but impersonal look of an HGTV show about house hunting. I absently wondered if a Crate and Barrel had thrown up in it.

Ryan looked at me sidelong. “Yes.”

“Have you always lived here alone?” My curiosity was running wild.

His head bobbed up and down. “Yeah. I just moved in about a month ago.”

“Hmm.” To my left, a pillow was embroidered with the phrase ‘home sweet home’. There were roses on it.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. It’s lovely.”

His eyes narrowed, and his breath puffed out in a little huff. “You know, every woman that’s come in here since I moved in has behaved strangely. None of them have explained why. Is there something weird about my house?” He looked around at the plush surroundings in confusion.

I smirked at his reaction. “No. Not at all. It’s really very pretty. It’s just… did you hire a decorator? Or did your girlfriend decorate it or something?” I couldn’t quite square the man in front of me with the space we were in. They didn’t match. Not at all.

Ryan seemed like the type of guy who’d prefer leather smoking chairs, ornate rugs, dark wood, and lots of brass. Instead, the room was filled with chevron patterns, shiplap, and stainless steel. It just didn’t add up.

He blinked at me and shook his head. “I don’t have a girlfriend. It was furnished this way when I bought it.”

I nodded, emboldened slightly that there was no live-in girlfriend (or girlfriends of any type) in the picture. “That makes sense.” I felt myself smiling, happy that I even if I had no chance, I had no competition.

Ryan, however, seemed to be deeply confused. “It’s weird because it’s decorated? I figured it was better to buy a decorated house than live in a blank, totally empty space. I didn’t have enough furniture…” He looked around himself as if suddenly reevaluating his choice.

Guilt shot through me. I shifted my weight from foot to foot and felt like a fool. Now that we were alone in his house, I felt totally out of my depth. I’d never been in a man’s space like this before. I’d never gone home with a man before, even to sleep in his guest room I didn’t know the rules. I certainly had no right to criticize a stranger’s house. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. It just doesn’t look like something a young, single guy would do.” I pointed at the ‘live, laugh, love’ art on the wall. It looked like something my mom would hang up.

He smirked at me. “Were you expecting cinderblock bookshelves and bean bag chairs? Maybe a Bob Marley poster or two? Lava lamps? I’m a bit old for that at this point.”

I frowned at him and felt myself blushing yet again. “You’re not old and I wasn’t expecting anything. You just didn’t strike me as the type of guy who spends his weekends antiquing and carefully decorating his living room.”

That answer appeared to mollify him. He even smirked. “That’s fair. I guess it is a bit heavy on the beige.”

“It looks nice,” I told him again. “Really. I mean, you’ve seen where I live. I’m in no position to criticize.”

Ryan’s confused expression returned in a rush. “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you live there? I’m sure your dad would get you a much nicer apartment.”

I sighed. He was right, of course. My dad would be perfectly happy to buy me a house nicer than this one if I only asked. But really, it was none of his business. “Actually, I happen to like my apartment when it isn’t full of water,” I told him. My voice was tart. The apartment might not be fancy, but it was mine. Even though it was being paid for by money that didn’t belong to me, at least it was mine.

He nodded and looked away. “Sorry. I’ll show you the guest room.”

“Ok.” I followed him obediently up the stairs. I shouldn’t have snapped at him again. I was just tired, irritable, and horny. It wasn’t a great mix. I really wasn’t at my best tonight.

“On the left is my bedroom and office, and you’ll be staying here,” he told me, pushing open a door to reveal something that looked more like a hotel room than some hotel rooms I’d stayed in. “There’s a bathroom attached. And you’re welcome to use the kitchen.”

“Ok. Thank you again for letting me stay. I’m sorry to be an imposition.” Staring at him across the double bed felt unreal. I begged him with my eyes to throw me atop it and fix all my problems right then and there. I was pretty sure sex would fix all my problems at the moment. Or at least make me forget about them for a while.

“You’re not an imposition.” He smiled at me, and I didn’t know what it meant.

I sure felt like an imposition standing uselessly like I was. We stared at each other for a long moment. My heart decided now would be an excellent time to hammer so loudly that I wondered if he could hear it. I wished he’d make a move. Ryan’s blue eyes seemed to be full of things he wanted to say. Or maybe do. But he didn’t.

“Well, I guess I’ll settle in,” I finally stammered. The spell between us broke.

“It is getting late, huh? I’ll get out of your way.” He smiled at me. “If you need anything, just holler. I’m right across the hall.”

“Ok,” I whispered.

“Happy birthday, Rosie.” His smile said that he knew exactly what I wanted. He could read me like an open book. He softly closed the door behind him, leaving me alone with my frustrated thoughts.