Gavin felt as though he was in perpetual motion. He ran from one job to the next to the next, and then home to sleep, only to wake up and do it all over again. As he raced down the street, he allowed himself to wallow in the misery that was his life. This wasn’t the life he was meant to be living. But here he was, dealing with two jobs, one shittier than the next, just so he could keep a roof over his head. A roof that was being ripped away in a week.

A week. How the fuck was he going to find a place to live in a week? This was the problem with moving in with someone he met on Craigslist. There was a very real chance the roommate was using Gavin’s rent money for PCP and prostitutes. The worst part was that Gavin should’ve known better. He should’ve insisted on being added to the lease and paying his share to the landlord directly. Instead, he’d allowed himself to be nothing more than a squatter in the dingy apartment of a pathological liar.

Gavin threw open the door to The Coffee Bean with more force than was necessary. He scanned the store, thankful it was mostly empty of customers. Then he looked behind the counter, and he was even more thankful. Blake was standing there tying the strings of her black apron around her small waist. It actually would’ve been difficult to tell just how thin she was if it weren’t for the small pieces of fabric that cinched her shirt just under her chest.

Yesterday, Gavin had to force himself not to be a total perv and stare at her all day. Her terrific body, her wavy dark auburn hair that fell over her shoulders, her light-blue eyes, that smattering of freckles on her nose… She was beautiful. The fact that she seemed to have almost no filter was also attractive. Gavin had learned the hard way over the past few years that people rarely said what they meant or were honest about their intentions. In Gavin’s world, Blake was a welcome anomaly.

“Hey, hotness,” she shamelessly called out when she saw him.

He felt heat prick his face and couldn’t help the shy smile that quirked his lips. Giving her a small wave, he dipped into the back to clock in and grab an apron. When he came back out front, tying his apron as he walked, he approached Blake. “Ready?” he asked.

“For…?”

He barked out a laugh, and damn did it feel good. He didn’t laugh nearly enough anymore. “To learn how to make these drinks.”

A look of disappointment crossed her features. “Oh. That’s not nearly as fun as what I was thinking.”

“I bet it wasn’t.” He shook his head at her brazenness even though he liked it.

He showed her where the recipe book was that she could reference if she got stuck. Then he explained the most common orders and a few variations of each.

“How does anyone remember all this?” she asked, her eyes wide.

Gavin shrugged. “Repetition. Most of these get ordered multiple times a day, so it becomes second nature. And the rare ones you can look up.”

“I don’t think my brain has room for all of this. I’ve been a bartender for four years, and I still don’t remember how to make most of the drinks. I just throw whatever in a glass, and people know better than to complain.”

He smiled again. “What happens if they complain?”

“I throw them out.”

Eyebrows shooting up, Gavin said, “You throw people out?”

She widened her stance and put a hand on her hip. “What does that mean?”

“Can we pretend I never said that?”

Blake seemed to mull that over before dropping her arm. “Sure.”

Gavin was dumbstruck for a second. “Wait. Really?”

Blake leaned a hip against the counter. “Yeah. I say shit I shouldn’t all the time, so it’d be hypocritical of me to hold someone else accountable for the stupid things they blurt out.”

Gavin thought there was an insult in there somewhere, but he didn’t dwell on it. “Oh. Great. Thanks.”

Blake nodded. “So let’s talk about more interesting things.”

“Like what?”

“Like you.”

Trying to keep his face blank so she wouldn’t pick up on just how much he didn’t want to talk about himself, he asked, “What do you want to know?”

She tapped a finger against her chin for a few beats before answering. “Boxers or briefs?”

He rolled his eyes with a chuckle. When he saw her eyes alight with mischief, he decided she was teasing and didn’t answer.

“Okay, a real question,” she said. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five,” he answered.

“I’m twenty-six. I can be your sugar mama,” she joked.

At least he thought she was joking. “Wouldn’t be a hard position to qualify for,” he said in an attempt to tease her back.

But her face grew serious, making it plain that he’d somehow missed the mark. She looked pensive as she studied him. “What qualifications would someone need? In case I find someone interested in applying.”

Gavin laughed again, but it was humorless this time. “Right now, I’d settle for having a couch I could crash on.” He wasn’t sure why he was being so honest. He didn’t need anyone knowing about his personal shit. But part of him wanted to get it off his chest, throw it out into the universe so he didn’t have to carry it all on his own. Which was stupid, but he couldn’t take it back now.

Blake’s eyes grew wide as she bounced on her toes a little. “Oh my God, do you need a place to live? Say yes. Please, please, please say you’re homeless.”

Gavin had never seen someone so excited by the prospect of his homelessness. Even his parents hadn’t seemed to take any actual joy in it, and they’d caused it in the first place.

He busied himself with restocking the cups as he answered. “Not yet. But in about a week I will be if I don’t find something. But don’t worry. I always land on my feet.”

Blake grinned widely. “Well, it actually seems like you’ve landed right in my lap.”

Gavin wasn’t sure what that meant, but it sounded both dirty and promising.

* * *

Blake couldn’t believe her luck. Bethany’s dad had shown up at the crack of dawn that morning to help her move her out. Luckily, most of the furniture was Blake’s, since she was the constant in the apartment. Her roommates were the revolving door.

Bethany threw her things into garbage bags, and she and her dad carted them out and down the three flights of stairs without saying much of anything to Blake. Blake had nearly had to tackle Bethany to get the key to the apartment back. A key she’d shoved into her pocket and fingered now as she gazed excitedly at Gavin.

“Do I want to know what that means?” Gavin asked.

“I sure hope so.” She clapped her hands. “This is so amazing. I’m really going to get to be a sugar mama. Though not really, because you’ll need to pay rent. It’s pretty cheap though. Four hundred a month. You’re not going to find a better deal. So what do you say?”

Gavin’s eyes narrowed. “Say to what?”

“Moving in with me! My roommate moved out this morning, so you could move in immediately. She already paid for September, so you wouldn’t even need to pay until October.”

“You want me to move in with you?” he asked. He sounded confused, which she couldn’t understand. She thought she was being pretty damn clear.

“Yes. It’ll be perfect. I was just telling my friend Celeste how I should find a male roommate because the girls never last. And now here you are. It’s like fate.”

“Why do the girls not last?”

Uh-oh. This was exactly the kind of situation where Blake needed to slow down and think before she spoke. But she didn’t. “Because I can be a little…much.”

Gavin’s eyes flashed with unease.

“But not like, serial-killer much,” Blake added in a hurry. “I’m not hiding bodies in the floorboards or anything. But I am a tad eccentric. It becomes endearing after a while. You can ask my friend Celeste.” Celeste had recommended Blake refer to herself as eccentric instead of saying she was “batshit crazy,” which was off-putting. Go figure.

She eyed Gavin anxiously as he seemed to think over his options.

“So I could move in immediately?”

Trying to tamp down the flare of hope, she kept her voice even. “Yup.”

Gavin thought for another moment before extending his hand in her direction. “Then you got yourself a roommate.”

“Yay,” she said as she ignored his hand and jumped into his arms for a hug.

“I have a feeling my life is about to get very interesting,” he mumbled against her cheek.

She squeezed him tighter. “Probably. But in all the best ways.”