“Hey,” Gavin said after letting himself into the apartment and walking toward Blake and Celeste who were sitting on Blake’s couch. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem,” Blake said. When he’d texted to say he was downstairs, she’d unlocked the door and typed for him to come on in.

“Who is that?” Celeste whispered as she watched Gavin carry a large box to his bedroom.

He wore a fitted gray sleeveless shirt that showed off his biceps—and his pecs, Blake was certain, if he’d just put the damn box down. A few seconds later, he emerged from his bedroom, his arms hanging loosely at his sides—which allowed her to confirm her hypothesis about his chest—as he headed for the door.

“Oh. That was Gavin. He’s moving in.”

“You didn’t tell me that.” Celeste said it as though Blake had wronged her in some way.

“What are you talking about? I just told you.”

Celeste rolled her eyes. “Is that, like, The Gavin?”

“Are there other Gavins I’m not aware of?” Blake said flatly.

Her comment earned her an elbow to her side from Celeste. “Shut up. He’s super hot. You were seriously gonna keep this a secret from me? You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I am. But not for that. I have other transgressions I’d rather not discuss.”

Celeste narrowed her eyes at Blake like she wasn’t sure whether there was truth to Blake’s comment. Then her gaze darted to Gavin as he made another trip into his new room with a small TV and a few bags.

When he came out again, he flipped the white cap he was wearing backward. The action itself was hot, and it served to give a clearer view of his face, which Blake noticed had a gleam of sweat on it. His shirt was also damp, and when he brought the bottom up to wipe his face, Blake’s gaze went to his abs. She was sure Celeste’s had gone there too, though her friend no doubt made more of an effort to hide it.

“You need some help?” Blake asked. “The three-story walk-up is no joke in this heat.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said. “That’d be great! You sure you don’t mind?”

“Oh. You want us to help. I meant more like calling some of your friends. But yeah, we can give you a hand, right, Celeste?”

Celeste looked as if Blake had volunteered her to participate in the Hunger Games. “I’ll let you two have at it. I’m enjoying the view too much to trade it for hard labor.”

Blake shrugged, not entirely bothered by the idea of spending some time with Gavin while sweat glistened on his muscles. “Suit yourself.”

Gavin laughed softly before bringing a bottle of water up to his mouth and taking a long drink. The way his throat moved as he swallowed did things to Blake that made her wonder when Poland Spring had become an aphrodisiac. When he screwed the cap on and set it back down on the countertop, his gaze seemed to catch on the tile. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that it was only three-quarters finished or the theme that had caught his attention. He didn’t comment on it, and Blake wondered if nothing about her could surprise him. “Thanks. I had two buddies who said they’d help but one’s too hungover and the other’s running late. He should get here soon though, so no worries if you don’t wanna help. We’ll get it done.”

“Is he as sexy as you are?”

“Blake,” Celeste scolded. “You know how I like to be surprised.” Celeste turned to Gavin. “Just ignore her. She has a big mouth.”

“You don’t need to explain how I am,” Blake said. “He already knows, and he’s fine with it. Right, Gavin?”

Gavin’s eyes had darted between the two women, but they settled back on Blake, the corner of his mouth rising in amusement. “Yup, it’s all good.”

“Then my question stands.”

It seemed to take Gavin a moment to remember what the question had even been, but he didn’t seem to mind answering once he did. “Yeah, uh, he’s good-looking. I guess. I mean, I’m not gay or anything, so my opinion might not be the most accurate one, but—”

“Bullshit,” Blake interrupted. “I hate when guys pretend they don’t know if other guys are hot or not. Women can tell if other women are hot, and they have no problem stating it.” She looked to Celeste, running her eyes over her friend’s body. Celeste squirmed in her seat at the appraisal, but that did nothing to deter Blake from sharing her judgment. “Celeste’s a seven. An eight and a half when she puts on makeup and smiles.”

Celeste punched her friend hard in the arm, but Blake had already prepared herself for what was coming and had pulled back in anticipation of the blow so that it barely grazed her. “I’m wearing makeup now,” Celeste said.

“Oh. Then she’s a six. Seven and a half at best.” She laughed at Celeste’s huff, but Blake knew she wasn’t actually annoyed. Celeste was beautiful, more beautiful than Blake in Blake’s opinion, and she’d told her friend that more times than she could remember. But she couldn’t resist tormenting Celeste whenever she got the chance. Especially since Celeste never seemed to mind. “What do you think, Gavin?”

“Um… I don’t…uh, can we go back to evaluating Simon?”

“His name’s Simon?” Blake asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“It drops him down at least a half a point,” she answered. “Simon’s not a hot name.”

“Agreed,” Celeste said.

“Simon’s a normal name,” Gavin said in defense of his friend. “What’s the matter with it?”

“It’s one of the chipmunks,” Blake countered.

“Oh, and that old English guy who used to be on American Idol.”

“Yes,” Blake said. “This game’s fun. Let me think.”

Blake wondered if Gavin would join in, but he seemed too busy trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with them to actually take part in the game.

“Oh, I got another one!” Celeste said. “Simon’s the name of Farrah’s boyfriend. Although I guess they aren’t together anymore, so he’s not technically her boyfriend.”

This time Blake looked as confused as Gavin did. “Who the hell are you talking about?” she asked.

“From Teen Mom. Farrah,” she said as if repeating the name would cause Blake and Gavin to recall a person they didn’t know about. “She was the one who had that anal porn video.”

Blake raised her eyebrows. “Still don’t know who you’re talking about, but now I’m intrigued.”

“Was the tape with the Simon guy?” Gavin asked.

“No. Someone else.”

“I don’t…” Gavin narrowed his eyes as he seemingly tried to figure out what Celeste was talking about. “Would he be hotter if he was the ass porn guy?”

“That,” Blake said, pointing at Gavin, “is an excellent question.”

“No, because Farrah’s a slutty asshole, and anyone who willingly associates with her must therefore also be a slutty asshole. He thinks he’s hot shit, and she’s annoying and fake.” She crossed her arms like her explanation had made all the sense in the world. “It’s the law of transference.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what that is,” Gavin said.

“Me either,” Blake agreed. “I lost you at ‘slutty asshole.’”

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the open door, and a man with floppy, dark hair stepped inside carrying a box. “I’m not sure what I’m walking into, but I’m assuming I have the right place.” He looked at Gavin, who was laughing hysterically.

Celeste huffed. “Never mind. My theory’s blown anyway. He’s hot.” She thrust an arm in Simon’s direction as if the realization disappointed her.

“Hi,” Simon said, shifting the box to one arm so he could extend the other as he headed to the couch to greet Celeste and Blake. It made the muscles in his left arm even more defined than they already were. “I’m Simon.”

“We know,” Blake said, giving his hand a gentle shake.

“That’s Blake, and I’m Celeste.” Celeste’s words sounded almost like a song, and it made Blake roll her eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Celeste.” Then he added, “Like the pizza, right?” as if the connection with the frozen meal would somehow make it more likely that he’d remember her name.

Blake didn’t think Simon had meant the comment as an insult. The opposite actually. He didn’t seem like the sharpest tool in the shed and struck her as the type who probably enjoyed a frozen pizza from time to time. He’d probably meant it as a compliment.

“Um…yeah, I guess,” Celeste said, causing Simon to smile and reveal two dimples.

On Celeste’s suggestion, she and Blake heated up some popcorn and watched the guys carry some furniture and a few more boxes up for the next half hour or so. When they were just about done, Simon wiped the sweat from his brow with the top of his shirt.

“I’m an awful hostess,” Blake said. “I should have offered you some lemonade or something.”

“Thanks. Lemonade would be great,” Simon replied.

“Oh. I actually don’t think I have any,” Blake clarified. “It was more of an expression.”

“Offering lemonade to someone is an expression?” Simon asked.

“Maybe ‘expression’ wasn’t the right word. I meant…” Blake sighed, unable to explain herself. “I have cold drinks I’m happy to offer you, but not lemonade.”

“Oh, okay. Anything’s fine,” Simon answered.

Blake got up and headed into the kitchen. “I’ve got water…from the tap, of course, because who willingly pays for something they can get for free, right?” Blake asked though she didn’t expect a reply. “And I think we have a few beers left.” She opened the fridge. “Yeah, some beer and some kind of V8 drink my old roommate left in there. But I’m pretty sure only whackjobs drink vegetables, so I’m sure you don’t want that.”

“Um, no, probably not. I’ll take a beer for the road if you have one.”

Blake wondered if Simon actually planned to drink his beer while driving, but she decided she’d rather not know. Instead, she pulled out four beers and passed one to each of them.

“To my adventures with my new roommate,” Gavin said, raising his bottle for the others to follow.

“More like misadventures,” Celeste said.

Blake held hers up again as she smiled at Gavin. “Okay, then. Here’s to many misadventures with my new roommate.” Then she clinked bottles with the other three, thinking that was definitely a toast she could get on board with.

* * *

Gavin finished unpacking the last of his clothes and made his way back out to the small living room. If it could even be called that. The space looked more like a strange antique shop you might find in some sort of coastal town. Strange trinkets, like an elephant made out of blue glass and an old rotary phone—which he was certain didn’t work since it wasn’t plugged into the wall—were lined up neatly on some of the wooden shelves along the perimeter of the room.

He was thankful he’d warned Simon before he’d come over not to comment on anything. By Blake’s own admission, she was a bit strange, and Gavin didn’t know what they’d be walking into that morning when he moved his stuff in.

But as he took the time to look at what would now be considered his home, he realized how accurate his prediction had been. The space was a hodgepodge of eclectic furniture: two mustard-yellow pleather-covered barstools in the dining area, a worn couch that looked like it’d been upholstered with red-and-black shirts from a lumberjack’s closet, and an assortment of small, mismatched tables that were sprinkled around without—in Gavin’s opinion—much of a purpose.

Most of them were completely bare, except for a few empty soda cans, which appeared to have been discarded there while Blake had been passing through the space. Why she hadn’t bothered to walk the additional seven or so steps to the kitchen to throw them out would probably remain one of the many mysteries about the woman. Another mystery was why she’d chosen to retile part of the kitchen counter.

Herself.

He’d assumed she’d done it herself anyway. Gavin couldn’t imagine that she would’ve had the money to hire someone to do it, nor did he think a professional would have done work that looked like what was in front of him. He’d first noticed the odd choice in tile earlier in the day when he was talking to Blake and Celeste but had decided not to ask Blake why she’d chosen to decorate a place where people ate with tiles depicting silhouettes of people posing in various Kama Sutra positions. The fact that he found himself hoping she planned to finish the remaining few square feet alarmed him slightly.

As someone whose passion consisted of portraying scenes and people in the most beautiful way possible, Gavin found himself almost confused by his new environment. No lighting or camera angle could make this setting pleasing to the eye. At least, he didn’t think so. The walls of the entire apartment, including his new bedroom, were painted a pale coral, which only made the apartment that much more aesthetically unappealing. It didn’t strike him as a place someone would necessarily want to live. But here he was, about to do just that with a semi-stranger. He picked up his camera from the coffee table and snapped a few pictures of the strange decor. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to document a place he wasn’t sure he even wanted to be, but there he was. After taking a close-up of the tiles, Gavin put his camera down.

“Fuck,” he breathed out as he ran a hand through his curly blond hair. “What am I doing here?”

“I don’t know,” a voice said dryly from behind him. “Talking to yourself?”

“Shit,” Gavin said with a jolt as he spun around to see Blake, who was now wearing some sort of top that barely came below her breasts. “I didn’t realize you were still here.”

“That’s what made me say you were talking to yourself.”

“Yeah…um…I’m just a little overwhelmed at the moment. It’ll pass.”

He thought he saw a hint of a smile, but it almost seemed like she’d decided not to follow through with it. “I have that effect on people.”

Gavin chose to ignore her comment, which left them looking at one another in awkward silence.

“What were you taking pictures of?” she finally asked.

Gavin looked over at his camera as if it was going to answer for him. “Oh, uh, nothing really. It’s just something I do. Take pictures, I mean. I’m a photographer.” Which was a stupid thing to explain because he’d already told her about his other job one day at the coffee shop.

She took a step toward him. “Can I see?”

“Um…” Gavin hesitated. While people obviously saw the pictures he took for work at the portrait studio, he hadn’t shown anyone his personal photos in a long time. But unsure how to refuse, Gavin picked up his camera and turned it back on before handing it to her so she could see the screen.

He watched her click through the photos, mostly candids he’d taken as he wandered around the city. She was silent as she scrolled, which made him anxious. After a few minutes, she lowered the camera. “These are incredible.”

Gavin shrugged. “They’re okay. I could do better if I concentrated more, but I mostly just take them for fun.”

“Well, I think they’re pretty damn good.”

“Thank you.” He felt a blush creeping up his neck, so he changed the subject by asking her what she’d been up to the past few hours because he hadn’t heard her in a while.

“Sleeping,” she said simply. “But Guy and Baby woke me up.”

“Who?” Gavin wasn’t sure he even wanted to know who Blake was talking about, but he found himself asking anyway.

She gestured toward her room with a nod. “The neighbors on that side of the apartment. They only know how to do two things—fight and fuck,” she explained.

“And their names are Baby and Guy?”

“No. I don’t know what their names are. The guy’s always calling the girl baby, and she never says his name at all. And since I don’t care enough to ask them, I guess I’ll never know.”

Gavin laughed. “Oh. So what is it this time?”

“What is what?” Blake asked, confused.

“What are they doing? Fighting or fucking?”

“Oh. Fighting. Or they were when I came out here, but sometimes one leads to the other, so who knows what they’re up to now.”

“Interesting,” Gavin said with an amused smile. “Guess it’s good my room’s on the other side of the apartment then.”

Blake shrugged. “Depends on which you prefer. I’m pretty sure your dude’s birth records are written on parchment paper with a quill somewhere. He watches reruns of MacGyver at a decibel level that would rival most military-grade helicopters.”

“Shit,” Gavin said. “I think I’d prefer your couple. I feel like there’s a level of entertainment to them that I won’t get with Richard Dean Anderson.”

“Probably. Sometimes when Baby gets exceptionally emotional, she starts yelling at him in another language. I don’t even think he understands what she’s saying,” Blake told him with a smile. “You wanna come listen?”

“To Guy and Baby?” Gavin raised an eyebrow. “Fuck yeah, I do. Do you ever bang on the wall or tell them to shut up or anything?” he asked as they walked down the short hall to Blake’s room.

“I did when I first moved in, but it only encourages them to be louder. Now I usually put on headphones or something if it’s the middle of the night.”

Gavin nodded, thinking that he needed to make sure he looked for his earbuds. He didn’t remember unpacking them, and he had a habit of constantly losing them. “You weren’t kidding. They really are loud,” he said as soon as he was in Blake’s room. With her door shut, he hadn’t even heard them. But now that there was only a thin piece of drywall between him and the Odd Couple, he had no trouble hearing every word.

“Because that’s the jelly I like, that’s why!” yelled a female voice. “You’ll eat the grape. I won’t. So stick to that instead of using all of mine.”

“Come on, baby. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Am I?” she spat. “Speaking of nothing, that’s what I’ll be having for breakfast tomorrow now that I don’t have anything to put on my English muffin.”

Gavin was puzzled. “They’re really fighting about jelly?”

“Not when I left, they weren’t. Guy was telling her he was going bowling with the guys.”

“Guy has guys?” Gavin asked, amused with his own joke.

“Guess so. Baby said he was just out last night and she wanted to spend time together. I think that’s why she starts the fights to begin with. Like she’s looking for a way to interact with him or something.”

“That’s…insightful,” Gavin said before adding, “but also a little disturbing. Isn’t that what kids do? Like when toddlers throw tantrums?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m not much of a kid person.”

Gavin had the urge to ask her what that meant exactly, but it occurred to him that it wasn’t his business. Blake seemed like a private person, and Gavin didn’t want to pry.

Blake’s eyes remained on the wall, and Gavin noticed that her room was the only one in the apartment that wasn’t painted a muted coral. Three walls were a pale blue, but the one they were currently looking at was white. Or had been at one time. Now it was more of a dark eggshell that had been marred with scratches and stray smudges. From what, Gavin wasn’t sure.

He wondered why she’d chosen to leave that wall so plain when the rest of the apartment was in such sharp contrast to it. And though he didn’t know for sure that she’d even been the one to choose the colors, something told him she was.

The two of them stayed silent for a few minutes as they stared at the scarred wall, watching a show that neither of them could see.

“What do you want me to do?” Guy asked. “I’ll stop on the way home and get more strawberry jelly if that’s what you want. But there’s still some in here. Look.”

There was a lull in the conversation before Baby spoke again. “Jesus, this isn’t about the jelly.” The sound of glass shattering made both Blake and Gavin jolt in response, but neither of them looked at the other.

“Maybe his name’s Jesus,” Gavin said, turning his head toward Blake.

She returned his stare, tearing her gaze from the wall to look at him. “What?”

“Guy’s name,” he said. “Baby called him ‘Jesus.’”

“She didn’t call him Jesus. She was using it as an expletive,” Blake argued.

“Do you know that for sure?” Gavin asked, knowing that his suggestion was a ridiculous one.

Blake rolled her eyes. “I’m like ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure that people with that name don’t pronounce it with the hard J.”

“Well, there are like seven billion people in the world, so if one-tenth of a percent of them pronounce it that way, that’s like”—Gavin paused as he tried to do the math, but that only resulted in Blake looking more amused, and this time it was at his expense—“I don’t know, like millions of people or something. There are probably hard J Jesuses everywhere that we haven’t heard of.”

“Jesuses?” Blake repeated.

“Yeah. Jesuses. What do you think the plural would be? Like Jesi or something?”

Blake shook her head at him. “You might be even weirder than I am, and that makes me much more confident that this new living arrangement is going to work out just fine.” Without waiting for a reply she headed back out the door, leaving Gavin in her room alone to wonder just how weird his new roommate actually was.