“Yeah, well, thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather ask one of the other neighbors.”
Spinning on my heel, I head down the hall, determined to get back into my apartment as fast as possible to get away from this asshole.
“Three out of the four other apartments on this floor are vacant,” he calls out after me. “The fourth belongs to Ms. Sheri Lee, retired nurse and widow who spends every single winter in her condo in Arizona.”
God-fucking-damnit.
Slowly and begrudgingly, I turn to face him, my scowl deepening as his smirk spreads. “You may as well suck it up,cariño, and use the damn phone.”
Ihatethat he’s right. What am I going to do? Be stubborn and sit outside my apartment until the snow clears? That could be days. But the thought of using anything of his, taking him up on any offer he has, makes my blood fucking boil.
Stomping over to him, I hold out my hand, palm up. “Fine,” I grumble as he slaps it into my hand.
“Atta boy.” He shakes the hair on my head messily, and if I wasn’t already irritated, that would surely do it. “Maybe you’re not so stupid after all.”
“You’re a fucking prick, you know that?”
“I do know that, baby. But one day, you’ll find it endearing. Trust me.”
“Stop fucking calling me baby and whatever the fuck cariño means.” Of course, I butcher the pronunciation of that word, saying it much less sexy than it sounds rolling off his tongue.
Based on the way his lip tugs into a crooked grin, I’d say he noticed. “Just make the damn call, you stubborn fool.”
Ten minutes later, I’ve called every single locksmith within a twenty-mile radius. Every single one saying they can’t make it out due to the weather conditions. To make matters even better, my landlord—who lives in the building—just so happens to be out of town this week.
This can’t be fucking happening.
The icing on top of this snow-covered cake is that the window in the hallway is broken, so it’s probably close to twenty degrees where I’m standing, and not even the puffer jacket is keeping me warm. At this point, call me Count fucking Olaf because this is a series of unfortunate events if I’ve ever heard of one.
Dragging my gaze back up to Mateo, I hand him his phone, already knowing what he’s going to say next. And I fucking hate it.
“You could come inside and wait out the storm.” He motions to his apartment. “I don’t bite… hard.”
“Please!” I cough up a laugh. “Like I would ever havesexwith you. Do I look that desperate?”
The humor in his expression vanishes, replaced by anger as he stalks toward me, backing me up against my door, boxing me in with his arm as his other hand wraps around my throat, squeezing just enough to startle me. “Let’s get one thing straight,estúpido… I said you could come inside andwait. I saidnothingaboutfuckingyou.” He steps back just enough to give me a once-over with a disgusted look in his eyes and a curl to his lip. “And I’d say you are, in fact, pretty desperate, so maybe don’t bite the hand that fucking feeds you, boy.”
Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I avert my gaze, feeling like a fucking idiot. He squeezes my throat a little tighter, my eyes snapping to meet his.
“How about we try this again with some manners this time, shall we?” His hands are removed from my body, and he takes a step back, putting some much-needed distance between us. “Would you like to come inside and wait out the storm, or would you rather sit out here and catch hypothermia?”
Clearing my throat, I run a hand through my hair. “Uh, sure. I’ll come in,” I say, barely above a whisper. “Th-thanks.”
14
MATEO
Like a hawk hunting his prey, my eyes never leave the sight of Travis as he wanders around my apartment, nervous and uncomfortable. It’s been ten minutes, and he hasn’t sat down once. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thrilled by the fact that he’s locked out of his place and had no choice but to come into my house.The enemy.I know that’s how he views me. It’s in the way his eyes narrow as he takes me in, lips pinched into a thin line. The way he not-so subtly scoffs or groans under his breath anytime I speak to him.
Not that I blame him, but again, he’s throwing his anger in the wrong direction. When I met Nathaniel on Grindr, I had no clue he was in a relationship. I may be a dick, but I don’t frequently make a habit of fucking men who aren’t mine to take.
One thing’s for sure… I’m going to enjoy fucking with Travis while he’s here. We’re trapped. Why not have a little fun? Sauntering into the kitchen, I pull open the fridge, glancing over to where he’s pacing in front of my couch. “Want something to drink?”
His head snaps up, like he’s lost in thought and forgot where he was. The scowl that’s ever-present around me slides firmly into place as he stops pacing, arms crossed over his chest. “No, I don’t want anything to drink,” he huffs.
Shrugging, I chuckle as I reach for a beer. “Suit yourself, man.” I twist off the cap, tossing it in the trash as I bring the bottle up to my lips, letting the crisp liquid fill my mouth. Maybe it’ll help clear up the fucking hangover and piss-poor mood I woke up with. I guess the conversation with my sister is still weighing on me because I’m feeling more snarky than usual.
“Does she need something to eat?” I ask, nodding toward the golden ball of fur that’s made herself right at home on my couch. I already gave her a bowl of water as soon as we got back in here. “I don’t have dog food, but I have some leftover rotisserie chicken.”
