I smile.“I’ll think about it.”
“Nerd,” Landon slaps my back gently and chuckles.
As I watch him walk down the hall, I can’t help but think about what he said.Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot.
8
Playing With Fire
Iclosethedoorbehind me, the click echoing through the silence of the apartment.My shoulders ache from the weight of the day, my backpack digging into my spine like a reminder that everything right now feels heavy.
The faint sound of video game gunfire and clicking controllers filters in from the living room.I pause in the hallway.
No way.
After seeing Fox at the café earlier, I figured he’d keep up his Houdini act for another few days.But sure enough, he’s sprawled across the couch like nothing happened, game controller in hand, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
He glances up at me for a split second—expression unreadable—before returning to his game.
Typical Fox.
I sigh and force myself to say, “Hi.”
He doesn’t answer.Not even a grunt.No surprise there.
I retreat to my room, dump my bag on the floor, and take the fastest cold shower imaginable.I need to rinse off the day, clear my head, and reset before I deal withhim.After changing into shorts and a loose T-shirt, I head back to the living room.
Partly because I’m hungry.
Partly because I need answers.
Fox is still gaming, his body relaxed like he has no care in the world.Smoke coils in the air around him, and he barely acknowledges me as I hover near the edge of the couch.
“Uh… can I sit?”I ask, arms folded.
He takes a drag of his cigarette, blows out a slow cloud of smoke, and finally turns to look at me.“Yeah.Whatever.”
I blink.That was… weirdly civil.
“Well, that’s… kind of nice,” I mutter as I ease onto the other end of the couch.
“Don’t make me change my mind, dumbass,” he snaps, fingers dancing across the buttons of his controller.
I roll my eyes.“You do realize this is my apartment too, right?I pay rent just like you.I’m allowed to sit in the living room.”
Fox pauses his game and cuts me a look—sharp, irritated.I instantly regret saying anything, the confidence draining out of me like a leak I can’t patch.
But he just scoffs and unpauses the game, going back to ignoring me.
“What do you want?”he mutters eventually, his voice flat, like I’m interrupting a nap he didn’t even want to take.
I glance at him—his usual uniform of shirtless chaos on full display.Dark jeans riding low on his hips, the waistband of his Calvin Klein briefs visible.The muscles on his forearm shift every time he moves the controller.His whole body looks like it was sculpted for a thirst trap.
Unfortunately, my eyes linger.
“Stop eye-fucking me, you creep.It’s disturbing,” he mutters, not even looking away from the screen.
My face burns.“I wasn’t…”
