The place was huge; I could tell that off the bat. The door opened right onto a wall made of windows, making way to an unobstructed view of the Santa Monica coastline. It was gorgeous at night and I knew it would be breathtaking during the day. It was nothing compared to my little apartment, but even with both of us no more than a foot inside, Wesley looked less at home here than he had at my place.
I shoved that thought down someplace deep, swearing to never revisit it again.
“Decently obscene.” An arm flew up from behind the back of the couch, then shoulders and a head of messy blond hair.
Grayson was older than Wesley, and he had thoughtful eyes that went from his roommate to me and back again.
“How were the turtle races?” he asked.
“Eye-opening,” I muttered.
“Grayson, this is my friend Colin. Colin, my roommate, Grayson.”
“Nice to meet you,” I offered.
“You’re not what I expected when Wesley said he was going out with a friend.”
“Stop it,” Wesley hissed.
“Too old?” I countered.
Grayson smirked and slid back down onto the couch, unpausing whatever movie he’d been watching.
“Sorry,” Wesley whispered.
“It’s fine. What did you want to show me? Remember, I have to call it an early night.”
“Right.” He tried his best to shake it off, gesturing weakly toward the kitchen. “This is, like, the shared space, I guess.”
“It’s basic.”
“We haven’t been here that long.”
“Housewarming this weekend, right?”
Wesley blinked at me. “How did you know?”
“It came up last week when I met you at lunch with your brother,” I reminded him. I reminded myself that he was my colleague’sveryyounger brother. But my brain ignored the words, cycling a mile a minute through a list of horrible ideas instead.
“Oh. Did you want to come?”
“I’m sorry?” I cleared my throat.
“To the housewarming party.” Wesley toed off his sneakers and kicked them toward a mat beside the front door. I kept mine on because the last thing I needed to be was comfortable.
“Maybe.”
“Let me show you my room.” He was quick to change the subject, and even quicker to disappear down a long, dark, hallway. There was an open door on one side, which was clearly the bathroom, then two doors against the other wall, both of them closed.
“Which one’s yours?”
“Neither, but this is the bathroom if you need it. Now or ever, or whatever.”
“My room is on the other side of the apartment.” Wesley turned on the lights and I followed him down the other hall and into the bedroom that was easily the size of my living room.
“Oh, is this Grayson’s, then?”
“Both.” Wesley flipped his hand toward the closed doors and went back through the living room, down a shorter hallway with only one door at the far end.
