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Setting down the fire extinguisher, I open the door to find that beautiful man taking up my whole doorway. His face is stern. All hard lines. Cheekbones so chiseled, he could cut ice with them. He’s leaning on the doorframe with one arm. Head cast down like he’d been listening instead of watching for me to answer. When the door is fully open, he lifts those intense eyes, dark with concern.
“Pack a bag,” he says without preamble.
“What?”
“Enough for a couple nights. We’ll come back to get the rest later.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I won't let you stay in this hellhole so your neighbor can come over anytime and manhandle you.”
“I told you I’m fine. I can handle it, see?” I show him the fire extinguisher. “Anyway, he’s not gonna do that again.”
“The hell he isn’t. He did it once, he’ll do it again. Do you need me to come in there and help you pack a bag? Because I will, and something tells me you won’t appreciate me going through your panty drawer.”
“And where am I supposed to go?”
I suppose I could crash at Maggie’s. But she shares an eight-hundred square foot studio with two other girls. We’d all have to sleep standing up.
Owen cocks his head, but doesn’t pass the threshold like he’s a vampire waiting to be invited inside. “My house.”
“Nah ah. There’s no way you’re luring me to your seduction palace. Just go home and get some rest. It’s late.”
“Not without you.”
I give him a tender smile because he gets brownie points for worrying about me.
“Goodbye, Owen.”
I close the door, making sure to close the deadlock and the chain.
“See, I’m safe inside. I’ll see you later this week,” I tell him through the door.
He goes silent after that.
After a long shower, I make myself a midnight snack so I can curl up in front of the TV and watch one episode of Full House. My mind is too wound up and I need some light entertainment to settle me.
When I open the trash lid to throw out my apple peels, a stench so rancid reaches my nostrils, it burns my nose hair. Howlong has it been since I’ve thrown out the garbage? Since before Quebec? It’s bad. Really bad.
I won’t be able to enjoy my cheese and apples with that smell lingering in the apartment now that it's out there, wafting around.
So I tie up the trash bag and put on my slides so I can walk to the garbage chute ten feet down the hall.
But when I open the front door, I almost trip on a body on the floor right outside my apartment. Owen's long legs stretch out in front of my doorway. His body is half leaning against the wall and he’s scrolling on his phone.
“What are you still doing here? I thought you left an hour ago.”
“Nope. I told you I won’t leave you alone. Now either you come with me or I guard your hallway all night.”
I try to ignore the way my heart tugs at that.
I step over his legs and drag my trash bag down the hallway. But he clasps his large bear-like paws over my small hands and takes the bag from me, tossing it into the chute.
He winces at the smell. “Something die in your trash can?”
“Probably.”
We walk the ten steps back to my front door and he settles himself against the wall again, waiting for me to go inside.
