Page 61 of Power Play

I’d probably agree with her if I had two kids and a husband taking up all my time and energy. This probably sounded like heaven to her, but I’d trade her in a second.

It wasn’t that I was scared. I felt safe in this building. I just … I was lonely. Like I’d been when I was staying in the hotel in Raleigh. The days the girls were gone were long and boring. I was used to being around people. I liked that.

Now I was alone.

“You’re right. Tell everyone hi for me.”

We hung up and I went to my couch and sat, looking out the window. I had a great view of the city from my spot, perfect for unwinding after a long day.

It would get easier. It had to. I’d adjust to this as I had everything else. I hated sharing a dorm my freshman year after never sharing a bedroom growing up, but after a few weeks it wasn’t so bad, and I ended up missing my roommate the next year.

I could host a dinner party or something as soon as I got more settled. Maybe the Pride would come, although I wasn’t technically a qualifying member of their group. I could invite people from the office. Coworkers made great friends since you already spent so much time together. It was better to like them than treat them like people you were forced to see.

Yeah, once my place was put together, I’d organize something.

Until then … I was on my own.

Unless.

I stood and peeked through the peephole in my door to the hallway. Had Jason moved in yet? Was his family still here?

There was only one way to find out, but I didn’t want to walk over empty-handed and beg him to get dinner with me. I stepped back and leaned against the wall. I could order a little extra pizza. Offer to share with him.

Before I could chicken out, I grabbed my phone and found the closest pizza place.

Thirty minutes later, I was armed with two boxes of ooey-gooey goodness. I crossed the hall and knocked on his door. There were a few minutes of silence, and I’d almost given up when he swung it open wearing only a pair of workout shorts.

The body I thought I knew—the one of a teenager—was long gone. This was all man. Broader. Thicker. Muscles that I once found impressive had swollen to three times their size. He was huge. Ripped.

“Taylor?”

I swallowed and met his eyes with zero dignity left. He was smirking, and I almost threw the pizzas in his face.

“I …” should run.

He leaned against the door frame, folding his arms and making all those muscles twist and bulge in new ways. “You have pizza?”

I nodded.

“Are you wanting to share it?”

My eyes trailed up his too large to be real-life biceps, and I nodded again.

“Come on in.” He stepped to the side, and I walked into his apartment. It was immaculate. Everything was perfectly in place like it had been staged by professionals.

I spun around, and he took the boxes from me. “How?”

He cocked his head. “What?”

“Your apartment? When did you move in?”

“The movers finished up yesterday.”

Movers. Right. Cause he was fancy and had people that could put his life together for him. “It looks really nice.”

“Thanks.” He set the boxes down and pulled two plates from a cabinet without even hesitating. How did he already know where things were? Why did I feel like I was falling apart and he was perfection personified?

He led me to his dining room table and sat, leaving the chair next to him pulled out a bit.