Apartment 365
"...That's really great, Beau," William, my boyfriend, says over the phone. He sounds busy, judging by the constant rustling of papers on his desk. William is a professor at the University of Cambridge, which means he's away in London most of the year and only comes down when the semester ends. We don't see much of each other, but somehow, we make it work.
"I take it you're busy?" I ask, hearing more shifting.
"I am, I'm sorry," he replies. "It's been hectic over here. But hey, I can't wait to see you this Friday, alright?"
"Of course," I say with a smile, phone cradled between my ear and shoulder. "You can finally check out my new place."
We exchange goodbyes and hang up. It's a quiet Wednesday night, and I'm alone in my apartment. I've only just moved in, and while I have work acquaintances, we're not past the small talk stage yet. I feel it—this city is big, and I am small in it.
My stomach growls, reminding me that I skipped dinner. I had an early lunch at work and nothing else since. Too lazy to cook and even worse at it, I opt to order a pizza. Once that's done, I settle onto the couch, laptop on my lap, about to resume my series—until there's a knock at the door.
It's too soon for the delivery. Curious, I peek through the peephole. A blonde woman is chatting with someone down the hall, then turns back and knocks again. I quickly run a hand through my hair, check my clothes, and open the door.
"Hi," she greets with a bright smile.
"Hi," I say, confused.
She notices and quickly extends a hand. I shake it.
"Sorry—this might be a little weird," she says. "I'm Darien, from apartment 365. I saw you moving in last week. Meant to introduce myself sooner."
"Oh, don't worry about it," I say. "I'm Beau."
"Well, Beau, I was just on my way to my friend's new restaurant—it opened a few days ago. You should come! As a late welcome to the building."
That explains the elegant red cocktail dress. I glance down at myself—skinny jeans, a white spaghetti-strap top, flats. I feel underdressed just standing next to her.
"I'd love to, but... I just ordered pizza," I say sheepishly.
Darien waves it off. "That's okay. I'm determined to make at least one friend in this stupid building. You're coming. You're in New York now—you need friends."
She's right. I'd just complained to William last night about being lonely. It'd be stupid to pass up a chance to connect.
"I mean... I'm not really dressed for anything formal."
"You look fine," she insists, stepping closer. I catch the rich scent of her floral perfume and freeze as she gently undoes my bun, her fingers brushing mine, her breast accidentally grazing me. I hold my breath. "There. Now you're good to go."
Before I can process it, she takes my hand, and we're off to the elevator.
—
The restaurant is nestled behind a fence lined with cascading philodendrons. The terrace is glowing under string lights, the hum of conversation rising beneath them. When we arrive at the table, two men and three women light up at Darien's appearance.
"Took you long enough," one woman says, sipping white wine.
"What treat did you bring us today?" a tattooed blond man in a half-unbuttoned suit asks, eyeing me.
Darien rolls her eyes and places a hand on my back. "Guys, this is Beau—she's new in my building. Beau, this is Jesica, Lorey, Colson, Alec, and Nes." She pulls out a chair, and we sit.
I try to keep up with who's who, but I know I'll forget most of their names by the end of the night.
"So, Beau," Colson—the blonde one—grins. "You got a beau?"
I'm used to the wordplay. I set my glass down. "I do."
He scrunches his face. "That's a pity."
"Forgive him," a familiar voice says. I turn—and it's Harry. Our third encounter.
He slides into the chair next to me, his eyes finding mine. "Colson knows no boundaries."
"Harry, this is—" Darien begins, but he interrupts.
"Beau," he says, taking my hand in his cold, ring-covered one. I shiver at the touch. "We've met before, haven't we?"
I pull my hand back, clearing my throat, looking away from his intense stare. "Yes. He helped me move in."
Darien nods in understanding, and the group dives into conversation, leaving Harry and me in a small bubble of silence.
"You date?" he asks eventually, nodding toward Colson's earlier question. A busboy fills his wineglass.
"I do," I say. "His name's William. We've been together for four years."
Harry nods, a dry scoff escaping him. "Dating, in this day and age? What a bore."
"I take it you don't date?" I ask, already guessing the answer.
"Dating," he says flatly, "is out of my vocabulary."
His green eyes flick toward mine, unreadable, before the waiter interrupts.
We eat. The group flirts and banters, and one redhead—Nes, I think—keeps giving me pointed looks. I ignore her. Harry doesn't speak to me again for the rest of the night. I feel out of place.
When it's over, they all head to another bar for drinks, but I'm not interested. I have work tomorrow. I thank Darien.
"Are you sure?" she asks.
I nod. "Thank you. It was... nice."
"Better than staying in with pizza?" she teases.
Honestly, I might've had more fun at home.
"I'm going too," Harry suddenly announces.
"Off to see Hailey?" Darien grimaces. Harry ignores her.
"Maybe you can give Beau a ride home. You're headed that way."
"It's fine—I can call an Uber—"
"She's right," Harry interrupts. "I'll drive you."
"I don't want to be a burden—"
"Stop resisting," he says, buttoning his suit. "I don't beg."
He walks off, expecting me to follow. I glance at Darien, who gives a knowing smile.
"Don't take his aloofness personally. He's a dick in general," she says, kissing both my cheeks. "See you later."
Downstairs, he's waiting by a sleek black car. I climb in beside him. It's spotless. The leather is cool, the scent a mix of vanilla and tobacco. I thank him, but he doesn't respond.
The ride is silent. Uncomfortable. I grip the seatbelt every time we stop at a red light. He was so playful the first time we met—now he's cold. Distant. I don't ask why. I don't know him well enough.
We drive into the parking garage and wind up to the fourth level. He parks, shuts off the car. We walk, footsteps echoing through the empty space. The elevator ride is silent too—until he speaks.
"Seems we're back where we started."
I glance at him. "Only this time, we met up differently."
"Yet we keep bumping into each other," he replies. "One might assume stalking is involved."
"Are you stalking me?" I tease.
He looks me up and down, green eyes burning. As the doors open, he answers, "One might assume so."
We walk down the hall.
"Are you stalking me?" he tosses back.
I reach my door and turn. "One might assume so."
He smirks faintly, unlocking his door—368.
"Thanks for the ride," I say.
"You will be," he replies, eyes dark. Then he shuts the door.
—
Alycia Debnam Carey as Darien Loughrey
Bella Thorne as Nes Faye
Vanessa Morgan as Lorey Barnes
Teresa Palmer as Jesica Heath
Machine Gun Kelly as Colson Gray
Matthew Daddario as Alec Vance
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen3h.Co