She was dreading this.
Over and over, the thought echoed in her mind as she stood outside his door, her hand hovering hesitantly near the wood. She didn't want to knock. She didn't want to see him. He had already warned her to stay away. But what other choice did she have?
It was either this or stay trapped in this disgusting state for hours—and hell no, she wasn't doing that.
Still, she couldn't help but wonder why he seemed to dislike her so much right off the bat. It wasn't like they'd ever met before. Sure, she could be a handful. She'd been suspended—and nearly expelled—in middle school. High school had been a much smoother ride, but none of that warranted such instant hostility.
Heck, she didn't even know the guy's name.
And, if she was being honest with herself—though she'd rather rot than ever admit it—he was everything her type. Unfortunately.
Too bad he was also grumpy and insufferably uptight. She could tell the type instantly; her sister was the same way. Meanwhile, she was the polar opposite—a ball of sunshine in every sense. Why anyone would choose to live such a sad, boring life was beyond her.
Not to worry, though. She'd save him from his misery... assuming she could save herself from hers first.
She sighed, glancing down at herself. Sweat clung to her skin, dust coated her clothes, and the day's grime made her feel utterly disgusting. To top it off, the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving her stranded in the dark. She wasn't exactly a fan of the dark and the longer she stared holes at his door the more convinced she was to just bloody knock.
Summoning every ounce of courage, she clutched her toiletry bag and spare clothes and knocked on the door.
He answered almost immediately, his tall frame filling the doorway. He was dressed in a black sleeveless shirt and joggers, his wavy hair brushing against his stubbled jaw. He arched a brow, the expression on his face so irritable it could have killed a lesser person on the spot.
"Hi," she squeaked, suddenly hyper-aware of just how tall he was. At 5'9", she considered herself tall, but he towered over her like a mountain. He had to be at least 6'6".
"I'm pretty sure I told you I didn't want to see your face again," he sneered, leaning against the doorframe.
She shuffled awkwardly. "Well… yes, you did, but—"
"But?" he interrupted, his tone dripping with impatience.
"Well…" She giggled nervously.
"Are you lost?" He gritted his teeth, his jaw visibly tightening.
"No! No, I'm not lost, I just… my house…" she began, only for him to cut her off again.
"Is on the other side. Yes, I know. Now, if you don't have anything important to say—" He started to close the door, but she quickly stuck her hand out, stopping it.
"Will you stop cutting me off and just listen?" she snapped, her frustration finally bubbling over.
"Hmm, let me think… no," he replied, trying to push the door closed again.
"What is your problem?" she yelled, glaring up at him.
"My problem? You're in my damn house!" he yelled back, his voice louder than hers.
"Well, fair point, but—"
"No buts. Just leave," he snapped.
"Can I borrow your bathroom?" she blurted out, crossing her arms. "The plumbing in the house you rented to me doesn't work. Ta-da! That's why I'm here, looking like I got hit by a bus." She plastered on a sarcastic grin.
"And you think I'm going to pity you and let you in?" he asked, arching an incredulous brow.
"Ugh! Can you be nice for five minutes? I didn't ask for a kidney!"
"Maybe if you were a little less noisy and a lot more polite, I'd consider it," he said, his tone sharp.
The two of them stood there in a tense staring contest until he let out an exasperated sigh. "You're not going to leave, are you?"
"Nope. Not until I've had a shower," she said, grinning.
"Fine." He sighed heavily. "I'll have Tom return your rent tomorrow because I'll go mad if I have to spend another minute with you."
"Thanks!" she chirped, ignoring his glare as he reluctantly stepped aside.
Inside, his house was the complete opposite of his grumpy demeanor—warm, modern, and impeccably clean, with soft hues of cream, peach, and beige.
"Nice place," she said, unable to keep the admiration out of her voice.
"I didn't ask," he snapped, leading her down a pristine white hallway.
"Geez, ever heard of 'thank you'?" she muttered under her breath, admiring the expensive art lining the walls.
He stopped at the end of the hallway, opening the door to a bathroom that looked like it belonged in a luxury hotel.
"Oh my God," she gasped. "Why does your house look like heaven and mine looks like hell?"
"Because you rented yours for five hundred dollars," he replied flatly.
Her cheeks burned in embarrassment. Of course, he'd know—he owned the property.
"Well, thanks. Now, a girl needs her privacy," she said, shooing him out. He turned and slammed the door behind him without another word.
The shower was glorious, and as she stepped out, she noticed a pair of slippers by the door and a strict note warning her not to drip water on the floor.
"Geez, talk about a neat freak," she muttered, slipping them on and making her way to the living room, where he was seated, typing furiously on his laptop.
"Are you done?" he asked without looking up, startling her.
She nodded. "Thank you for the bathroom."
"You were loud," he said quietly, his voice tinged with something she couldn't quite place. Her face heated instantly.
"I'll be going now," she said, eager to escape.
"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," he said darkly.
"Asshole," she mouthed as she opened the door.
"I heard that," he drawled, his tone smug, as the door slammed shut behind her.