It looks tiny, but the rent isn’t bad.
I sigh. Usually apartment hunting is a lot of fun. New places are always so filled with possibility. But this time, they all seem drab and boring. I know it isn’t the pictures. They’re perfectly decent places to live. The problem is, I hate the thought of leaving.
I dip my spoon in the peanut butter again. This isn’t my home. It’s Cody’s. And he’s been perfectly sweet and chivalrous by letting me stay. I’m imposing on his hospitality. I’m well enough, I can get around on my own just fine, and I have a job. There’s no reason for me to keep making this wonderful man sleep on his own couch. It’s ridiculous.
The doorknob wiggles and turns. I sit up, wondering why Cody is home.
The door opens, and a woman walks in.
I know instantly it’s Jennifer. She has a classic resting bitch face that would make Vivien Leigh jealous. And who else would have a key to Cody’s house?
Oh fuck, she’s breaking in when she thinks no one is home. Oh, hell no.
I push the blanket off my legs so it’s clear I’m only half-dressed, and mess up my curls. It takes another second for her to notice me, and her eyes widen.
She has straight brown hair with caramel highlights that are too perfect to be natural. Her makeup is very practiced—thick eyeliner and dark lips, every bit of it flawless, if a little heavy. She’s wearing a beige blouse tucked into a dark pencil skirt and, I have to admit, very cute leopard-print heels.
“Excuse me,” she says, walking down the short hallway. “Who the fuck are you?”
I lick my spoon. Any thoughts I had of being nice to her flee instantly. “I’m Clover. Who the fuck are you?”
“Clover?” she asks.
I smile at her as she looks me up and down, and stay relaxed, as if I totally belong here.
“Why are you here?” she asks.
“Actually, the question is, why are you here?” I ask. “Somehow I don’t think Cody is going to be pleased to find out you’re breaking into his house.”
“I am not breaking in,” she says.
I roll my eyes. “Does he know you’re here? Because I’ll just call him and find out, if you want.” I reach for my phone.
Her lips pinch together in a thin line. God, she’s unpleasant looking. I can see why some men might consider her attractive—she has good features—but her awful personality ruined it within the first five seconds.
“No, you don’t need to call him,” she says. “I only came by to get some things I left here.”
I scratch the back of my leg to call attention to the fact that they’re bare. I hope she can tell I’m wearing Cody’s shirt. Her eyes tighten.
This is deliciously fun.
“I’m pretty sure Cody threw your shit away,” I say.
“Listen, I don’t know who you are, or why the fuck you’re here, but this is none of your business,” she says.
“Actually, it’s absolutely my business,” I say. “You shouldn’t be here. When a man leaves you, the mature thing to do is give his key back, not use it to sneak into his house when he’s at work.” I take another lick of peanut butter.
“He won’t give a shit about you, you know,” she says, crossing her arms. “You’re just his attempt to get over me. But all he really cares about is his practice. Take my advice, honey. Get away while you can. Don’t let him waste two years of your life.”
That really pisses me off. “Maybe you just weren’t the right woman for him.”
“And you think you are?” she asks. “Hey, if you’re that naive, there’s nothing I can do about it. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Or you could have turned off the ice-cold bitch act for five minutes and at least tried to be what he needed,” I say. “I don’t need warnings from the spurned ex-girlfriend. I’m doing just fine, thank you very much.”
She shoots me an absolutely murderous glare. Man, she hates me, through and through. Normally that would bother me deeply, but in this case the feeling is more or