THE APARTMENT WE SHARE

Chicago didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat. If anyone ever tells you that moving is “the start of an exciting new chapter,” do yourself a favor and spit right in their annoyingly optimistic face. Moving isn’t a fresh start. It’s standing in the middle of a stranger’s apartment with a suitcase that weighs as much as a juvenile hippopotamus, realizing your entire life has just attempted a backflip and landed face-first in a puddle.

My suitcases hit the hardwood floor with a heavy thud. I threw out a hand to keep from walking straight into the doorframe, then froze. Everything inside me went cold, and my eyes nearly popped out of my head.

Standing directly in front of me, right in the middle of what was supposed to be—at least according to the lease—my apartment, was a half-naked guy.

Just a couple of hours earlier, everything had been going exactly according to my flawless plan.

Anyone who’s ever moved to a new city knows it’s basically an extreme survival challenge. But I, Dayan Bright, happen to be a planning expert. I didn’t just pack two weeks in advance—I made a checklist, vacuum-sealed half my belongings, and got to the airport so early I practically memorized the departure board. Moving from Seattle was supposed to be my victory lap.

Sitting on the plane, staring at the selfie of me and my boyfriend, Max, smiling from my phone screen, I’d been certain everything was finally going to work out. This move would bring the warmth back into our relationship. We’d finally get to see each other more often than once every two months. Long-distance relationships weren’t exactly known for being easy.

The second the plane touched down, I practically sprinted for the exit. I still had to catch a cab, unpack in my new apartment, meet up with Max... and, if I got really lucky, find something to eat somewhere in between.

The moment I spotted a yellow cab outside the terminal, I tightened my grip on my suitcase handles and picked up the pace. A woman with an impressively questionable haircut and a tiny dog had clearly set her sights on the same cab, but I beat her to it. She glared after it as we pulled away, carrying me toward my new home.

I pulled out my phone and called Max. The line rang... and rang... and rang. I was beginning to think he wasn’t going to answer when his voice finally came through.

“Max, I’m almost there.”

“Oh, nice. How was the flight?” I could hear the rapid tapping of his keyboard in the background. Typical. Buried in schoolwork as usual.

“Really smooth. I even managed to get some sleep. I’m going to get settled, unpack a bit, and then I’ll come see you.”

“Dayan... are you sure about this apartment?” There was that familiar hint of a lecture in his voice. “Rental sites are crawling with scammers these days. Just be careful. The last thing we need is another mess to deal with.”

“Oh, come on.” I rolled my eyes as the city blurred past outside the window.

As annoying as he could be, I hated creating problems for anyone, so I’d gone over the lease at least ten times before signing it. Everything had checked out.

The cab pulled into a cozy residential complex with a gated entrance, cafés lining the ground floor, and playgrounds tucked between the buildings. I’d somehow managed to rent a two-bedroom apartment for an unbelievably low price. Maybe I’d rescued a colony of stray cats in a past life and karma had finally decided to pay me back.

Or so I thought.

The moment I punched the code into the electronic lock and stepped inside, I knew something was off. The apartment smelled... distinctly masculine. Cologne. Fresh, expensive cologne. That was odd. I dragged my suitcases into the spacious living room.

I could’ve told myself the landlord had stopped by before I arrived to make sure everything was in order. That would’ve explained the cologne.

The pair of men’s jeans draped over the living room couch? Not so much. A sinking feeling settled in my stomach as I realized my picture-perfect move was about to go spectacularly off the rails.

And that’s exactly what happened. Footsteps echoed from somewhere down the hall. I turned my head—and my jaw practically hit the floor.

A guy strolled out of the bathroom as if he owned the place, casually whistling to himself. He hadn’t even noticed me. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of boxer briefs slung low on his hips. A towel hung from his hands as he lazily dried his dark, dripping hair, sending droplets of water onto the hardwood floor.

“What the hell?” I managed, my voice already trembling with anger.

He froze.

Slowly lowering the towel, he revealed a lean, muscular torso covered in tattoos. I couldn’t even begin to count the piercings scattered across his face—they seemed to be everywhere they possibly could be. There was even one through his nipple.

“I asked you...” I took a slow breath, trying very hard not to lose it. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my apartment?”

Tattoo Guy looked from the front door to my suitcase, then back at the door again.

“How did you get into my apartment?” he asked, staring at me like he was some A-list celebrity and I was an unhinged fan who’d broken into his house.

"Your apartment?” I nearly choked. “In case you somehow missed it, I rented this place. I have a reservation, I have the access code, and I’m about two seconds away from calling the cops to have you thrown out.”

A short, humorless laugh escaped him, and something inside me snapped. He didn’t look embarrassed in the slightest. If anything, he looked amused.

“The cops? Seriously?” He sauntered toward the middle of the room, and I instinctively took a step back. Beneath the scent of expensive cologne lingered the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke. “Listen, lady, I don’t know what kind of reservation you’ve got, but I’ve been here since eight this morning. And I’m not moving out just because some princess with a rolling suitcase decided this apartment belongs to her.”

We argued for the next ten minutes, shoving our phones in each other’s faces, each displaying the exact same booking confirmation. I could feel the pressure building inside me like an old kettle about to whistle. Finally, I’d had enough of going in circles and did what I should’ve done from the start.

“Hello,” I said the moment the landlord finally answered. “I’m calling from Apartment 140 at Avenue Park. I just arrived, and there’s some random guy here insisting he lives here too. Could you please explain what’s going on?”

I put the call on speaker, one hundred percent convinced the arrogant jerk was about to be kicked out along with all his stuff.

Instead, I listened as the elderly landlord stumbled through one apology after another before finally admitting the truth. The booking system had glitched. It had rented the same apartment to both of us. And since Mr. Alex Brody had checked in first...

“Alex Brody.” The guy flashed a smug grin and jerked a thumb at himself. “Pleasure to meet you, lady. There’s the door.”

My world cracked into a thousand tiny pieces. My arm slowly dropped to my side, and I almost let go of my phone. Welcome to Chicago. I kept my eyes fixed on the floor because I already knew exactly what his face looked like. Smug. God, what an asshole.

Without a word, I grabbed my suitcases. The anger drained out of me, leaving behind nothing but a dull, heavy sense of hopelessness.

Where was I supposed to go? Right now. In a city where I didn’t know anyone. I pictured calling Max and explaining that I’d ended up homeless because of a booking error. I already knew what his response would be.

Somehow, it’d still be my fault. He’d call it poor planning. We’d end up fighting again, just like we always did, and then we’d spend days not speaking to each other. So much for fixing our relationship. The thought hit me so hard my eyes filled with tears before I could stop them.

Tattoo Guy hadn’t moved. He just stood there, watching me in silence, looking entirely too pleased with how things had turned out. I wanted to punch him square in the nose. At least then I’d have somewhere to spend the night. Adjusting my grip on the suitcase handles, I took a shaky breath and headed for the door.

“Hey.”

His voice stopped me just as my hand closed around the doorknob.

“Wait. ”

I turned around. He looked... different. The smug satisfaction was gone from his gray eyes, replaced by something that looked suspiciously like pity. I didn’t need his pity.

“There are two bedrooms,” he said with a shrug. “And the kitchen’s decent. We could just split the apartment.”

I looked him up and down skeptically. Between the tattoos and all the metal in his face, he wasn’t exactly screaming trustworthy. God only knew what he did for a living. What if he was a drug dealer? Or a stoner who’d leave the place reeking of weed? What if there was a different girl sleeping here every night?

And then there was Max.

“No,” I said flatly. “I’m not living with... you.”

Alex leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. I couldn’t help noticing the muscles in his forearms tense.

“So you judge people by their looks?”

“No. It’s just...”

“Just what?” A crooked grin tugged at his lips. “‘What if he’s a junkie? Or a player?’”

He smirked.

“Am I close?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. Alex let out a long sigh and shook his head. Apparently, I wasn’t the first person to make that assumption.

“I’m just trying to help,” he said with another shrug. “Trust me, you don’t pass up a place like this in this neighborhood. It took me a month to find it. You’re probably a student, right? You could use the extra money. We’d split the rent.”

That made me hesitate. He wasn’t wrong. I’d spent weeks refreshing rental listings before I finally found this apartment. Walking away now could mean spending who knew how long searching for another place.

Unless...

I pulled out my phone again and quickly texted Max. Maybe there was still a chance.

Dayan: Max, are you absolutely sure I can’t stay with you?

His reply came almost instantly.

Max: We’ve already talked about this, Dayan. You know I need space to study and prepare for my exams. Please don’t make this any more complicated.

I let out a quiet sigh, staring at the screen. He had a point. I couldn’t just dump my problems on him out of nowhere. Besides, his apartment was on the opposite side of the city from campus.

My gaze drifted from my suitcases to the empty apartment... and finally to Alex. In the end, I didn’t really have a choice.

“Fine,” I said, the word coming out like I was signing my own death warrant. “We have a deal. But if I see so much as a single joint or one random girl spending the night here...”

Alex laughed so hard his eyes watered. He wiped them with the back of his hand, then flashed me a bright, infuriatingly handsome grin.

“Got it, got it.”

He crossed the room in a few long strides. I had to tilt my head back just to meet his eyes.

“Now let’s get your suitcases inside, lady.”

He picked up my luggage as though it weighed nothing and carried it toward the bedroom on the left, which was apparently still empty.

“My name isn’t lady,” I called after him. “It’s Dayan!”

“Nice to meet you, Dayan.”

Alex turned around, my impossibly heavy suitcases hanging effortlessly from his hands, and winked.

“Here’s hoping we survive living together.”