by Nina West
~ ~ ~ ~
“This isn’t gonna take long, is it?” Connor grumbles. Our heavy footfalls echo along the windowless corridor in the hotel’s employee-only area. The Wolf hotel chain may be ritzy, but they’ve definitely saved their building budget for the parts that guests actually see.
“I don’t know. She said she needs a signature. Shouldn’t be more than a minute.” I got a message from an admin this morning, asking me to come in and sign some payroll papers that somehow got messed up in my transfer. I shouldn’t be surprised. The guy handling my transfer in Indianapolis wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.
“A minute, my ass. Do you know how slow they work in here?”
“You really are a whiny little bitch when you’re hungry.”
“Warned you, didn’t I?” Connor pushes through the glass door marked Administration, and into an office as plain as a hospital waiting room—windowless and beige, the kind of place that makes me only too happy to be picking up trash out under the hot Florida sun. I’d hang myself if I had to sit in here all day.
“Look, if I don’t do this, I don’t get paid, and if I don’t get paid, you’re not gettin’ rent money. So shut the fuck up.” It hasn’t taken long for Connor and me to get into a groove, throwing insults back and forth like guys who’ve known each other for years instead of less than a day.
Connor walks up to the counter that runs the full length of the room, keeping Wolf’s various “white collar” office admin staff—payroll, finance, customer service—and the “blue collars”—housekeeping, kitchen scullery, and maintenance crew—separated. He slaps the little bell.
And we wait, listening to the medley of fingertips tapping on keys, phones ringing, a low buzz of voices, and occasional cough.
Not one head pops up from a cubicle.
“Told you. An hour,” he mutters, hitting the bell again, this time twice and harder. “And fix your laces while you’re at it. Doesn’t that drive you nuts?”
I glance down to see that one of my laces is indeed undone and dragging. “Actually, I didn’t even notice.” As I’m crouching to retie it, Connor bellows, loud enough to carry through the entire office, “Yo, Tatum! Can you help us out so we can go eat? You know how I get when I’m hungry.”
Fucking guy is going to get us both in shit, hollering like that.
“Would you be quiet? People are taking reservations in here!” a female whisper-hisses.
I stand to find a brunette on the other side of the counter. She’s wearing the standard-issue Wolf admin staff uniform, and my eyes can’t help but immediately veer downward to where the white blouse stretches across her tits.
When I lift my eyes again, I find her scowling at me.
It takes me a good five seconds before I realize that I recognize that scowl.
“Oh, shit.”
“I told you Ryan works here, didn’t I?” Connor’s grin says he damn well knows he didn’t mention that and he’s enjoying every second of this. “She’s the admin coordinator for the housekeeping division.”
Ryan looks completely different than she did this morning, no longer sweaty and flushed from a run. Her brunette hair is piled on top of her head, and her rich hazel eyes are hiding behind a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. She’s still not wearing an ounce of makeup, from what I can see.
“What do you want?” she snaps, but I don’t miss the blush crawling up her cheeks.
“Someone left a message about signing a payroll form so I could—”
“Jean! Crew guy is here for you.” Ryan turns and stalks away before I can finish, leaving me with my mouth open midsentence, staring at the way her hips swing in that tight purple skirt, her tiny waist making her ass look bigger than it actually is. Not that I mind an ass that I can fill my hands with.
I shake my head at Connor. “Dick. You could have warned me.”
“Hell no. Not after this morning. That was priceless, by the way.”
“I’ll bet. Anything else important you want to share with me?”
“Yeah. I’m fucking starving.”
I roll my eyes as a tiny, cute Asian girl appears. “Ronan Lyle?”
“That’s me. I got a call about paperwork?”
She sets a form in front of me. “I need you to fill this out.”
“Hey, Jean.” Connor rests his elbows on the counter and flashes her the same stupid smile he was using at the beach all morning. The one that got him four different phone numbers. “Big plans for the weekend?”
She returns his smile, dipping her head to hide behind a heavy black fringe of hair as she lists her itinerary, hour by hour it seems. I tune her out right after “sewing club” comes up and set to quickly filling out the form.
“What’s our address again?”
Connor recites and I fill it out, all while feeling Jean’s black eyes appraising me.
“So this is your new roommate?”
“Yeah. Why? What did Ryan say?”
“Nothing.” The expression on Jean’s face says Ryan said something and it wasn’t at all pleasant. She drops her voice. “She’s in a bad mood today.”
“I noticed. Something going on with the douche bag?” Obviously Connor doesn’t like Ryan’s boyfriend and doesn’t care who knows it.
She glances over her shoulder and then whispers, “I heard they broke up last night, but I’m not asking.”
Connor’s face fills with understanding. “No wonder she’s being such a bitch.” A little louder, “Hey, Ry!” When she doesn’t answer, he raises his voice. “Ryan Tatum! I know you can hear me! Come over here!”
The sound of sandals stomping along the tile floor announces her approach before she appears. And the look on her face....
Connor really doesn’t want to keep his skin today.
“Would you stop being an ass!” she hisses.
He ignores her tone. “What happened with David?”
I keep my head down, pretending not to listen as I fill out the rest of my form.
“Nothing.”
“You two broke up?”
“So what?”
“So... you should tell me these things.”
“Why? You don’t give a damn. And it’s none of your business.” She’s trying to play it cool, but the slight waver in her voice at the end betrays her. Whatever happened, it mustn’t have been pretty.
“Come on. Don’t be like that.” The ever-present humor in his voice fades a touch.
Her lips twist. “You want to talk about something? Fine. Let’s talk about our nudist roommate.”
A few heads pop up over the cubicle walls now, curious eyes taking in the voices. Jean stares at me with her mouth hanging open.
“You had to be there,” I explain with a shrug.
“I’ll bet.” Her gaze skims over the ink on my forearm. If it were any cooler outside, I’d have to cover that up with a long-sleeved shirt. Employee conduct manual, page four.
“Oh come on, that was funny. And besides,” Connor reaches up to seize my chin between his thumb and index finger, “how could you be so mean to this poor guy? He just had his heart ripped out by a girl. All he wants is to be loved. Can’t you show him some love?”
I slap his hand away.
Ryan’s hazel eyes shift to my face. She really does have pretty eyes. I’ll bet her smile would be pretty, too. If she even knows how to. To Connor, she says, “Stay out of my business. And go eat. You’re more annoying than usual.”
“Yeah! I’m trying!” He taps on the desk as he strolls away, a wordless gesture to hurry up.
Jean giggles like he’s said the funniest thing. I want to offer her a bib to keep the drool from her blouse. I slide the completed form over instead. “Anything else, or is this good?”
“No, you’re all set. Thanks for coming quickly.”
“That’s Ronan. He ‘comes quick.’ Tell all your friends.”
I wait until the door is shut behind us before I punch Connor in the shoulder. “There’s something wrong with you.
”
“Yeah, my impending starvation.”
I roll my eyes. “You and Ryan have a strange relationship.”
“What are you talking about? It’s totally normal.”
“I think she hates your guts.” And yet she still lives with him.
Connor smiles. “Maybe a little bit.”
I shake my head. “How old is she?”
“Twenty-five.”
“So she’s your twin?” Connor’s twenty-five, one year older than me. Wouldn’t put it past him not to tell me he has a twin.
“Nah. She’s actually my half-sister. I guess our dad was a little busy cheating on my mom that year.”
This is all starting to make sense. “No wonder you guys don’t look anything alike.”
“I only met her a few years ago. She was moving to Miami from Orlando and she needed a temporary place. My dad asked if she could stay here.” He shrugs. “I said sure, I didn’t care. And she hasn’t left yet. She stays out of my life, I stay out of hers. It works, for the most part.”
“That explains a lot.”
“Like?”
“Why you haven’t threatened to pound the shit out of me if I try to bang her.” Like I did to all my friends back home when they so much as glanced at my baby sister.
“You kidding? I want you to try something with her. Just let me be there to see it. It’ll be fun watching her kick you in the nuts.”
I sigh. “Something is seriously wrong with you.”
He’s distracted from giving a retort by another crew guy coming around the corner. “Yo, Baker! What’s up? This is Ronan. He’s new.”
The blond nods once my way. “Not much. Hey, did you read that e-mail about Alaska?”
Connor’s eyebrows rise in question.
“They want us there a week earlier.”
“Seriously? But that’s like... two weeks away, then.”
“I know. They said they’ll reimburse flight changes though.”
“I haven’t even booked my ticket yet.”
“What? You’re nuts!” Baker shakes his head. “I booked mine months ago. I’ll let you know what I move it to. We should fly up together.”
“Definitely. Hey, we’re heading for Chipotle right now. Want anything?”
“Nah, I’m good. But thanks. See you guys around.” He keeps going down the hall.
And I’m left with yet another surprise courtesy of my new roommate. “You’re going to Alaska?”
“Yeah. That new Wolf resort is opening up.”
I remember the intercompany memo that went out last fall, encouraging Wolf employees to apply for jobs at the new seasonal Wolf near Homer, Alaska. I didn’t even look at it. I mean, it’s Alaska. Who the fuck wants to go there?
Apparently Connor. And in two weeks, based on what these guys were just talking about. “How long are you gone for?”
“Five months.”
“Jesus. You are nuts.”
“What? Didn’t you ever go to camp?”
I burst out laughing.
“They’re putting the whole staff up in a village of cabins! And paying us better than what they’re paying here.”
“Yeah, it’s called danger pay, because you’re gonna get mauled by bears and cougars and shit.”
He waves it away. “This is a Wolf luxury resort, not some Ramada Inn. They’ll have all that sorted.”
“You’re gonna be bored.”
He grins. “You’re kidding me, right? How long were you pussy-whipped by your ex?”
“Four years,” I admit reluctantly. “Why does that matter?”
“Because have you not noticed the housekeeping staff that Wolf hires?”
“Of course I have.” Wolf is notorious for hiring young, attractive employees. I don’t know how they get away with it without any labor discrimination charges tossed their way.
“Well, all those Housekeeping girls are gonna be in cabins a stone’s throw away from me, all summer long. Stuck on a resort with nothing to do but fuck hot crew guys. The last thing I’m gonna be is bored.”
“Fair enough.” Maybe I should have opened that e-mail that went out. Had I known Tasha was going to dump me, I’d probably be going to Alaska, too. “Well... fuck.” I shake my head. “You could have told me.” Here I am, making a fast friend of Connor, and he’s leaving.
He shrugs. “You should see if they’re still hiring.”
“I just started here. They won’t let me go there.”
“Won’t know if you don’t ask.”
“I don’t know.”
“Suit yourself.” He chuckles. “You and my sister will have a great summer together.”
Chapter 3
Connor lingers at the door, watching me empty two grocery bags’ worth of food onto the counter. “You sure you don’t want to come? Someone will be selling a ticket outside.”
“Two hundred bucks to sit by myself at a concert? Nah, I’m good.” As much as I’d kill to see the X Ambassadors, that’s way too steep.
“’Kay. I’ll swing by to change and grab you when it’s done. That blonde from earlier texted me. She’s gonna meet us at the club later and she’s bringing a hot friend for you.”
“Hot by whose standards?” I ask around a sip of beer.
“Does it matter? Sherrie said she likes to suck dick. You gonna say no to that?”
Tasha loved to suck my dick.
My cock twitches with the memory, even if that memory is now laced with bitterness. Maybe a good blow job from another woman is what I need to get over her.
Connor nods toward the fridge. “Bottom shelf is yours.”
The lowest shelf, when I’m over six feet tall. “Shouldn’t Ryan take the bottom shelf?”
“If you wanna move Ryan’s shit, be my guest. I’ll be home in about three hours. You might not have fully bled out by then after she stabs you for touching her things.” With a slap against the wall and a “see you in a few,” he’s gone.
I take a long sip of my beer as I study the fridge, shaking my head at the middle shelf, which is clearly Ryan’s. Everything is neatly lined up and packed in glass containers. Fruit, vegetables, yogurt. Food groups that are sorely lacking from Connor’s shelf, which is basically beer, hot dogs, and ketchup.
The bottom shelf is on the lowest rung, leaving little room. I don’t need a lot of room, but this is ridiculous. She’s a good foot shorter than me. The shorter people get the lower shelves. That’s just the way it is. She’s going to have to learn to deal. And if she wants to yell at me about it?
Fine. So be it.
I take a big swig of my beer.
And then set to shifting things around.
~ ~ ~ ~
“Is that all you got?” I mutter, watching highlights of the Florida Panthers getting their asses handed to them by Boston. I guess I can’t say much—Indiana doesn’t even have an NHL team. Still, I can’t get behind a team in dead last.
I check the time for the hundredth time. It’s after eleven. I’m showered and dressed, and finishing off my fifth can of beer. This big, fluffy brown sectional may be the most comfortable thing I’ve ever sat in. If Connor doesn’t get back soon to drag me out, I’m not going anywhere tonight, no matter how hot this friend is. And based on the picture he texted me, she’s a solid ten. Though I’m reserving final judgment until I actually see her. Chicks are always doctoring their pictures.
Keys jangle in the hallway outside our door. A few seconds later, the door flies open and Ryan strolls in, arms laden with textbooks and bags. Her eyes skate over me as she kicks the door shut behind her, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Hey. You need help?” I offer, a tiny blip of regret stirring in the pit of my stomach as she heads for the kitchen. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the liberty to change things around without talking to her. Not until I smoothed over this morning’s debacle.
I actually don’t feel like getting yelled at again.
“No thanks,” she says curtly, dumping everything onto
the countertop.
I watch her as she opens the fridge.
And stops dead.
“Hey, I hope you don’t mind, but I swapped our things around, seeing as you’re shorter than me. I lifted the shelf though, so you have as much space as before.” After a lingering pause, I add, “Connor said you’d be okay with it.” I owe him one for not telling me about Ryan in the first place.
After another long moment of silence, she quietly sets to sliding her groceries onto her shelf. Not saying a word, but also not threatening bodily harm or yelling. I watch, because I can’t help myself. She’s wearing a pair of black leggings and her firm ass looks fantastic bent over in the fridge. My dick is starting to harden.
I sure as hell can’t let that start happening.
And I can’t let this tension go on, either. She can’t always be this big a bitch. We just got off on the wrong foot is all. Collecting my empty beer cans, I climb off the couch and make my way over to the kitchen to stack them in the case. “I’m sorry about this morning.”
I get only a small grunt in response as she rips the cardboard sleeves off her yogurt and snaps the little containers apart to line them up neatly in two rows.
“I picked up my own towels at Walmart after work. They’re gray, so they won’t get mixed up.”
“I doubt that would happen anyway. I don’t buy my towels from Walmart.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes at her snotty tone and instead turn my attention to the textbook on the counter. “You in school?”
“Yup.”
I flip open the cover. “For what?”
“My MBA.”
“That’s... exciting.” I pull my fingers away just in time, as she slaps the cover shut and collects the textbook along with the others. Hugging them to her chest, she grabs her purse and stalks toward her bedroom.
“Hey, hold up. Please?”
She slows with reluctance.
“This is dumb. Can we just start over?”
“Why?”
“Because we have to live together?”
She peers over her shoulder at me, her amber eyes flickering down. I’m ready for the club, in black pants and a baby-blue button-down that hugs my body. I don’t often dress in anything but jeans and a T-shirt, but when I do, I like to think I clean up well. “Did you really just break up with your girlfriend? Or was my brother talking out of his ass again?”
