“What’s your grandson’s name? Maybe I know him.”
“Wolfgang, but I call him Wolfie.”
I chuckle. “Love it.”
“How about I give him a call and tell him you’ll be coming by to check out the house? When can you stop by?”
“I guess as soon as I leave here.”
“Sounds good. He should be home later today.”
Something heavy crashes on the floor, earning our attention. The bottom of the box Louis and Jack were trying to move gave out, and now the karaoke machine is in two parts.
“What have you done?” Ophelia strides in their direction, ready to give them a good old tongue-lashing.
I shake my head, trying not to laugh at the scene. There’s never a dull moment when the trio is involved, that’s for sure. I’ll have to remind Ophelia to call her grandson later. I’ve noticed she’s become forgetful, and she’s also been confusing names.
My chest becomes tight. I don’t want to think about losing Ophelia. It was hard enough when Grandpa died. I can’t bear the thought of her leaving me too.
* * *
TROY
Karma is a bitch. My stunt in front of Zuko’s Diner earned me Charlie’s prompt retaliation. She published a scathing article about me, but it backfired royally. She was destroyed on social media, #canceled being used everywhere in association with her and the paper. Even the dean got involved and forced the article to be retracted immediately.
I should feel vindicated, but oddly, I don’t. I was an ass to her in the coffee shop. I should have apologized for being so late. I also shouldn’t have splashed her on purpose. Now all I have is an annoying sense of guilt swirling in my chest.
There’s nothing worse nowadays than to become a social pariah. Keyboard warriors and their digital pitchforks are a bunch of fucking bullies. But man, that article… she didn’t hold back. And it was all bullshit. I’m not an entitled rich boy who doesn’t respect their teammates. Yes, I do practice extreme sports, but they aren’t life-threatening. At least not all of them. Besides, I know what I’m doing.
Damn it. I really shouldn’t feel bad about what happened to her. She dug her own grave.
I’ve just gotten out of the shower when I see there’s a missed call from Grandma. She left a voice mail. I listen to it immediately because you never know what kind of shenanigans she’s involved in. Mom thought we wouldn’t have to worry about Grandma when she decided to move in at Golden Oaks. Yeah, right.
There’s a lot of noise in the background, so I can barely understand what she’s saying. It doesn’t help that Thing One and Thing Two—aka her boyfriends—are talking over her. They sound drunk, which means they probably are. What I can make out from their slurred speeches is that Sailor Moon is going to come by the house later to check out a room to rent.
I rub my forehead. Knowing Grandma, I can’t simply discard her message as nonsensical. She’s probably decided to rent a room to some stranger. But she wouldn’t let my friends move in. Typical Ophelia Holland move. I’m not even annoyed. That’s how Grandma rolls. I hope the girl isn’t a fucking groupie. The last thing I want is to room with a football fan.
I doubt the girl’s name is Sailor Moon, but I can’t get hold of Grandma to ask for more details, such as when she’s coming by.
I glance at the clock. I was planning to head to the grocery store now because I’ll be too lazy to go later.
Ah fuck it. I’ll just leave a message at the front door in case “Sailor Moon” decides to stop by before I get back.
5
CHARLIE
I go check out Ophelia’s house straight from Golden Oaks, which unfortunately means I’m still wearing my Sailor Moon costume. I wasn’t planning on stopping by anywhere after the party, but it would be insane to go home and change considering the drive. I hope her grandson doesn’t think I’m a lunatic.
I park in front of the Spanish-style house and stare at the construction for a minute. It’s in a nice area, quiet, and the best part, it’s only five minutes away from campus. It’s closer to school than my old place was. And Ophelia wasn’t kidding when she said the house was big. Judging from the outside, it must have at least four bedrooms. I wonder why Wolfie never got any roommates.
Maybe he likes to live alone. Shit. Am I imposing? It’s Ophelia’s house and she can do whatever she wants, but the last thing I want is to feel unwelcome.
I fix the skirt of my dress first to make sure my ass isn’t showing and then stride toward the front door. Taking a deep breath, I look for the doorbell. My eyes catch a note taped next to it. It’s addressed to Sailor Moon.
What the hell? How does he know? I groan internally. Ophelia must have said something. I don’t know if I should be relieved or mortified.
I grab the folded paper and read the note.
Hey, sorry I missed you. I had to run a quick errand. Feel free to go in and check out the house. The key is under the welcome mat. I’ll be back shortly.
P.S. In case you’re not Sailor Moon but a regular burglar, I have hidden cameras everywhere. Steal from me, and your ass is mine.
A chuckle escapes my lips. I think Wolfie and I will get along fabulously.
I retrieve the key from under the mat and let myself in. A faint old-house smell reaches my nose, and as I walk farther inside, it mixes with a delicious lemony aftershave scent. Goose bumps break out on my arms. I’m a sucker for good smells.
The living room is large, but even so, the L-shaped leather couch almost looks too big for the space. There’s also a brand-new flat-screen TV that takes up most of the wall, and tucked neatly in the storage unit below it, I spot several video game consoles. I shake my head. Boys and their toys.
I veer for the kitchen, and my excitement grows by leaps and bounds. It’s been remodeled recently with top-of-the-line appliances. I like to bake when I have the time, but my old kitchen offered me zero motivation. It was small and too old. This is heaven.
It’s a two-story house, and I quickly head to the second floor. I wish Wolfie had told me which room would be mine if I decide to stay, but he’s not here, so that means I can explore the entire house.
I open the first door I come to, which leads to a big, airy room with large windows. It’s almost empty except for some boxes that are stacked up in a corner. I walk in, guessing this one would be my room. There’s an en suite bathroom, and the walk-in closet would fit all my clothes and costumes. This is a dream-come-true bedroom. I really have to make sure Wolfie likes me because I’m already in love with this place.
I continue my perusal of the second floor. The next door I try opens to a room that’s currently being used as a home gym. There’s a bench press, several dumbbell weights, elastic bands, and a treadmill. Apparently, Wolfie likes to work out. I wonder if he’ll let me use this space too. I have a gym membership, but if I go there twice a week, I consider it a win. Working out from home would be much easier.
There’s another door at the end of the hallway. That must be Wolfie’s bedroom. I debate opening the door to peer inside, but then I remember his threat on the note to the potential burglar. He said there were several hidden cameras in the house. Was that a bluff or the truth?
The sound of the front door opening makes the decision for me. Curiosity killed the cat, but that won’t happen today.
“Hello? Sailor Moon, are you still here?” Wolfie’s baritone voice echoes from downstairs.
“Yeah, I’m coming down.”
Suddenly, butterflies take residence in my stomach. I’m in love with this house, and I want Ophelia’s grandson to like me. When I reach the living room, he’s in the kitchen, putting away groceries in the fridge. His back is to me, and he’s wearing a hoodie, so I can’t really see his face.
“This house is amazing,” I say as I approach the kitchen counter.
“Yeah, it’s not too bad.”
He turns then, and my stomach bottoms out.
Troy fucking Alexander is standing in front of me.<
br />
His eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. My brain is going a hundred miles an hour.
This can’t be happening. It must be a sick joke. Troy can’t possibly be Ophelia’s grandson.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks finally, narrowing his eyes.
“I came to see about the room,” I reply automatically. I’m still in shock at Troy’s presence here.
His eyes take in my ensemble. “You’re Sailor Moon?”
Like an idiot, I drop my chin and look at my clothes for a second. “I guess I am for today. She told me your name was Wolfgang.”
“That’s my middle name. She never calls me Troy.” He threads his fingers through his long bangs, pushing them back. “I can’t believe this. How the hell do you know my grandmother?”
“She lives in Golden Oaks. My grandfather was also a resident before he passed. I’ve known Ophelia since she moved in. I still visit every weekend.”
His eyebrows arch. “Why?”
“Why?” My voice rises. “Do I need a reason to visit friends?”
Troy stares at me with his mouth hanging open. He doesn’t speak for several beats, but I bet his mind is whirling just like mine is.
“You’re friends with my grandmother?”
“Yes. Is that a surprise to you? She’s awesome.”
His expression softens a tad, and I notice a faint twitch of his lips. “Yeah, she is.”
“Well, I guess I should go.”
I turn toward the front door. There’s no sense in lingering. Troy would never agree to me moving in. I can’t even blame the guy, not after the shitty article I wrote about him.
Mom was right. Sometimes it’s better to just forget stuff and move on.
“Wait. What did you think?” he asks, making me pause.
Slowly, I turn back and look at him. “Are you asking me about the house?”
“Yeah. Do you like it?”
I don’t detect sarcasm in his tone, and his eyes are devoid of deceit.
“I love it.”
“Yeah. It’s pretty nice. Why do you need to rent a room?”
I let out a heavy sigh. “There was a small fire incident where I used to live. No major damage, but the house was a dump to begin with. Now my landlord has to fix all the problems before we can move back in.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Well, if you like the house, I suppose you can move in. That is, if you don’t mind sharing it with me.”
My jaw drops to the floor. “Are you serious?”
He shrugs in a boyish way, making my heart skip a beat.
“Sure. I can’t simply say no. Grandma likes you. That counts for something. Plus, you’re wearing that.” He pulls his cell phone from his back pocket and snaps a picture. “I can’t send Sailor Moon away.”
I cross my arms over my chest, feeling uber self-conscious. “Why did you take my picture?”
“Leverage.” He shoves his phone back in his pocket.
I roll my eyes. “Dude, do you think I’m embarrassed to be wearing a costume? I LARP, for crying out loud.”
“You what?” His eyebrows shoot to the heavens.
“Never mind.” I step closer to the kitchen counter. “Okay, here’s the gist. If you’re saying I can move in only to get back at me for writing that article, just tell me now. I don’t have time to engage in childish games.”
“Wait. Do you think this is all part of a retaliation plan?”
“I’m not discounting anything.”
He scoffs. “Girl, you’re too conceited for your own good. I don’t need to retaliate. Besides, your article has already been pulled down, and you’re currently the most hated person on campus. I think that’s plenty.”
I ball my hands into fists, trying to hide how much his offhanded comment aggravates me. Several choice words get lodged in my throat, but I bite my tongue and keep them bottled inside. I need a place to live, and this is the best I’ll get.
“Most hated person, huh?”
He shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Do you want the room or not?”
“I’m assuming I’d get the one with the boxes.”
“Yep.”
“I do want it, but if you’re not doing this as some kind of sick joke, then why?”
“Unlike you, I don’t opt for below-the-belt retribution.”
“Oh my God. You’re so full of….” I trail off, almost forgetting that I can’t antagonize Troy.
“So full of what?” He quirks an eyebrow, smirking at me.
I purse my lips, hating fate for putting me in this situation. “You know what? Forget it. When can I move in?”
“Whenever you want. We have an away game next weekend, so I’ll be gone Friday.”
I don’t move from my spot as I keep watching Troy through slits, trying to sniff out the lie. But either he has a perfect poker face or he’s truly moved on from our feud. If that’s the case, he’s a better person than I am.
Anger is still simmering in my gut. I don’t care about all the bullies who came out to defend his honor. I’m pissed that he got the dean involved, which resulted in my article being removed from the paper’s site.
What happened to free fucking speech?
6
TROY
Coach Clarkson went hard on us during training, so now we’re licking our wounds at Tailgaters, a college bar two blocks from my place. I just told Andreas and Danny about my new roommate, and now they’re staring at me with matching stunned expressions.
“You’re joking, right?” Andreas finally snaps out of his stupor.
I take a sip of my beer before I reply, “Nope. It turns out Charlie is best friends with my grandmother. I didn’t think it was worth upsetting her over that girl.”
“Yeah, but she was horrible to you,” Danny argues. “What if she’s a bitch 24-7?”
“Then I’ll kick her out, and Grandma won’t be able to say a thing. Besides, she needs this room badly. She’ll be on her best behavior.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to behave.” Andreas raises an eyebrow.
“I’m not going to be an ass on purpose.”
He shrugs. “Whatevs. It’d be the easiest way to get rid of her.”
“Nah. She’ll move back to her old place once the landlord finishes renovations.”
I sense the lie as soon as it leaves my mouth. Charlie said her old place was a dump. She’ll never move out of her own accord. But I won’t resort to douche tactics. Maybe it won’t be as bad as everyone thinks.
Or maybe you’re just thinking with your dick, Troy. She sure looked hot in that Sailor Moon costume. Fuck.
My cock stirs in my jeans as I remember Charlie’s getup. It’s not helping my case that I took a picture of her… and I might have jerked off to it as well.
“Uh-oh. Troy has gotten the look,” Danny pipes up, bringing me back to the present.
My erection is now straining against my jeans, but if I try to find a better sitting position, the guys will immediately know about my situation.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I take a large gulp of my beer, hoping the alcohol will give me some relief.
“Oh yeah. The look. I think our friend is not telling us the whole story. Come on, Troy. Spill it already. Why did you agree to let Miss Stick Up Her Ass move in with you?”
I shake my head. “There’s nothing going on. I’m just helping her out.”
Andreas watches me through slits. “Right.” He turns his attention to his phone, and after a moment, a victorious grin splits his face. “Aha. Mystery solved.”
“What?” Danny leans closer to look at Andreas’s screen. “Oh. You didn’t say Charlie was hot.”
“She’s not hot. She photographs well.” I chug the rest of my beer, dropping the glass back down with excessive force. “I’m going home.”
“We just got here.” Danny glances at me.
Andreas elbows his arm. “He has a reason to hurry back. There’s a se
xy nerd waiting for him.”
I get up and throw some money on the table. “You can be a real dick sometimes, Andy.”
With a knowing smile, he leans back in the chair, linking his fingers behind his head. “Don’t hate me because I’m right.”
“Whatever.”
I stride out of the bar, ignoring the hungry glances I receive from the girls I pass. If they’re looking for cock fun, Andreas and Danny will gladly provide that. I love sports, but banging as many chicks as I can is not one I care for. That’s Andreas’s department. I’m not a saint, of course. I do hook up; I just don’t make a game out of it.
When I turn on my street, I don’t see a moving truck. Charlie told me she’d bring all her stuff today. Maybe she’s done moving in. We don’t have a garage, and to my annoyance, Charlie took my usual spot in front of the house. Grinding my teeth, I drive a little farther until I find another parking space. The walk back to the house serves to turn my irritation down a notch. If I tell her not to park in my usual space, it’d be a dick move. Besides, it’s not reserved for me. Any of our neighbors can park there. They simply don’t out of courtesy.
I’m looking forward to chilling out and playing a video game, but when I walk into the house, I realize that’s not happening tonight. Charlie didn’t simply move in. She took over my entire living room. There are a bunch of boxes spread in the area, some still shut but others with spilling contents. Loud music is pouring from her room upstairs.
“Charlie?” I call out.
I hear her hurried footsteps on the wooden floor, and then she appears at the top of the stairs wearing an oversize T-shirt and nothing else that I can see. Her legs are long, tan, and lean, and they’re making my life seriously difficult at the moment.
Fuck me.
“Hi, Troy. Sorry about the mess. I didn’t know you’d be home early.” She runs down the stairs, pulling her hair back in a ponytail. The action lifts her shirt, revealing tiny jean shorts that barely cover her sweet ass.
Heart Stopper: Rebels of Rushmore Book One Page 3
