Landlord Wars(27)

“No pity.” There was something undeniably appealing about her holding to her convictions.

“And one more thing,” she said, one curvy hip cocked. “My sister will be staying now and then, so don’t give me a hard time about it.”

“Whatever you and Jack work out is fine with me.”

She turned for her apartment, and I was about to head up to mine, forcing myself to remain cool and not look back, when I heard her say, “Oh, I forgot…”

I looked back, and the view was worth it.

“Touch my chocolate again,” she said, fire in her eyes, “and you’ll lose a digit.”

A vision of a jerry-rigged finger guillotine inside her chocolate cupboard flashed before my eyes, and I smiled.

I liked this girl.





Chapter Thirteen





Sophia





If there was one person I didn’t trust to witness my mother’s house, it was Max Burrows. But not only had my rich, arrogant landlord seen the place, he hadn’t run away in horror.

Which was shocking.

Max had been polite to my mom and even escorted me home. It was more than I could say for Paul, or anyone else, for that matter.

My sister was my best friend, and that was because no one else had stuck around once they saw where I lived.

So Max wasn’t a total ass. A mild ass, an incremental ass, but not a total ass. Time would tell if the rest of his critical, food-stealing behavior improved.

“Elise, you can come over,” I told my sister over the phone, as I tended the small plants on my bedroom windowsill.

“Landlord Devil gone?”

“No, but he’s got virtual reality goggles on, and he and Jack are oblivious to everything going on around them. They’re bumping into furniture and shouting at the TV, being nuisances. Anyway, I’m not worried about you staying the night, because Max and I came to a weird truce.”

My sister made a loud hoot, and I pulled the phone away from my ear. “Soph, I’m so happy you’re staying there and that you worked things out.”

“Me too.” And I really was. Returning home would have been traumatic. Even my mom had sounded relieved when I told her my new place was going to work out after all. It probably had more to do with her not needing to remove items from my old bedroom, but still. She was happy, and I was even happier.

“You sure you’re okay with me living at the apartment?” I asked. “What about your issues with my roommate?”

“I’ve decided to rise above,” she said. “I won’t let your roommate get to me.”

Famous last words, I thought, but kept it to myself. Elise wasn’t known for her self-control. “Bring your school stuff. I’ve got work to do as well.”

An hour later, I opened the front door for my sister. Her hair was down, and she was wearing shorts that showed off her toned legs, with a long-sleeved shirt tucked in the front. “What’s with the lipstick?” I asked.

Her eyes darted to the side as she set her book tote next to the kitchen peninsula. “What? I always wear lipstick. You’re the one who shuns makeup.”

Okay, that was true. But her lipstick looked freshly applied, and she never put on makeup to hang out with me. My Elise radar went off.

We headed into the kitchen, and I handed her an orange-flavored soda water before we grazed on chips, salsa, and tiny Oreos she’d pulled from her bag.

Elise leaned on the counter, studying the guys in the living room. They were standing, wearing VR goggles and headphones, and staring in the direction of the TV, moving around jerkily like they were fending off monsters. “They really can’t hear us?”

I tossed a bite-size Oreo in my mouth. “Nope.”

Jack waved his arms in the air, and then he made a parkour move that nearly knocked over a lamp on the end table. He scrambled to his feet.

Max gripped his shoulder, as if to say, “Great job,” and I shook my head slowly. These knuckleheads were going to break something.

Elise waved a chip in their direction. “You’re going to need new furniture after they’re done. How old did you say these specimens of masculinity are?”

I looked up, mentally calculating. “I think Jack is twenty-nine. Max is the same age.”

Elise nodded. “So, old enough to not destroy furniture.”

Max nearly fell over the couch, and I winced. “Apparently not.”

Elise nodded. “Good, good. At least we agree.”

We headed into my room, where Elise proceeded to lounge on my bed while visually going through my closet and picking apart ninety percent of my wardrobe over the next hour. “Those side-zip trousers have to go.” She eyed them critically. “They’re way too big on you now.”

“I realize that,” I said, making space in one of the closet dresser drawers for Elise to leave some things at my place, “but I need work clothes. I can’t afford to replace my entire closet.” I stood and looked down my body. “Apparently, I was eating my emotions while living with Mom. As soon as I knew I was moving, I started shedding pounds without even trying. And that’s on a steady chocolate diet.”

“You weren’t overweight when you lived with us, but I know what you mean. You shrank.”

“Thanks for the lovely description.”