Before You: Standalone Contemporary Romance (2 page)

I scented the air as I placed the key on the kitchen counter, thankful it didn’t smell like old socks and stale pizza – I didn’t want to be dealing with that crap while packing up an entire apartment that wasn’t mine. The air did however seem a little stuffy so I walked over to the window and slid it open, looking down at the busy street as I attempted to get my bearings.

This was my first time in Chicago, so all I had was a tourist’s knowledge of the area. All I could really see was the street, tall buildings and a big park, but from what Google maps told me, I wasn’t far away from the Chicago River.

I stepped away from the window, turning my attention back to the apartment. There were three doors that all looked the same – polished wood. Dave had said that his room was the one next to the bathroom. So, which door was the bathroom?

Figuring I’d just have to wing it, I went to the middle door and pushed it open, finding a simple room with a bed and clothes strewn about the place with the shelves stacked and overstuffed with papers and books and everything else Dave had chosen to stick there. I knew I’d guessed right when I saw some mail on the dresser for Dave, as well as a couple of photos stuck up on his mirror of our family in happier times, and of him with his friends. I smiled as I looked over them, touching the family photo fondly. Taking in a deep breath, I suppressed the urge to remember and moved on to the other photos. There were people in them I’d never seen before. In most of them, they were out drinking, or at a party of some sort. One of them showed a blonde girl laughing her ass off as Dave licked the side of her face, and a tall, incredibly attractive dark haired guy stood not far from them looking straight faced but amused. Reaching out, I picked up a few other photos. These were taken whilst traveling and showed Dave in his hiking gear with a video camera at the ready, or sitting with some kids and laughing. There was another photo of him and a few other crewmembers, and I saw that hot guy again. I wondered if he was André the roommate. If he was, André was definitely on the lickable side...

Putting the photos back where I got them, I went out into the living area to get my bag, and take stock of the work I had ahead of me. I’d taken enough time off work to pack up the apartment before the movers came on Monday morning then I flew back that same day. I figured that would be enough time to get everything done without busting my ass too much. However, that meant I needed somewhere to sleep, and I’d be damned if I was taking the couch when there was a perfectly good bed in my brother’s room. However, my first order of business would be to change the sheets before I slept in it. I loved my brother and all, but god only knew what he’d been doing on that bed before he left for wherever the hell he took off to.

Figuring the linen cupboard was in the bathroom, I took a chance with the other two doors to see if I could guess two for two correctly. Really, it didn’t matter if I got the door wrong – no one was there to see me, and I had to go into André’s room at some point to pack it all up. I just felt a little strange about entering the private space of some guy I’d never met before.

A nervousness flitted about in my stomach as I reached my hand out to open the door. The moment it swung open, my eyes went wide and my breath caught in my chest. This wasn’t the bathroom. It was André’s room. And wow. It was obvious he was a photographer.

Where the rest of the apartment was bare, André’s room was covered with pictures – all the walls, from ceiling to floor. Black and whites with bursts of color, different print sizes, but each and every one of them was...beautiful.

I was drawn in, my eyes hungry to see all the places this man I’d never met and didn’t know had been. It was as if I was getting to know him by what he chose to put on his wall. And from what I saw, his mind was a kaleidoscope of beauty and sorrow. I felt a darkness in him – a loneliness that rang loudly in the hollowness of my own. They spoke to me. They told me stories. And I took my time, listening to every one, drinking the beautiful melancholy into my soul.

Some photos were like Dave’s and showed friends and good times, but most of them were artistic shots of landscapes, animals, people in war torn countries, dilapidated buildings, homeless people...

I didn’t know how long I spent looking at them. I just knew that the emotion of them all was sweeping over me, pricking at my eyes and running down my cheeks. My hand covered my mouth as I saw a sickly child clinging to an old dog, his big brown eyes looking into the camera lens showing no expression at all. It hurt my heart to see that boy, trapped in the existence that was forced upon him. I couldn’t stop myself from crying. Looking at all the photos somehow made me feel connected to the people in them and the man who took them. I began to think that he must have an incredibly sensitive soul to be able to capture so much emotion in a single frame. I was in absolute awe.

I couldn’t wait to meet him...

An accented voice broke through my quiet wonder. “Who are you? What are you doing?” he demanded.

I whipped my head around quickly, practically jumping out of my skin with the surprise of someone else in the apartment. The guy from the photos – the guy who took these photos – André, stood in the doorway to his room, and he didn’t look very happy to find me in his personal space.

I froze and stood there staring at him, unable to move or speak.

I was stuck.

Breathe...

André was tall, like absurdly tall. And built – he filled the entire doorframe. His green eyes seemed to glow somehow, set against the deep tan of his skin and his messy golden brown hair. He had possibly a week’s worth of facial hair that looked obscenely enticing to my fingertips as it softly coated his strong jaw. The photos of him didn’t do him justice. He was probably the most stunning man I’d ever seen in real life. Even though he looked incredibly angry, he was still gorgeous. My mouth hung open. I couldn’t even speak to explain who I was.

Breathe...

His eye narrowed. He was waiting for me to explain. I began to stammer, still unable to find my words.

Shaking.

“I...I...um...I.”

Before I knew what was happening, his strong hand closed around my upper arm, and I was being dragged through the apartment toward the front door.

“Go and squat somewhere else,” he growled as he opened the door and flung me into the hallway, slamming the door after me. I was so shocked that I stood there for moment, my mouth open, my eyes blinking, before I came to my senses and began to bang on the door.

“Wait! Let me back in, my stuff is in there!”

He opened the door again and threw my bag on the ground next to me, a stormy look on his face as he muttered something under his breath in a language I didn’t understand but thought it sounded a lot like German.

“Wait!” I yelled again, slapping my hand against the door to stop him from closing it. “I’m Dave’s sister. He told me to come here.”

He paused for a moment, eyeing me suspiciously. “Dave doesn’t have a sister. He has a brother.”

“No. He has a sister – Willa – Will for short.”

In response, he slammed and locked the door, leaving me in the hallway, essentially homeless.

What an asshole!

I gave the door a swift kick and told him as much. “Asshole!” I kicked it again, wishing I still had the key with me. “Wait until I tell Dave you kicked his little sister out onto the street – he’ll beat your sorry ass!” I didn’t know what came over me. Normally, I would never yell a threat at some guy I’d only just met – I’d never normally threaten anyone at all – but I had nowhere else to go. I needed to get back in there.

The door swung open again, revealing him standing in front of me with a cellphone pressed to his ear. He gave me a look that suggested he didn’t think my brother could beat him up if he tried, and he probably couldn’t – André had a good head of height, and at least an extra twenty pounds of muscle on my brother.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he held his finger up to silence me, so I folded my arms and looked at him with my best aggravated expression plastered across my face.

Why were the hottest guys always the biggest jerks? And why did I always find myself so damn attracted to them? It was probably because I knew they wouldn’t stick around. Life was less complicated when relationships were fleeting.

My eyes strayed from his eyes and began to drift over the toned lines of his muscular body. I literally had to force myself to keep my eyes from gluing to the hard curve of his bicep as he held the phone to his ear.

Eyes. Focus on the eyes.

“We got evacuated,” he stated, obviously talking to the person on the other end of the phone call. He kept his eyes on mine, but lowered his hand to his hip as he stood there looking annoyed, and obscenely sexy – even though his expression was hard as his jaw ticked.

He listened for a moment, made a couple of non-committal sounds then handed the phone to me.

“Dave,” he informed me as I took it with a shaking hand. I’d never felt as though someone hated me so much at first sight before. His expression was positively stormy and there was something about the energy coming off him. It made me feel tiny even though I was five nine and not that tiny at all.

“He-Hello,” I said in a small voice as I pressed the phone to my ear.

My brother sighed down the line. “He found you in his room? Jesus, Will, he doesn’t let
anyone
in there.”

“Well, I didn’t know that! Besides, I wasn’t snooping – I was looking for your linen cupboard.”

“It’s in the bathroom.”

“That’s what I thought, but all the doors look the damn same. I got the wrong one...”

“Jesus,” he said again, sounding exasperated. “Listen, he’s pissed. You should’ve just shut the damn door and moved on.”

“How was I supposed to pack it up if I wasn’t allowed in there, then? You asked me to come here, Dave, and now your German roommate hates me.” I said, turning away from André and speaking in an almost whisper. André was standing in the doorway still listening in on the conversation. I glanced back at him for a moment. “Did you at least explain to him why I’m here?” I looked André in the eye to see his reaction, and I swear I saw his eyes soften a little, although I couldn’t really tell, he looked past me down the hallway when the elevator opened and let a girl with bottle blonde hair off. She looked a little familiar as she lifted her hand and waved. He nodded once. I watched the exchange and could immediately tell there’d been something between them – she wanted more – he didn’t want anything at all. I was good at reading people. I was good at being the one who nodded politely. I never wanted anything either.

My brother’s flustered sigh pulled me back to the reason I was standing in the hall. “Listen, I’m sorry he freaked out when he saw you. I should have left a message for him, but I hadn’t gotten around to it yet. I fucked up.” I heard him cover the phone and say something to someone else. “Hey, I have to go. They’re calling us to board the plane. Just...put me back on to André. I’ll explain what’s going on.”

I handed André back his cell and said, “He wants to talk to you.”

André’s green eyes landed on mine again as he listened and made a few noises before saying a simple, “You have my word.” Then he disconnected the call and stepped back from the door, jerking his head to the side to indicate I could go inside.

Giving him a small smile, I picked up my bag and went inside. “About before. I was looking for the bathroom and your photos – they’re beautiful, I mean, really, stunningly beautiful.”

He folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head to the side slightly as if assessing me like an animal would.

I went on, “Perhaps we can start over? I’m Willa, Dave’s sister.” I held my hand out to him, expecting him to be civil and take it.

All he did was flick his gaze to my offered hand then return it to my eyes, unmoving. “I’ll pack my stuff. You pack Dave’s. I’ll find somewhere else to live once we get to LA.” He turned and picked up his own bags before pausing. “Just stay the fuck out of my room.” Then he walked through his door and slammed it shut behind him, causing me to jump for the second time in the last fifteen minutes.

“Asshole,” I muttered under my breath, hating that I found someone so rude so beautiful, while also hating that his art had tricked me into thinking he might be also be beautiful in his soul. So far, his soul seemed quite ugly to me, and nothing like mine at all. I’d read him wrong. It was unsettling.

Holding back emotions of self-pity, I went into the bathroom and got some clean sheets then flopped on top of Dave’s bed before putting my headphones on and turning up the music so I could pretend I was anywhere but here. If today was any indicator, the next few days were going to be very uncomfortable. I couldn’t wait to get home.

––––––––

W
hen I woke the next morning, the apartment seemed empty. Honestly, I hoped that André had left for the day so I wouldn’t have to see him again and feel like I was invading his space when I was the one who’d traveled all this way to help him and Dave out. It wasn’t some kind of holiday to me.

With my stomach nagging me for food, I went to kitchen and opened the refrigerator, hoping to find something edible inside. I’d totally skipped dinner because I fell asleep after being confronted by André’s terrible attitude. The fact I’d traveled hours across country didn’t help much either.

I let out a sigh when I saw the shelves of the fridge contained nothing more than a tub of something that I thought was once chow mien, a mangled stick of butter, and beer.

Of course there was beer...

It was German beer too.

How original.

Taking the old chow mien container out of the fridge, I dropped it in the trash then moved to the cupboards. They didn’t produce anything more appetizing than the science experiment from the fridge, so I figured I needed to take a trip to the grocery store if I was ever going to have a meal here.

Heading into Dave’s room, I opened my bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and a fitted burgundy sweater. Outside, was dim and a drizzle ran down the window panes in tiny rivulets.