I walk to the back of the tailgate to start unloading some of my bags.
“Hey, Stacey.” Chad jogs over and envelops me in a hug.
I welcome the comfort my brother provides. He might have been a huge pain in my ass, growing up, but when it comes to him just being a brother, I hit the jackpot with him.
“You cut your hair.” I rub my hand over his crew cut, making him duck away.
“Thought I’d make it shorter than usual before workouts start for the season.”
“Good. Last year, your whole caveman look of not cutting your hair during the baseball season was a little much.”
“You know how the guys are. Superstitious to the core. I’ll forgo a cut and a shave for as long as we have runs on the board.”
With a laugh, I sling my duffel bag over my shoulder and grab two more.
Chad grabs the biggest box in the truck, and we lock up the rest. We carry everything into the building and up the narrow stairs into his place—my new home—and then we step into a small entryway.
The kitchen is to our left and only big enough for two people to stand in. There’s a counter with a cutout window that leads to the living room. A worn-out black leather couch sits up against the wall, and a TV hangs only six feet away on the other side of the room.
It’s a three-bedroom apartment that really should be a two-bedroom, but they converted the dining area into a sleeping space, which I learned is typical. Bay Area living should be called shoebox living.
“You’ll take Rodney’s old room.” He points toward the doorway that’s just off the living room. “Only downfall is, it doesn’t have a closet. And there’s only one bathroom, so we all share it.”
“I’ve shared a bathroom with you my entire life. As long as there’s no porn in there, I’m cool.”
“No porn, I swear. Just don’t ask to borrow anyone’s phone. I can’t vouch for their viewing habits.” He points to the bathroom door, which is closed with the light shining from underneath, showing someone is inside. “Bathroom is there, my room is next to it, and Wes’s is at the end of the hall.”
I stare at Wes’s door and notice his room is adjacent to mine. If these walls are as thin as Chad says, I hope that doesn’t mean I’ll have to hear him getting frisky.
“Does Wes have a girlfriend? I’m just wondering if I should invest in noise-canceling headphones.”
“Not that I know of,” Chad answers noncommittally, and my shoulders relax.
It shouldn’t matter to me if Wes is dating anyone or not. I mean, it’s been three years since we’ve seen each other.
While Chad comes home for holidays and summer breaks, Wes stays in Berkeley since his parents sold their home after he graduated high school. I can’t imagine not having my childhood home to come back to.
Chad taps me on the shoulder, bringing my attention back to him. We turn back to my room. I stare at the full-size bed pushed up against the wall that’s painted white with a poster of Scarlett Johansson as Black Widow. The mattress is bare, and there’s a creak in the wood floor next to the bed.
“It’s perfect.” I place my bag on the floor.
Chad goes to put my box on the bed, but I usher him to halt. “Except Scarlett has to go, which makes me wonder what Rodney used to do on this mattress, so let’s not put any of my things on top.”
Chad makes a gagging sound. “I didn’t think of that. Rodney might have moved out to live with his girl, but trust me when I say, they never got busy in here. I would have heard it because these walls are thin. Still, good thinking.” He puts the box on the floor. “You should fumigate that thing.”
“I brought three mattress covers, a pillow top, and two sets of sheets. I think I’ll be protected,” I say.
Chad raises his brow in curiosity.
I laugh. “Explaining the crazy thoughts that run through my brain on a daily basis would probably frighten you. Just know, I planned ahead on this one.”
I’m smiling as we walk out of my room. That smile is instantly wiped away when I hear the deep bellow of a man coming from inside the bathroom.
“Is Squid here?” a man’s baritone calls out from behind the bathroom door.
While the voice throws me off, there’s only one man who calls me that.
Wes.
“Yeah, and your ass had better be covered,” Chad yells back.
“I hate that nickname,” I grunt, which makes my brother shrug.
“Like Wes is ever going to change.” Chad nudges me as he leaves me standing in the living room and walks toward the kitchen.
I give a half-smile as my attention is pulled toward the bathroom door being unlocked.
As the door opens, steam billows out of the room in a thick plume. Wes appears, wrapped in a towel from the waist down. I take a moment to let the guy standing in front of me sink in.
Gone is the lean-cut teenager who used to tease me about my love of knee-high plaid socks. In his place is a man—a dark-haired, light-eyed, steel-chested Adonis of a man. Wide shoulders, bulging biceps, and a ripped torso with a smattering of hair to complete the package.
Wes will never change? Yeah. Right.
My brother has never made a falser statement in his entire life.
Wesley Knight is all grown up.
His dark curls are still dripping wet, droplets streaming down his chest and over the rough planes of his abs, skirting toward the edge of his towel. He runs his fingers through his thick, dark hair, making his biceps curl with the action.
I can feel my jaw dislodging from my face as I gawk. Yes, I’m staring. It’s rude as all hell, but damn … when did Wes become … this?
And if I’m not mistaken, he does a double take when he sees me as well. His gaze travels over my wide eyes and my parted lips and down to my lifted chest as I hold my breath. His brows curve when his attention goes to the sliver of skin between my shirt and jeans, and then he shakes his head quickly, as if realizing he was staring.
Can’t blame him. I’m gawking like a tweenager at a BTS concert.
“Put on a shirt, dickweed,” Chad chastises from the kitchen.
I use Chad’s voice as a slap in the face to get myself together. This is Wes, my brother’s best friend and the bane of my existence from when I was eight to eighteen.
“As we already discussed, this is my house, and if Stacey’s going to live here, she’s going to see me walking around without a shirt,” Wes says with a crinkle around his eyes. He winks as he struts past me.
Chad walks back into the living room, holding a beer. “Back off, fucker.”
“I think she’s seen a man’s naked body by now,” Wesley shouts back.
“That’s my sister you’re talking about.”
“Come on. It’s just Squid. I’m not going to try to seduce her.” His words are stated like the idea grosses him out. “Besides, she’s just here to get her diploma and get the hell out of town, so she can meet some Ivy League douche and run off to have his douche babies.”
“Glad to see you’re still the same pain in the ass,” I say, defensively crossing my arms. “For the record, yes, I have seen a man naked. Many.”
Chad chokes on his beer, and I ignore him, taking the time to stare Wesley square in his hazel greens. “And while I’m here to get my degree, I will not be leaving with an Ivy League douche. I happen to like my men rough, rugged, and street-smart over book-smart.”