Marco rolls his eyes and moves toward the front door. “Anyway. Thanks for talking me down off the ledge.”
I grin. “You better text us when she says yes.”
“Or after the celebration sex, anyway,” Luca adds with a grin.
Marco smirks. “So late-morning tomorrow then?”
“How about you?” I ask, turning to Luca, who’s still stuffing food in his mouth.
“What about me?”
“You got plans tonight too?”
“Not planning on dropping down on bended knee for anyone, if that’s what you’re asking,” Luca says. “But Scotty, Corey, and I are hitting the clubs if you wanna join us.”
“Nah. I’ve got an early shift tomorrow.”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Like you’d come anyway.”
“I could.”
“Doesn’t mean you will. Does it?” he says, redirecting his attention to the hockey highlights on the TV. “Maybe if you found a roommate you could have more of a social life…”
“I’m trying. But they’ve either got pets, or personal hygiene issues.”
I shudder at the memory of the barista who called by yesterday to look at the spare room. As soon as he walked in, the place was filled with the smell of coffee grounds and egg. I don’t even know how that’s possible, considering he looked freshly showered, but it was a clear no from me. “Thinking maybe I should just give up and live by myself.”
“And keep working OT to cover the mortgage? C’mon, G.”
“I know. It’s just slim pickings in the roommate market at the moment apparently.”
Marco and Luca share a knowing look, and my Spidey senses spark to life. “What?”
“Met the new firefighter at 101 yesterday,” Luca says. ‘They’ve just moved to town and have been staying in a hotel, but they’re looking for a roommate.”
I rub my chin. “Do I really want to live with another firefighter though?”
That earns me the middle finger from Marco. “Seriously? You can’t go wrong with another first responder. At least someone will likely always be here, and they’ll also understand your shift work commitments too.”
He’s got a point. “What do you know about him?”
Marco’s eyes widen and he goes to open his mouth but Luca gets in first. “Not much. Moved here from Iowa. New to the city. From what I’ve seen, Alex seems like good people.”
My brothers may give me shit for being an old man in a thirty-four-year-old’s body, but they’ve always had my back just as I’ve always had theirs.
And I do need a roommate. Not just someone to help cover the mortgage and stop me from turning into a workaholic hermit, but as much as I like living alone, it also sucks sometimes.
I’m happy with my life—even though it’s one where I work so much I barely get time to do anything except sleep. But it’s not permanent. Although I do have to remind myself that if I’m all work and no play at all, then I’ll never get a chance to find the good things, or be ready for them when my turn comes.
I sneak a glance at Luca who’s almost finished the bowl of food in his lap and is now licking his fingers clean. With Luca splitting his time between the firehouse, his condo, and my favorite armchair more often than not, I guess I’m not that alone. But I guess there’s no harm in just meeting this Alex to see if we click, right? Worse-case scenario, we don’t, and life goes on with the status quo. What have I got to lose?
After the guys have gone and with an hour to go before the Cubs game starts, I grab my phone and type out a text message.
Gio: Hey Alex. I’m Gio, Marco and Luca’s brother. They told me you’re looking for a room and passed on your number. Let me know if you’re still interested and want to come ’round for a look some time.
Alex: Hey. Definitely still interested. Anything is better than hearing my hotel room neighbors go at it AGAIN. Let me know when you can meet.
Gio: Well, I don’t want to disturb your Saturday night, so how about tomorrow morning?
Alex: Sounds like a plan. Send me the address, and I’ll see you then.
I do as asked and put my phone down. I have a good feeling about this. Marco and Luca may love to give me shit, but they wouldn’t steer me wrong when it came to a potential roommate. Gut feelings are often my first line of defense, so at least by meeting Alex in person, I can get a read on him and go from there.
The next morning, I’m sitting in my living room, coffee in hand, contemplating a day of cleaning and laundry before going to my parents’ place for our monthly lunch, when I hear a motorcycle rumbling outside my place.
Curiosity piqued, I make my way toward the front door, planning to discreetly check out what’s going on. Taking a look at the door camera screen in the entryway, I watch as the head-to-toe leather-clad rider hops off their bike and heads toward my porch. Frowning, I unlock the top drawer of the hall table and open it so that my sidearm gun is visible but obviously not in my hand. You can never be too careful. Then I swing the door open.
“Hi, I’m—” The stranger’s head dips down, looking behind me before their entire body jerks. Taking a quick step back, they put their hands up in the air in surrender. “Hey, man. I’m just here to look at the room! It’s me. Alex,” her high-pitched voice rushes out. Then again, I do have my gun in plain sight..
I freeze. And as I study my visitor, I might just have discovered a well-buried leather fetish I didn’t know I had because the way those tight leather pants cling to those shapely—definitely not male—legs has my body paying attention in entirely inappropriate ways.
My gaze slides up to curvy hips and waist, then over her rounded chest, and I stop breathing. Because by the time I lock eyes with her challenging ice-blue gaze, one thing is absolutely clear.
I’m an idiot.
And Alex is as far from a man as you can get.
3
Alex
I don’t think I’ve been more freaked out in my entire life than when Gio opened that door and his firearm was so openly displayed. Well, maybe that one time when Adam pushed me into the pig stall when we were eight after he’d just finished telling me how pigs eat humans, making me scream just as our pregnant sow, Bertha, decided to nuzzle my arm, looking like she was hungry and thought I’d make a good meal.
“Look,” I say, willing my heart to stop trying to jump out of my chest. “I’m not a criminal and I’m not armed. You can search me if you want. I swear. I’m just here to look at the room.”
“Shit,” he mutters, quickly slamming the drawer shut and locking it before turning his very apologetic gaze my way. “I’m sorry, okay? But in my defense, Marco and Luca never said you were a girl.”
I roll my eyes and rest my helmet on my jutted hip. “Seriously, what is it with people in this city thinking I have a dick? I’m a woman. Alex can be short for Alexandra too, you know. Although, I’m just an Alex.” Her hands go to the zip on her jacket. “But if you need me to prove it, just say the word. You don’t need to whip out your damn gun though.”