Breakaway

2. I have to admit, I was expecting a guy.

Ryan 

The glass and steel exterior of a stunning, modern low-rise apartment building glinted before me in the dwindling evening sunlight. It was just before seven and I was parked on the street, certain that I had to be mistaken.

This can't be right, can it? Doing a double-take, I checked the address again: 2550 Auburn Lane. This was the building that Isabelle and I drove by on our way to yoga. We had always fantasized about living in it, but the units for rent were owned privately and were always way beyond our price range. Based on the building, the place itself was sure to be livable. Well, more than livable, given that this was a luxury apartment complex.

Only one question mark remained: the roommate. After living in the dorms for two years, I was no stranger to bad roommates; Isabelle and I met when we were grouped in a 4-girl dorm room freshman year, which included another girl who stole my clothes, wore them in front of me, and then lied about it to my face. It was a rough situation, and the school had refused to do anything about it.

At least in this scenario, I was the one in control over who I lived with, rather than the faceless, bureaucratic campus housing authority.

I coasted down the entry ramp and circled the underground parking structure, straining to see in the dim light as I tried to locate a vacant spot. Most of the stalls were numbered to correspond with their respective condo units and the ones that weren't numbered were already occupied. I hated these parking structures; they always made me feel claustrophobic. The sooner I could park and get upstairs, the better.

As I rounded the corner, a lone empty stall appeared up ahead on the right. I had just turned my signal light on when a shiny white new-model truck approached from the other direction, quickly swooping in and taking the spot before I could even blink. I beeped my horn at the driver, who just stuck his hand out and waved me off. Asshole.

He parked and got out of the truck, jogging away. I had to admit, he was a hot asshole. Athletic build, with broad shoulders and a tall frame; I was a sucker for tall guys. Too bad this one just screwed me over for that parking spot, making me late for my meeting. I hoped that my lateness wouldn't reflect poorly on me to the potential roommate. If this fell through, I was out of options.

*

Ethan

The condo doorbell chimed a few minutes past seven, letting me know the guy who texted about the ad had arrived. I buzzed him up, noting that punctuality wasn't his strong suit. One strike against him already.

I'd received a few inquiries about my spare room for rent but so far, I hadn't found anyone I was willing to live with. I was in no hurry. Technically, I didn't need anyone to help me carry the costs of the mortgage, so I could afford to be picky. And I needed to be picky, after what happened with my last roommate.

Moments later, someone rapped on the door. I walked to the door, took a deep breath, and prayed. Please don't be a weird, balding middle-aged dude in a Garfield t-shirt like last time. While he may have technically been taking college courses, he wasn't what I had in mind when I specified 'college student' in the ad.

On the other side of the door, I found just the opposite; there was a cute, curvy brunette standing before me, wearing ripped jeans and a tight white t-shirt. The same brunette whose spot I just poached in the basement parkade. What the hell?

Momentarily taken aback, I scrambled for something to say. "You?"

"You!" She narrowed her doe-like brown eyes.

"Are you here because I stole your parking spot?" I fought back the sheepish grin emerging across my face.

"No, I'm here about the roommate ad." She looked at me like I was losing my mind. "But why did you do that, anyway? Don't you have your own reserved spot?"