Ryan
I had a feeling that Ethan expected me to jump at his invitation to join their party—so I made a point not to. Of course I wanted to go, but I didn't want my new roommate to think I had the hots for him.
Even if, well, I kind of did.
I knew it was just a superficial attraction; I couldn't see myself actually liking a big-deal athlete on any sort of deeper, emotional level.
Maybe he would have some cute friends at the party to distract me. Friends that weren't hockey players. Friends that I didn't live with. A friend of my roommate would at least be a slightly more appropriate choice than my actual roommate.
After he left my room, I called Isabelle to tell her about the party and to ask her to come with me.
"Hey, Ryan! You're just on Bluetooth in my car in case this sounds weird or I lose you. All settled in?"
"Just about," I sighed. "It's been a long day, but I'm nearly done unpacking. Now that my furniture is assembled, I just have to fold and put away all my clothes."
"I'm sorry about all of that. I feel horrible about the apartment," she said in a sad little voice. Her guilt was palpable; I was sure she was more upset about the whole debacle than I was.
"Don't sweat it, Iz. Everything seems to have worked out okay. Not that I won't miss you, of course," I reassured her as I sorted through a pile of sweaters.
"I miss you, too. We still have to do sleepovers on the regular."
"Definitely," I said. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"
"Going out with Jake. Dinner and then some back to school party with his finance bros, I think. Why, what's going on tomorrow? Want to come to the party with me?"
"Oh, it's just that Ethan is having a party here. I thought you could come if you weren't busy. I think it's someone's birthday. Alex?"
"Axel?" Isabelle asked.
"Yeah, that's it. But if you have plans, it's okay."
She paused, but I got the sense that her mind was already made up. It would be out of character for Isabelle to turn out a party filled with hot, eligible athletes.
"You know what, I can reschedule with Jake."
"Really? You don't have to, Iz. It's not a big deal. I could find something else to do tomorrow night," I told her. "I just feel kind of weird being there without any friends of my own."
"No, it'll be fun. And it'll be a good icebreaker for you and your new roommate."
"Won't Jake be upset?"
He was a finance major who'd been chasing Isabelle for a while, now. Despite her easy breezy attitude, I wasn't certain he wouldn't take being ditched quite so lightly.
"Nah," she said. "He'll live."
*
After teaching two hot yoga classes at Nirvana Yoga Spa the following morning, I popped over to the spa size to use their rain shower and get ready. I took my time, wrapped in spa's fluffy white robe, while I dried my hair and put on makeup. The one downside to living with a guy was that I had to be fully dressed, all the time. Several days ago, I'd had to scamper upstairs quickly when Ethan came home unexpectedly as I was making tea, still wrapped in a towel. Awkward.
Afterward, Isabelle dragged me to the mall and held me hostage there until we found what she deemed the 'perfect' outfits. Perfect seemed to be a moving target, unfortunately, and this consumed most of our afternoon.
"How about this one?" I asked, holding up a pale pink tank top with a ruffled hem.
She wrinkled her nose. "Too matronly."
Matronly? It had a plunging V-neck that would most assuredly show an ample amount of cleavage. If this was matronly, I was a little worried about what kind of look we were aiming for tonight.
"This?" I held up a black spaghetti strap sundress that hit mid-calf. It was lightweight and silky, and I thought it was pretty.
"Perfect. If you're a nun out on the town."
"What exactly are we looking for?"
"I can't explain it. But I'll know it when I see it," she said confidently.
She flipped through the clothing racks, examining each item with a determined, critical eye. It was like a strange hybrid of Mission Impossible and Project Runway.
"This looks like it came straight out of Whoville. And this one looks 90s, but in a bad way. And this—just, why?" she shook her head in disgust at an offending shirt that was unworthy of further criticism.
I should have packed snacks. I had the feeling we'd be here awhile. And if Isabelle got hangry, we would really be in trouble.
"Jackpot!" she said, handing me a red crop top. "This would be perfect."
I cringed. Baring stomach wasn't within my comfort zone.
"How about something in the middle?" I suggested, holding up a similar tank that showed less skin. "This is cute."
"Ooh, I like that. Okay, you go try that on. We still have to find something for me."
I was wondering whether we would even finish shopping in time for the party, at this rate.
After a few more hours, we finally left armed with clothes that I hoped were on the classy side of sexy rather than the skanky side, but honestly, that was debatable.
By the time we returned to the condo, a few of Ethan's teammates were already over watching the baseball game in the living room. My god, were all the guys on this hockey team hot? How was that even statistically possible?
We did some quick introductions that I knew I was bound to forget because I was terrible with names: Smith (hipster cool, with dark hair and light eyes), Geoff (curly brown hair, all-American good looks), and Luca (black hair, piercing brown eyes). Then, I ushered Iz upstairs to my room so that we could get changed.
Since it was her life's goal to work in television broadcasting, Isabelle fancied herself an amateur makeup artist. She insisted on doing my makeup for the party, claiming it was a special occasion. After I straightened my hair, she went to work giving me grey, smoked out eyes and nude glossy lips.
"There. Perfect," she said, carefully applying the final strip of false lashes to my left eye.
"Are you sure this isn't too much?" I asked her, using my phone's camera to check my makeup from the side.
As someone who primarily worked in hospitals and hot yoga, I wasn't accustomed to wearing much makeup and I felt a little self-conscious wearing the whole nine yards. It did look nice, but it was awfully sultry. Especially combined with the outfit she had helped me pick out.
"You look amazing," she said with a wink. "Sexy."
"Psh," I replied, laughing. "You're just saying that because it's your handiwork. Plus, everyone knows you're the sexy one."
It was true. She was model tall with long, to-die-for natural blonde hair and piercing green eyes. Guys were crazy for her. It was actually kind of ridiculous. One time, I saw a guy walk straight into a closed door because he was so busy staring at her. Of course, Isabelle didn't even notice him.
"No, you have the whole mysterious brunette thing going on. It totally works," she told me as we walked out of my bedroom.
*
Ethan
Ryan walked down the stairs looking like something out of a magazine. My breath caught at the sight of her. Her glossy chestnut hair fell around her breasts, which were nicely on display in a low-cut red tank top; it took all my willpower not to stare at her cleavage.
Fuck me. Maybe this did have the potential to get a little weird after all.
Oh, and her friend Isabelle might have been with her too. I can't say for certain—I was too busy staring at Ryan.
Axel arrived while they were getting ready. He gave them a wolfish grin and whistled. "Hellooooo, ladies. Is this my birthday present, Ethan?" he joked.
Isabelle giggled flirtatiously. Axel was a total manwhore; I could already tell where this was heading.
I rolled my eyes. "Don't make me punch you in the throat on your birthday," I warned him. Turning to Ryan and Isabelle, I said, "There's beer in the cooler out on the patio, or harder stuff in the kitchen. Help yourselves to whatever you want."
"Beer, Iz?" Ryan asked. Isabelle nodded, still making eyes at Axel. The two of them headed outside to the patio, slamming the door behind them. All four of the guys watched them, agog, as they made their exit.
I used their absence as an opportunity to quickly lay down a few ground rules with my friends.
Looking at the group in front of me—Axel, Smith, Geoff and Luca—I said gruffly, "Now, before they're back, a few reminders: Ryan is off limits. Off limits. I don't need any drama coming into my home life. As for her friend, I don't care so much as long as you aren't a dick to her. Clear?"
"Off limits to everyone, or just everyone but you?" Axel said with a smirk. The rest of the guys laughed, mumbling something about me being a cockblock. I shot them a look and they quieted.
I glowered at him and hissed, "Throat. Punch." as Ryan and Isabelle walked back in.
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Author's Note: Looks like Ethan got more than he bargained for. Nothing like a good second first impression.
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