My Grumpy Roommate Is My Fated Match

/THEO/

Breakfast at the Beckett residence was something I could never get used to.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the dining room, glinting off the polished silver and the expensive porcelain.

Nevan sat at the head of the table already fully dressed, prepared to go to work. He was currently cutting his steak into perfect, uniform cubes, a small, indulgent smile playing on his lips as he listened to my sister, Mayla, talk about her plans for the community garden.

I looked down at my own plate, the eggs suddenly tasting bland.

Every time Nevan laughed—that reassuring sound that used to make me feel safe—all I could see was the way he'd wrapped his arms around a woman in front of a hotel—a woman that wasn't my sister.

"Theo, you’re awfully quiet," Nevan said, his grey eyes settling on me. "Still recovering from that double shift at the cafe?"

"I’m fine," I said, keeping my voice as flat as possible. I didn't look at him. I couldn't.

"You know, I was talking to one of the senior partners at the firm yesterday," Nevan continued, oblivious or just indifferent to the tension radiating off me. "They’re looking for a junior administrative assistant. It’s a great foot in the door for a Business Management grad. I could put in a word, and you’d have the interview by Monday."

Mayla beamed, reaching over to squeeze my hand. "That’s so thoughtful of you, Nevan. Theo, imagine! You wouldn’t have to deal with rude customers and the pressure of working multiple jobs anymore."

I pulled my hand back under the guise of reaching for my juice. "I’m not interested, Nevan. But thanks."

The silence that followed was awkward. Mayla’s smile faltered, her amber eyes clouding with confusion. "Theo, you’ve been out of school for a year. The cafe was supposed to be a temporary thing while you figured things out. Why would you turn down a real opportunity?"

"Because I’m moving out," I said. The words came out faster than I intended. I was ruining breakfast, I knew but I just couldn't stand it anymore.

Mayla blinked. "What?"

"I’ve stayed here long enough," I said, finally looking at her. "You and Nevan have been great, letting me stay since I started Uni, but I’m twenty-three. It’s time I stood on my own feet."

"But Theo," Mayla started, clearly worried about me. She had basically taken care of me her whole life. "The housing market in the capital is insane. You can’t afford a closet on a barista’s wage, let alone an apartment. And besides, we like having you here. Blanche loves having her uncle around."

Right on cue, five-year-old Blanche looked up from her pancakes, her thick brown hair tied in messy pigtails. She had a streak of maple syrup on her cheek and an expression that was far too observant for a kindergartner.

"Uncle Theo can't move out, Mommy," Blanche piped up. She looked completely convinced and serious. "He’s broke. I saw his piggy bank yesterday and it only had dusty coins and a button in it."

Nevan chuckled and I could see Mayla holding herself from telling Blanche that what she had said wasn't nice. "Blanche, sweetheart, don’t be rude. I’m sure your uncle has... some savings.” Nevan said it before my sister could. "But she does have a point, Theo. Financial independence is a noble goal, but let's be realistic. You're barely making ends meet. Why struggle in some cramped, dingy flat when you have a suite here for free?"

"Because it's not my home," I snapped. I stood up, my chair screeching against the marble floor. "I’ve already made up my mind. I’ll have a place by the end of next week."

"Theo, wait!" Mayla called out, but I was already heading for the door.

I grabbed my jacket and practically ran out of the house.

The cool morning air hit my face, but now that I was outside, I realized how big I had talked. I needed to find an apartment as soon as possible even though I knew Mayla was right.

Truly, it would be easier to stay with them giving my pockets but, I felt like I was suffocating. Every day I spent under that roof, eating food Nevan paid for and watching him pretend to be a "picture-perfect" husband, I felt like I was betraying Mayla. But telling her? I couldn't do it. Not while I was still dependent on the man who was breaking her heart behind her back.

I spent the next six hours walking through the city, my phone glued to my hand as I scrolled through apartment listings. Blanche’s comment echoed in my head. She was right—I was broke. Every affordable studio I called about was either already gone or located in a basement that looked like a scene from a horror movie.

By 3:00 PM, I was sitting on a park bench, staring at a crumpled piece of paper with the address of a real estate agency in a middle-class residential district. It was my last lead of the day.

I hopped on the bus and made my way to the office. When I got there, the agent—a stressed-looking man named Mr. Henderson—was already locking the door.

"Wait! Mr. Henderson!" I shouted, waving my arms as I sprinted toward him.

He sighed, checking his watch. "Kid, if you’re here about the shared units, they’re all filled. It’s a busy season."

"Please," I panted, stopping in front of him. "I just need a lead. Anything. I’m a hard worker, I’m quiet, and I mind my business. I just need a roommate who won't charge me an arm and a leg."

Henderson looked at me, then looked down the street where a black car was idling near an apartment complex a block away. "Look, I just closed a deal on a two-bedroom over there. The guy who rented it is... well, he’s a bit intense. I don't think he'd want a roommate. He’s over there though, finalizing the inspection with the landlady."

"He has an extra room?" I asked, hope flaring in my chest.

"He does, but he didn't ask for a roommate. He doesn't look like he needs anyone to split the bill with him," Henderson said, rubbing his fingers together. "But hey, if you’re as desperate as you look, go talk to him. Maybe you can convince him to split the rent."

I didn't wait for him to finish. I took off running toward the building. My lungs were burning, and my blonde curls were sticking to my forehead, but I didn't care. This was it. One week to prove to Mayla—and to myself—that I didn't need Nevan Beckett’s charity.

As I rounded the corner, I saw them. Standing by the entrance of the building was a woman holding a clipboard and a man who looked extremely breathtaking.

He was tall. Extremely tall. He wore a simple, high-quality navy sweater and dark trousers, but even from a distance, he projected an aura of someone who was always in a position of authority. He wasn't wearing a suit, yet he looked more like a boss than anyone I’d ever met.

I slowed down, taking a deep breath. I knew he'd be a tough one to convince but at least, he didn't seem like he was an Alpha. There were no pheromones coming from him, he just smelt of expensive cologne.

I sighed in relief. Alphas were notoriously proud, rude and annoying and I wouldn't want to live with an Alpha even if I'm a recessive.

I plastered my best, most charming smile on my face—the one that usually got me extra tips at the cafe—and marched right up to him.

"Hi there!" I chirped, my voice a little higher than usual from the nerves. "I couldn't help but overhear you just rented a two-bedroom. My name’s Theo, and I think I’m exactly the roommate you didn't know you were looking for!"

The man turned his head slowly. His eyes were a deep, piercing blue, and they settled on me with the warmth of a winter frost. He didn't say a word. He just looked at me like I was a crackhead that had walked up to him to ask for money.

The landlady looked between us, surprised. "Oh? Are you two together?"

"Not yet!" I said, my smile widening even as my stomach did a nervous flip. "But we’re about to be.”