CHAPTER 2 - The Most Shameless Roommate

/THEO/

He just stared at me with those deep blue eyes, his expression so flat it was almost impressive. Up close, he was even more intimidating—wide shoulders, a sharp jawline, and a general vibe that would make anyone be afraid to approach him.

I was different of course, not that I wasn't afraid that he'd call the cops on me, in the sense that I was brave enough to approach despite his demeanor and intimidating look.

I wish he wouldn't look at me like some kind of creep. He looked like some high-level accountant or a manager who took himself way too seriously, maybe that's why he was so rigid.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice so deep that I gulped in surprise. I was weak for deep voices. "Do I know you?"

"Not yet! I'm Theo Pearson," I said, sticking my hand out. He looked at my hand like it was some foreign object and didn't move. I slowly pulled it back, tucking it into my pocket. "I heard you just got the two-bedroom. I’ve been looking for a place in this area, and honestly, I’m the perfect roommate. I’m clean and can clean, I can cook—like, actually cook, not just microwave stuff—and I’m barely even here because I work a lot."

The man turned back to the landlady. "I believe the lease was for a single occupant, Mrs. Gable."

Mrs. Gable, a woman in her sixties with bright purple spectacles, looked at me with a soft expression. "Well, technically yes, Mr. Armoni. But the rent for this unit is quite steep for one person. It was originally built for couples or students. Having a second name on the lease does make the paperwork look more stable for the owners."

I saw a flicker of hesitation in the man’s eyes. ‘Armoni.’ Even his name sounded stiff.

“Do I look like I can't afford the rent, Mrs. Gable?” He looked nearly angry.

“N-No, not at all,” she stuttered.

“Good, because I'm not interested in sharing," he said firmly. He started to walk past me toward the stairs.

"Wait! Mr. Armoni!" I scrambled after him. "Look, I’m in a really tight spot. I have one week to find a place or I’m basically homeless. I promise, I won't be a bother. Pretty please!”

He stopped and looked at me over his shoulder. The way he looked down at me made me feel like I was 5'2" instead of 5'9".

"No," he said.

I knew I was being annoying. I knew I was being "extra." But then I thought of Nevan’s pretentious face at the breakfast table and Blanche’s comment about my empty piggy bank. I couldn't go back.

As he turned to continue up the stairs, I did the only thing my brain could think of. I lunged forward and grabbed his left leg, dropping to my knees.

"Please!" I wailed, probably a bit too loudly. "I’ll do your laundry! I’ll meal prep for you! I’ll be so quiet you’ll forget I exist! If I don't get this room, my sister is going to make me move back in with her husband, and I’d honestly rather jump in front of a bus!"

I felt the muscle in his leg go rock-hard under my grip. The landlady gasped, and the agent, who had just walked up, looked like he wanted to vanish into the pavement.

"Let go," Armoni said, his voice sounding even more serious than before. It was cold enough to give me goosebumps.

"Not until you say you'll consider it!" I squeezed tighter. "I'm a great roommate, I swear! I don't party, I don't have people over, and I’m very good at following rules!"

"I will call the police," he stated calmly.

"Go ahead!" I bluffed, though my heart was hammering. "Tell them a desperate, hardworking graduate is trying to pay you rent! See who they side with!"

He looked down at me, and for a second, I thought he was actually going to kick me. Instead, he looked past me, toward the street. A dark sedan was crawling slowly down the block, the windows tinted. He seemed to stiffen, his eyes narrowing.

"Fine," he muttered, so low I almost missed it. "Get up. You’re making a scene."

I scrambled to my feet, dusting off my jeans and beaming. "Does that mean yes?"

He looked at Mrs. Gable, then back at me. He looked like he was choosing between two different types of poison. "You stay for a trial month. You pay half the rent and a third of the utilities. You follow every single rule I write down, or you're out within twenty-four hours. Understood?"

"Crystal clear! You won't regret this, Mr. Armoni!"

"It’s Lorcan," he snapped. "And I already regret it."

Ten minutes later, I was standing inside the apartment. It was actually really nice—minimalist, clean, with white walls and dark wood floors. It was exactly the kind of place a boring, high-strung office worker would love.

Lorcan walked to the kitchen island and pulled out a notebook and a pen. He didn't even take off his sweater, he just started writing with a ferocity that was slightly terrifying.

"Rules," he said, sliding the paper toward me when he was done.

I picked it up.

1. Zero Interaction: Do not speak to me unless it is about the apartment or an emergency.

2. The Kitchen: You may use it between 6:00 AM and 7:30 AM, and 6:00 PM and 7:00 PM. Outside of those hours, the common area belongs to me.

3. Scents: I don't think we'd have much of an issue with this. However, do not wear strong perfumes. I have a low tolerance for smells.

4. Volume: No music without headphones. No loud phone calls.

5. Privacy: My room is off-limits. If you enter it, the police will be called. No exceptions.

I blinked at the list. "Wow, you really like your personal space, huh?"

He didn't answer. He was already opening a laptop, his fingers flying across the keys. I began to wonder if all office workers were this dedicated.

"I’ll go grab my stuff," I said, ignoring the 'Zero Interaction' rule for a second. "I don't have much, so I'll be out of your hair by tonight."

He didn't even look up.

I walked toward the smaller bedroom, feeling a strange mix of triumph and nerves. Sure, Lorcan was a bit of a jerk, and he was definitely the most antisocial person I’d ever met, but at least he didn't seem bad and he's even a Beta which I considered a bonus.

He was just a guy who worked too hard and hated people.

I sat on the edge of the bare mattress in my new room and exhaled a breath I felt like I’d been holding for years. I was finally out of Nevan’s house.

In the next room, I heard the continuous clicking of Lorcan’s keyboard.

“Poor guy,” I thought. “He’s probably just as stressed about life as I am. Working all those hours just to afford a place like this. Don’t worry, Lorcan. Your new roommate is going to make sure this place stays sparkling clean.”

I grabbed my phone to text Mayla.

“Found a place! Moving in today. My roommate is a bit of a grouch, but he’s a responsible office worker. Tell Blanche I found a piggy bank with actual bills in it!”

I tucked my phone away and headed back out to grab my things from my sister's residence. I had a month to prove I belonged here. How hard could it be to live with a guy who wanted to pretend I didn't exist?

As I walked out, I glanced at Lorcan one last time. He was still hunched over his laptop, his face illuminated by the blue light of the screen.

He was such an odd ball. I was certain he didn't have a single friend with that personality of his.

“Lucky him, now he has me,” I muttered as I rubbed my nose confidently. If there was anything I was good at, it was making friends.