CHAPTER THREE

Mia stood in the doorway. Her hand gripping the frame. Callum filled the space in front of her, tall, dark-haired, suitcase at his side.

“Callum,” she said again, voice soft. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes stayed on hers. “Let me come in please.”

She didn’t move at first. Then she stepped back. “Fine.”

Callum walked past her. His arm brushed hers. He set the suitcase near the couch and turned to face her. The apartment felt smaller.

Mia closed the door and crossed her arms. “Explain. Now.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Aubrey Miller doesn’t exist. I made the profile. Paid the deposit.” He paused, jaw tight. “I know it was wrong, Mia. I crossed a line. But you needed a roommate. I needed to be here. You weren’t going to let me help any other way.”

She stared at him. Heat rose in her cheeks. “You lied. You pretended to be someone else just to force your way back into my life?”

Callum took a slow breath. He stepped closer but kept his hands at his sides. “I’m sorry. I should have found another way. But I saw the listing and I couldn’t stand the thought of you struggling alone. Not when I could fix it.” His voice dropped. “I’m not trying to control you. I just… I couldn’t stay away.”

Mia let out a short, shaky laugh. She stepped closer too. “You think this fixes anything? You think you can just decide how my life goes again?”

He didn’t back up. His gaze held hers, dark and steady, but there was something softer underneath the intensity. “I don’t. I know I fucked up. I know this looks bad.” He lifted a hand, almost touching her arm, then stopped himself. “But I’m here now. Let me stay. Let me prove I can just be in your space without taking over. Please.”

The air between them felt thick. She could smell his cologne. Feel the warmth from his body. Memories pushed in—his hands on her waist, the way he used to pull her against him, the sounds they made when things got heated. They had always been physical. Hungry. Even now, with anger crackling between them, that pull sat right under the surface.

“Get out,” she whispered. But there was no real force behind it.

Callum shook his head slowly. “I can’t.” His voice was quieter now. “I’m staying, Mia. You can be angry with me. You can yell. I deserve it. But I’m not walking away again.”

She wanted to shove him. She wanted to pull him closer. Her hair had slipped from its tie. A few strands fell against her neck. Callum’s eyes tracked the movement, lingering a second too long.

“You don’t get to do this,” she said, voice shaky. “You don’t get to decide I need you.”

“I know.” He stepped nearer, careful. “But I’m here. In your space. Every day. You’ll see me when you wake up. When you come home.” His gaze softened. “I miss you. I miss us. And I’m sorry for how I went about this.”

Mia’s pulse raced. Anger mixed with heat low in her stomach. She remembered how their fights used to end. Desperate kisses. Clothes coming off fast. His body pressing hers down. They had always been sexual. Intense. Even now the tension hummed between them, sharp and alive.

“Callum…” Her voice wavered.

He noticed. His hand came up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was light, but it sent a jolt across her skin. “Tell me you don’t want me here,” he murmured. “Say it like you mean it.”

She opened her mouth. The words stuck. Hurt and want tangled up inside her. He was too much. But God, the pull was still there.

Instead of answering, she turned and walked into the kitchen. Callum followed slowly. He stopped in the doorway and watched her fill a glass of water. His eyes traced the line of her back, the way her sweater shifted when she moved.

“You can take the spare room,” she said, not looking at him. “But this doesn’t mean anything. We’re roommates. That’s it.”

He stayed quiet for a moment. “If that’s what you need right now, okay.” His voice was rough. “I’ll take it slow. I promise.”

Mia turned. They stared at each other. The air felt heavy. She remembered his mouth on her neck. The grip of his hands. The way he used to watch her when she came apart. Callum’s face said he was remembering the same things. His jaw flexed. He looked like he wanted to close the distance.

“This is going to be a problem,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It is.”

Neither of them moved to fix it.

Later that evening, Callum unpacked in the spare room. The space was small. He folded shirts and placed them in the drawer. He could hear Mia moving around in the living room. The faint sound of her voice when she talked to herself about dinner.

He would make coffee for her tomorrow. The way she liked it. He would give her space, but he would be here. Close. Noticing everything. She could push back. She could argue. But he wasn’t leaving.

Mia sat on the couch later. Knees drawn up. She tried to focus on a show. Her thoughts kept drifting to the man down the hall. The shock still sat heavy in her chest. Underneath it ran something warmer. Dangerous.

She heard his door open. Footsteps. He paused in the hallway and looked toward the living room. Their eyes met. The tension stretched between them again, thick and unspoken.

“You need anything?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said. Her voice came out softer than she meant.

He nodded once. Then turned back to his room.

Mia let out a shaky breath. This was going to be harder than she thought.

Callum closed the door to the spare room. The click sounded loud in the quiet apartment. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, listening. The walls were thin enough that he could hear Mia moving around in the living room. A cabinet opening. Water running. Her soft footsteps. She was right there, across the hall. In the same house. Breathing the same air.

He rubbed a hand over his face. The deception had worked, but the look on her face when she opened the door still sat heavy in his chest. He knew it was wrong. He had crossed a line. But seeing her struggle from a distance had been worse. Now he was here. Close enough to notice if she skipped dinner. Close enough to hear her voice through the wall. He unpacked the rest of his things slowly, folding shirts into the drawer. Every small sound from her side pulled his attention. He remembered how her body felt against his, how her dark hair looked spread across a pillow. The way she used to make those quiet sounds when he touched her. The tension from earlier still hummed under his skin. He wanted to go out there, pull her close, remind her how good they were together. Instead he stayed put. For now.

In the living room, Mia curled up on the couch. The TV played something she wasn’t really watching. She kept glancing toward the hallway. Callum was right there. Just a few steps away. The spare room door might as well have been open. She could almost feel him on the other side of the wall. Her mind kept replaying the moment at the door—his eyes on her, the brush of his arm, the way his voice dropped when he said he wasn’t leaving. Heat stirred low in her stomach even as frustration sat in her chest. They had always been like this. Quick to spark. Even now, with everything messed up, the pull was there. She pulled a blanket over her legs and tried to focus on the screen. Sleep would be hard tonight.

The next morning Mia slipped out early. She texted Chelsea to meet for lunch. By the time she got to the small café near the park, Chelsea was already waiting at an outdoor table, blonde hair catching the light.

They ordered sandwiches and settled in. Mia picked at her food for a minute before speaking.

“So… the roommate thing happened.”

Chelsea leaned in. “Yeah? Tell me everything. Is she nice? Did she move in already?”

Mia took a breath. “It’s Callum.”

Chelsea’s eyes widened. “Wait. What?”

“The profile. Aubrey. It was him. He showed up yesterday with a suitcase and refused to leave. The money’s already in my account. Lease signed.” Mia kept her voice soft, but the words came out in a rush. “He admitted he made it all up.”

Chelsea sat back, looking guilty. “Mia…”

“You told him, didn’t you?” Mia asked. Not angry. Just quiet. Hurt. “About the rent. About me looking for a roommate.”

Chelsea nodded slowly. “I ran into him a couple weeks ago. He asked how you were doing. I mentioned you were stressed about the apartment. I didn’t think he would… do all this. I’m sorry. I was worried about you.”

Mia looked down at her plate. “I know you were. I’m not mad at you. Just… surprised. He’s in my apartment right now. Acting like it’s normal.”

Chelsea reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” Mia let out a small breath. “He said he was sorry for how he did it. But he’s not leaving. And being around him again… it’s complicated.”

They talked for a while longer, walking through the park afterward. Chelsea listened as Mia described the shock at the door, the way Callum had tried to calm things down even while standing his ground. The tension that still crackled between them. By the time they said goodbye near the grocery store, Mia felt a little lighter. But the walk home felt heavier with every step.

When Mia got back to the apartment, she dropped her bag by the door a little harder than usual. She kicked off her shoes and headed straight for the kitchen, needing water, needing a minute to breathe. Callum was already there, leaning against the counter with his phone in hand. He looked up when she walked in.

She didn’t say anything. Just opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle, and took a long drink. The silence stretched.

Callum set his phone down. “Can we talk?”

Mia screwed the cap back on the bottle. She didn’t look at him right away. “What’s there to talk about? You’re here. You made sure of that.”

He stayed where he was, giving her space but not leaving the room. “I know what I did. Showing up like that, hiding behind the profile. It was messed up.” His voice stayed low at first, steady. “But I’m not sorry for wanting to be close to you again. I miss you, Mia. The way things were between us.”

She finally turned to face him. Her arms crossed over her chest. “You miss me so you trick me into letting you move in? That’s not how this works. This is my apartment. My life. You don’t get to force your way back in and act like it’s fine.”

Callum’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone even. “I’m not acting like it’s fine. I know I pushed too hard.” He took one step closer, then stopped. “But you were struggling. Rent, the apartment, everything. I couldn’t just watch from the outside anymore. I want us to have a chance to figure this out. Not as roommates who avoid each other. As… us.”

The words hung there. Mia felt her pulse pick up. Part of her wanted to keep the cold shoulder going. Another part remembered how easy it used to be to talk to him. How quickly quiet talks turned into something hotter. She pushed that thought down.

“You don’t get to decide when we figure things out,” she said, softer but still edged. “You don’t get to decide anything for me anymore.”

“I’m not trying to decide for you.” His voice deepened just a little, that familiar intensity slipping through. “But I’m here now. And you feel it too. The way we still are around each other. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Mia didn’t answer right away. The kitchen felt smaller. The air between them heavier. She remembered his hands, his mouth, the way arguments used to end with them tangled up together. Callum’s eyes stayed on her, waiting.

She turned away first. “I need some space.”

He didn’t push and Mia walked out of the kitchen without another word.