Page 4

Chapter 4

Callie

“So, those are the two apartments currently available,” Christi says, setting her keys on the kitchen counter.

“And we can move in right away?” Adam asks, and I immediately start to tune them out. As much as I would love to have input on this, I know it’s going to be Adam’s call. And frankly, I don’t think I can listen to the sales pitch for another second. My focus is shit as is, but hearing something for the third time? Yeah, my listening has gone out the door.

Despite the delay, we made it to the apartment complex with time to spare. Christi took us through two fully furnished apartments where the guys simply nodded as she went on and on about the layout and furniture included. In regular professional sports fashion, the place is nice, but Adam’s never been one for the overly flashy penthouse type. During the season they’re barely home anyway, so what’s even the point?

I’m not sure if that’s what Christi is overcompensating for or if it’s just her personality, but half of the time during the tour I had to bite back, “They’re guys, they don’t care.” I know Adam is going to take one of these apartments. The stuff he had on his list was “move-in ready” and “fully furnished.” I can’t say what Will will do, he’s only nodded and grunted half responses since we got here.

I can’t seem to make heads or tails of him. I’m not ashamed to admit that Will is exactly my type. I might have kept an extreme distance from the team in Seattle but I’m not blind—dude’s hot as hell. He's a starting pitcher and it shows—lean but not lanky, chestnut brown hair that he usually hides under his ball cap, and don’t even get me started when he turns it around backward. He did that on the plane ride over here and I was half tempted to take a picture for future spank bank.

Too bad he’s a baseball player and I’ve sworn them off for good. But looking when they are as attractive as Will isn’t off the table. Looking is harmless.

“Perfect, I’ll get the paperwork drawn up for these two.” Finally letting Christi’s voice stick in my brain instead of sneakily eye-fucking Will, it seems like decisions have been made and I missed them.

Damn, I hope Adam picked the other apartment down the hall. It had such a prettier view than this one. “I’m sorry, I spaced out. Where am I living?”

My question is directed to Adam, but Christi answers first. “Oh, I didn’t realize you needed a place as well.” Her voice is so high pitched, it’s like I just told her it was Christmas.

“Oh, she meant—” Adam tries to cut in, but Christi pushes through.

“You are so in luck because there will actually be another apartment opening up right next to the one down the hall next week. The one with the view you loved so much.” She winks. “The only issue is it’s only one bedroom and partially furnished but the rent is lower than these two.”

Well, wait a minute. Lower rent? Not live in the same space as my type-A brother?

“She’s good to stay—” Adam tries again, but this time it’s my turn to talk over him.

“Hold up, how low are we talking?”

With the salary the Blues offered me I know I can move out of Adam’s place eventually, but I hadn’t talked to him about it yet. I didn’t even know it was an option right now, but hell, I’ll jump on the opportunity now if I can swing it.

At this moment I’ve made Christi’s whole day. “Let me grab the paperwork to be sure, but it would be the perfect space for you. I’ll be right back.”

As she walks out the door I let a squeal escape. “I could have my own place!” The idea is so exciting. I’ve never lived on my own before. Now that the thought has entered my brain, I can’t think of anything else. I can decorate with so much color. I can mismatch anything I want, and no one can say a word because it’s going to be mine.

“Adam, my paycheck doesn’t come in until the end of the month, but I can pay you back. Please, please, please, help me this last time and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Am I that bad to live with?” Adam huffs.

My sweet brother knows we have the same, yet completely different personalities. We both have a more positive outlook on things, but where Adam’s rays of sunshine are in a perfect circle, my rays are manic with heat fluctuations and constant color changes. But despite our differences, we’ve grown closer since I moved in with him.

“Of course not! But I could actually have my own place. I’ve never had that.”

Adam crosses his arms like he wants to say no, but I know better. “I got the first month's rent, then it’s all you.”

I let out another squeal with small jumps up and down. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! And we’ll be neighbors!”

Adam opens his mouth to speak but Will beats him to it. His tone is flat as he says, “Actually, we’ll be neighbors.”

Well, this ought to be good.

It’s done. My apartment is ready and it’s perfect. It took about a week for me to move in and since my place only came partially furnished I had quite the list of supplies to get. But I didn’t mind. This place needed the Callie touch.

By the end of the week, I had boxes and bags piled so high in Adam’s living room I thought he was going to break into my place just so he could get the clutter out.

But once the keys were in my hands I was just as eager as he was. It’s only taken me two days to get everything where I want it. Granted I’m working on a budget with the little I have in my savings, so it wasn't exactly a ton of stuff. I’ve filled the whole place with color and it’s wonderfully chaotic.

Mismatched patterned pillows on the couch. Mixed antique kitchenware and cutlery from at least five different thrift stores. A lot came from thrift stores honestly, and I won’t apologize for it. What’s that saying? “One man’s junk is another man’s treasure.” That pretty much sums up my apartment. I did draw the line at thrifted bedding and towels. Those I bought brand new. But everything else is my treasure.

Folding my last throw blanket and tossing it in one of my baskets I collapse on the couch. I’m pooped. My eyes shut for a minute before there’s a knock at my door. “Cals, it’s Adam. Let me in.”

“I think it’s open,” I holler back. I went this morning to get tea from the shop two blocks down and I’m pretty sure I forgot to lock my door. I was so focused on letting my tea fuel me putting the finishing touches on my place that the thought of locking my door never entered my mind. I’m sure I’ll get a comment on it, but eh, who cares? The lobby is locked, and Christi talked for a solid ten minutes about the building’s “low crime” rating.

Shutting the door behind him, Adam plops on the couch next to me. “Place looks nice. Too bad someone will steal it all because you leave your door unlocked.”

Hard eye roll. I knew it. “At least the robbers have good taste.” As I breathe in, the smell hits me. “Get off my couch! You’re all sweaty and you smell!”

I’m pushing him to my best ability to get his nasty ass up, but he puts all his weight against me. “Ugh, what are you doing here anyway?”

“I just left the gym, I’m not even that sweaty.” Still fighting against me, he laughs. “After all I’ve done for you, this is how you treat me?”

“Years, Adam. I’ve had years of your catcher’s gear smelling up everything. Please don’t ruin my new couch.”

“Alright, alright.” Finally standing up, he relents. “But me leaving comes at a cost. We’re all going out with the new team tonight.”

“Noooo, I want to stay in my apartment. Leave me be, you Social Sally.” Reaching for one of my pillows I swat it at him before readjusting to lie down. A nap is calling my name, not socializing with a bunch of baseball players.

As soon as my eyes shut my pillow gets ripped out from under me. “Hey!”

Adam holds it over me and only holds it higher when I reach for it. “Not up for negotiation, Cals. These people are our co-workers now. I’ll drag you and Will out, kicking and screaming.”

“Will’s not been home in days.” Probably shouldn’t be something that I can say so confidently, but it’s true. I haven’t seen him since he moved in, and I’ve been in my new place for two days and haven’t heard a peep.

“He was visiting his family in Rowley, but he just got back, so no excuses. Be ready at six.” Adam throws the pillow back at my head.

“Dick,” I grumble.

“When I come back at six your door better be locked,” he calls as he walks out.