The Hardest Fall

“I’m really tired and I haven’t had anything to eat since this morning. I’ll come after—”

“You young people… You should never leave today’s work for tomorrow.” The door opened all the way and she stood back. I would’ve agreed with her if it had been my own work I had to handle without leaving it for tomorrow. I hadn’t even said I’d do it the next day. All I wanted to do was sit my ass down and eat something before I had to tackle her. Holding back a frustrated scream and gritting my teeth, I gave her a toothless smile and walked in.

Before I was even four steps into her apartment, she closed her door and started in on me. “Was that a young man I saw leaving the apartment this morning, Miss Clarke? Back in my time, we wouldn’t get near boys. These things were frowned upon, but I guess times have changed. At least this one is closer to your age. Did you know the girl in 5B cheated on her boyfriend? I heard them arguing just this afternoon—”

I wasn’t even sure who lived in 5B. Tuning her completely out, I did what she’d asked me to do and as soon as it was done, I almost ran back out before she could ask me to take Billy out for a walk. Billy was the cat from hell who hid every time someone other than Ms. Hilda was in the house, and when he was thrust into someone’s hands (i.e., mine), his go-to course of action was to scratch the hell out of your arms for even daring to touch him.

As I practically jogged toward the door that would take me to safety, I could hear Ms. Hilda’s quick footsteps following me. For an eighty-five-year-old woman, she moved surprisingly fast when she wanted to and caught up to me just as I opened her door.

“You have a nice evening now, Miss Clarke, and I’ll let you know if I learn more about the girl in 5B. I bet we’ll see her new boo—”

I took a step out and collided with the hard body of a wide receiver in my haste to escape. Dylan had apparently just walked up the last step of the stairs, and he grunted in surprise. I gasped and he went back down a step. Grabbing me right above the elbow, he steadied us both before I could fall on him and quite possibly break his neck on the way down the stairs.

“Zoe?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I apologized quickly as he let go of my arm.

This guy would forever remember me as ‘the klutz I had to live with that one year and had seen around campus twice before that’.

Before I could explain anything to Dylan or warn him telepathically, Ms. Hilda cleared her throat behind me and I barely held back a groan. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. If I didn’t wrap this up quickly, she would hold us hostage for who knew how long.

Here we go.

“Ah, Dylan, here you are,” I exclaimed a little louder than necessary so Ms. Hilda would have no trouble hearing—though when it came to the old woman’s hearing, it was always a crapshoot. I plastered the biggest smile on my face and tried to come up with something in the two seconds it took me to right myself and face my nosy neighbor. “We were just talking about you, weren’t we Ms. Hilda?” Before the poor guy could understand what was happening, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up to stand next to me—or more accurately, I urged him to stand next to me, because with the way those muscles felt under my hand, I couldn’t imagine anything my size could move him even an inch if he didn’t want to be moved.

My next brilliant move was to pat his arm and discreetly squeeze it as a warning, but then I felt his muscles flex under my touch and I forgot what I was going to say.

Holy shit…

I looked up at Dylan and our gazes met. I had no freaking idea what he was thinking, but I quickly looked away and pried my fingers off of his arm.

If we both wanted to get away from Ms. Hilda’s endless chatter, I had to focus on one thing at a time. I thought telling a little white lie wouldn’t hurt anybody if it meant we’d get back to the apartment and I’d get to my dinner sooner.

“This is who you must’ve seen leaving this morning, Ms. Hilda. His name is Dylan Reed and he’s my new roommate.”

Both Dylan and I watched Ms. Hilda take him in from head to toe. Shamelessly, I did the same. He was wearing black and gray Nike shoes, light gray sweatpants—which killed me, because gray sweatpants on a guy was heaven on earth, especially when they wore them in the morning—and a white t-shirt that stretched across his impressive chest, the sleeves hugging those arms I had touched only seconds before. He was also toting a big-ass bag that hung low on his hip, the strap crossed over his chest.

Ms. Hilda must not have been impressed because she released another grunt. Excluding our old Hilda, if any living, breathing female wasn’t impressed when they clapped eyes on Dylan Reed, I was ready to give up pizza—for a week—and that was the biggest commitment one could make.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms…” Dylan trailed off.

“Hilda,” I jumped in before he got her started. “I forgot to mention her to you, didn’t I? This is Ms. Hilda. I was just helping her out with something and she mentioned how she had seen a young man leave the apartment and was confused about who you were.”

“Oh?” Dylan asked politely, glancing between me and our neighbor.

“I wasn’t confused, Miss Clarke. I gave you my exact thoughts on how I felt about another boy living with you. This one”—she turned to look at Dylan as she pointed her thumb at me—“should’ve been a juggler in a circus instead of fiddling away with that camera she can’t seem to part ways with.”

“Oh, but, Ms. Hilda, you didn’t hear the best part yet.” I put my arm through Dylan’s, stood a little bit closer to him, basically plastering my front to his side, and had to forcefully suppress the involuntary shiver caused by standing too close to him. I leaned toward Ms. Hilda as if I was about to give her the world’s biggest secret. She leaned forward too—she lived for gossip. “I’m afraid he’s not into us girls,” I whispered loud enough that she could hear, which meant Dylan could hear me perfectly clearly, too. Ms. Hilda’s eyebrows furrowed and she gave Dylan another long look.

“Uh, excuse me?” Dylan spoke up after a few seconds of silence.

I angled my body toward him and this time patted his chest area, completely ignoring his lined forehead and questioning gaze. I had no idea where I was going with the whole petting thing, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” the old woman answered, mistaking Dylan’s question as an apology.

“Yes, nothing to be sorry about, Dylan,” I repeated.

Dylan’s eyes jumped from me to Ms. Hilda. “I don’t—”

Before Dylan could finish his sentence, I discreetly stepped on his foot with my heel and applied as much pressure as I could. Points to him for not even letting out a grunt. Slowly he turned his head toward me and raised an eyebrow. I gave him the sweetest smile I could come up with and pulled my foot away.

“Ms. Hilda is a very open-minded woman,” I explained, gesturing toward her with my head. “Nothing like her peers, right Ms. Hilda?”

She stood a little taller. “Yes, yes, that I am. Those old farts are nothing like me. Keep your head high, young man. There is nothing wrong about love. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Uh…”

“You can tell me.”

“Come on, Dylan,” I urged, lightly shaking his arm. The sooner he went along with it and appeased her, the sooner we could get away. “Don’t be shy.”