Paris in the summer is a dream. Unless you're in the subway. Then it's like a sewer.

I'm sorry to the great people of Paris, but I do not love the metro. It's hot and sticky and people shove you around if you don't know where you're going. Which in my case is good, because if they hadn't done that, I would be sandwiched between two doors right now.

"Okay, all the apartments we've tried so far are..." Rafael stands beside me on the train, list of potential apartments out in front of him, scratching them off one by one.

"Less than habitable or more than our yearly salary?" I supply.

"You noticed that, too?" He groans. "Why did I assume it would be easy to find a house?"

"Spoiled from all of our recent adventures in Edmonton?" I laugh.

"You are so funny. We have to be at rehearsals in three days, Piper. The company is only paying for two more nights of hotel and then we need a place to stay."

"You think I don't know that?" I've raised my voice a little too much and find a few unwanted eyes on me. "I do know that. I'm acutely aware that we have nowhere to live and no money to live with. You can just say it. I made a bad choice making you come to Paris with me."

"Are you kidding right now?" He pulls me to face him and pushes me back into the wall, holding me there with his strong arms gripped on my shoulders. Whoa. Where did that come from?

"Piper, you look at me and you listen," he says firmly. "This is the best ballet company in the world we're talking about here. And they magically offer both of us positions with the same start date? So we can travel the world together and share apartment costs? Who would have said no?"

"Someone with a brain in their head instead of a dream in their eyes," I mumble, still pressed into the cold plastic of the train's separators.

"Whatever you do, don't stop dreaming," he says low enough that no one else can hear. "It's what I love most about you."

And I am not going to wish that he meant that how it sounded. I've put that long behind me. He's had the pick of the company for twelve years and not once has he ever looked at me. I asked him out once, too, but he thought I meant we'd go as friends so he talked about football while we ate ice cream. I was in my nicest dress and he was in sweatpants. I don't think he even remembers that day, but I will never forget the way he looked at his watch at the end and said, "Well, I've got to go. Genevieve and I are seeing a movie tonight." Like I mattered nothing at all.

Like I was dirt on his shoe.

Like I'd been stabbed and the only person who could stop the bleeding left me sitting with a pile of napkins and walked out the door.

But that was behind us now. We were besties. We are besties. And we're ready to take on the world.

"We gotta go," Rafael urges, pulling my arm. "If we don't make this stop we won't make our appointment and there is no way we're getting it if we do. She's practically giving this apartment away."

I chase Rafael through the train and through the glass doors, grabbing my skirt out from behind me just in time for the doors to close with a whoosh. My skirt was still intact as the train rolled off, so I'd say I was successful.

"She is practically giving it away, isn't she?" I muse as I follow him up the stairs. "I wonder what's wrong with it."

"The pictures looked really good, but maybe they're old and it's a big huge mess?" he offers. "I guess we'll find out when we get there."

We make the three block trek to the apartment, passing a park and a few shops on the way to the address listed very last on our sheet. It's so far from rehearsals and performances that it's comical, but the street is quaint and cute and there's so many places to see. Plus, the metro isn't far away, and it's one train straight to work. It'll be okay. I think.

"This is it," Rafael says, coming to a stop in front of a narrow stone building butting up to the adjacent one. At least three stories tall, the quaint window openings look original and the flowers adorning the steps are welcoming.

The apartment is on the very top floor, above the residences of the owner, and there are no elevators. So once we ring the bell and receive nothing but an angry buzz in reply, Rafael pulls the door open and I race inside and up the many flights of stairs.

It's a good thing we are both athletes, because getting anything up these stairs is going to be a world record holding achievement.

Maybe we'll have to shop like Europeans and go to the store every day or two to lighten the load.

"Allo!" A woman calls from upstairs when we round the corner to the last flight of stairs, only a little winded.

"Hello!" Rafael calls back. "We're here!"

He races past me, piece of paper still clutched in his hand. I will not look where I should not look. I will keep my eyes on the stairs at eye level and... well, if he runs past that then he runs past that.

And he does run past that.

It's a good thing I have years of experience living with this man because I'm desensitized enough to be a functioning human when he's around. But I do admit a girl likes to admire.

"Apartment is open. One bedroom. Which one of you is the occupant?" She gestures back and forth between us. And it's only when Rafael answers, his Argentinian accent showing just a little, that I realize she's asking us questions in Spanish.

"It's for both of us," he answers, looking down at the paper. "It says two bedrooms here in the listing."

There it is. I knew there was a reason it was so inexpensive. But then maybe it's a blessing in disguise as the cheapest one bedroom we could find in the city was more than this one. And we looked. Hard. That's how we came up with this sharing a place to live idea. Well, that and we'd been doing it for years.

"One bedroom. Take it or leave it."

"We'd love to see it."

"Married?" She asks in English, probably picking up on my inability to reply in Spanish. Understanding is one thing, remembering the right words to use is entirely another.

"Uhh," I stutter and stumble over the last step.

Of course Rafael is there to catch me with his strong muscular arms I'm so used to being lifted by, but he doesn't seem to notice at all, continuing his conversation with the woman. "Why don't we take a look and if we like it we can talk about all of the requirements and expectations. We don't need to waste your time."

"Fine, come in."

She swings the door open and stands aside so we can enter. She doesn't follow us in, waiting out in the hallway.

"It's just like the pictures," Rafael says, eyes wide with excitement. "And look at this view of the gardens, just like she said there would be."

I follow him to the window and have to admit the view is exquisite. Still not sure how we managed to find this still on the market. The kitchen is a small line with an itty bitty fridge as is standard over here, but it's clean and functional and fully stocked with everything we would need.

That's another thing this apartment has that none of the others did: it is furnished.

The apartment is almost too good to be true. How are we this lucky? And the very last place we looked. I mean, what are the odds?

"Do we even need to look anymore?" I ask once we've perused all the common space and the bathroom. "I mean, we'll figure something out, with the bed right? We have to take this."

"I'll take the couch," he says without thinking. "But that's not going to be the biggest problem."

"What's going to be the biggest problem?" I ask.

"You decide if you want the apartment?" The old woman's voice carries through the whole place when she pushes through the door holding a key. "I can give you the key right now if you have the deposit."

"Yes!" I answer eagerly. "Yes, of course we want it. Umm, we have the deposit if you can take a cheque. Or I can go to the nearest bank or machine or wherever if you prefer cash."

"Piper—" Rafael tries to interrupt me, but I think I'm doing just fine.

"You are both staying here?" she looks down at my right finger and then my left. "You are not even engaged?" Her eyebrows pull into her hair.

"No—" I start, but Rafael cuts in.

"We'll go get that cash for you and be back as soon as we can. Should we meet downstairs at your door?"

"But Rafa, I was just—"

"I know, dear, just let me handle the details."

Dear? What is going on? Have I fallen and hit my head? Passed out from dehydration?

I do as he says, following him to the bottom of the stairs and out the door before I stop him and demand an answer. "What on earth is going on?"

He shoves the listing into my hands and points at some vague area near the bottom.

"Yes, this is the listing for the very nice apartment we just saw. It says two bedrooms and we only saw one and..."

He snatches the paper back from me and steps behind me, wrapping his arms around in front and pointing to the direct line in the requirements.

And it suddenly makes sense why she was so worried about our marital status. "Single renters only, or one married couple. Not suitable for roommates."

"Can she do that?" I ask, incredulous?

"Can she limit the rental of a one bedroom to one person or one married couple? Probably. I don't know exactly. You really want to take her to court?"

"Well, I guess I can find somewhere else to stay," I say finally. I mean, if you get this I can probably afford a few more nights at the hotel and we can figure it out from there."

"Oh no. If anyone's getting a far off apartment with an uncomfortable bed, it's not going to be you. You take this and I'll find something else. I'll be fine."

"I can't let you do that," I jump in. "You did all the work to find the place. I can't even speak to the woman!"

"I'm not really going to take no for an answer," he says, shrugging. "You'll take the apartment. That's why I had to get you out of there, though. She can't know we aren't married, or I don't think she'll let me visit."

"But if she thinks we're married, why can't we both have the apartment."

"Because I'm pretty sure she's the kind of woman who's going to ask for the certificate."

"Shit, really?"

"She reminds me a lot of my abuela, actually. Sweet, kind, killer cook. But also very, very specific about requirements."

"So you think she'd make us like actually get married to both live here?"

"Yeah, there goes the idea of pretending, huh?"

I wasn't going to suggest pretending to be married. Interesting idea coming out of his mouth, though.

"And getting actually married is obviously out of the question," I shudder, glad he's behind me where he cannot see my pained expression. There was a time I'd wanted the whole marriage and kids thing but now, at nearly twenty-five, I was pretty sure I was past that whole thing. The only person I can see myself with can't see me with them. And that's okay, but it means I need some different goals.

Like becoming a soloist with the company and working my way up to prima ballerina. I have about five more years to do it if I keep in really good health.

"Tell you what," I say, snapping back to reality at the immensely good idea. "Let's flip for it. If you win, I take the apartment. If I win, you take the apartment."

"I don't trust you not to cheat," he laughs. "Let's get a new coin from the bank and we'll flip that. I'll flip, you call."

"You, Rafael, have got yourself a deal. Now let's go before she gives that apartment away to someone else." 

~ * ~ Author's Note ~ * ~ 

Okay, I admit that keeping this story a novella is going to be a HUGE challenge that I'm not sure I'm up for but I am going to try my very best to keep these two under 40,000 words. They just have so much to say. 

Are you ready to see the coin decide their fate? They've agreed to the rules. They've agreed to let the coin decide. Now what? 

What do you think the coin will choose? 

~ * ~ Other ONC Novellas ~ * ~ 

I might have mentioned in the intro chapter, but in case I haven't shared with you yet, I'm writing a total of five novellas for the Open Novella Contest this year! If you're interested in checking out my other novellas (or any of my other work), it's all available on my profile authorelizasolares . 

Some details on my other novellas is below, if you want to check them out. 

Christmas at the Cabin: Contemporary Romance novella, grumpy sunshine, forced proximity, prompt #13.

Intrepid outdoors woman who abhors Christmas meets grumpy CEO who loves Christmas. His arrogance threatens their very survival on the hike up a mountain and a winter storm has them running for their lives. Together.

Love, Lies & Red Eyes: Paranormal Romance novella, forced proximity, prompt #52.

Spunky Anthropologist and brooding dog-shifter cadejo form a mutually beneficial relationship, but hiding out together starts to blur the line of the professional boundaries. Okay, those were gone from the moment they kissed.

Runaway Fiancés: Historical Romance novella, fake marriage, one bed, prompt #9.

In historical Spain, two strangers manage to escape engagements they don't want. Pretending to be married gives him purpose and her protection. But it won't be enough to evade their powerful fathers for long.

Don't Want to be Queen: Comedy-Romance novella, rivals to lovers, unrequited love, prompt #49.

Two sisters. One kingdom. An outrageous and outdated belief about queens being married. But if they're going to outwit their father, they're going to need a well-connected man on the inside. A man who happens to be the long time crush of the younger sister.