❝When we first dropped our bags on apartment floors
Took our broken hearts, put them in a drawer
Everybody here was someone else before
And you can want who you want❞

I got up like a vampire. Which wasn't my usual preference, really. Normally, I preferred being human but last night had disrupted my patterns.

For one, I'd forgotten to draw the curtains so the sunlight directly pierced my eyelids like two wooden stakes being plunged into my upper orifices (my eyes, you heathens.)

Secondly, I'd fallen asleep like a mummy. On my back, hands folded over my chest as if any second, Shortcake would come bounding into the room to kick my ass. I mean, I couldn't blame him for wanting to. I probably deserved it.

I'd unleashed hell on the semi-poor man, thinking him to be some kind of criminal last night out to rob 'EJ' but no. Shortcake—or Aiden as he'd introduced himself—was no serial mastermind on the prowl at Cobble Hill.

He was just a pizza-thieving asshole whose neck I'd scratched like a cat out of hell and possibly even resulted in a sprained shoulder. My own back was bruised and sore from him slamming me up against the wall during his self-defense and as I got up, I winced at the pain.

All night, I lay in fear. Not necessarily of him but of the situation I'd gotten myself into. I hadn't lived with a boy since I was eighteen and there was a huge difference between sharing a space with a baby brother and a total stranger who had a penchant for stealing your stuff.

"What are you doing, Harper?" I grumbled to myself and reached for my phone. It was 7:45 a.m. and I was starving, not to mention hungover. I could question my life choices later.

Getting to my feet, I decided to wash my face and freshen up slightly in the attached bathroom. Peeking in, I was surprised to see it was already fully stocked with guest soaps and bathing gel. Like the rest of Evan's apartment, the bathroom too was a sanctuary of clean lines and minimalist beauty.

Marble tiles graced the walls, and a frameless glass shower enclosure exuded a sense of luxury. A freestanding bathtub beckoned like a modern-day oasis and I almost considered dipping in for a nice relaxing cleanse. God knew I needed one.

Instead, I settled for a quick face wash and air-dried my skin, unsure how clean the face towel was. After that, I slowly creaked open the bedroom door which, much to my relief, didn't make a sound, and tip-toed out into the hall. I could hear soft snores coming from the other room and what sounded like a couple snorts and hiccups in the middle. He slept like Evan. Maybe it was a Mitchell-men thing.

I found my keys on the coffee table and slipped them into my jeans pocket before whipping out my phone. It was dangerously low on battery.

"Fuck."

I quickly scrolled through recent contacts and called Evan. He picked up after a single ring.

"Sleep well, my demon cub?"

"Ha. Funny. Your cousin and you are both a hoot."

I could practically hear Evan's grin. The sound of a honk told me he was driving with the call on speaker.

"Were you two at each other's throats after I left?"

I recalled my cringe-ass line and decided not to say anything. I'd replayed that moment all night, wondering why I'd gone with that particular quip when I could have just said nothing at all and walked away. Silence was always best. I wondered if Shortcake had laughed at me behind my back.

"Harper?"

"Oh. Uh. Not really. I avoided him."

"Hmm..."

I sighed and sank down onto the couch.

"Ev, I really really can't thank you enough for offering me your condo."

"Then don't."

"But," I continued, my voice harder, "I don't know if I can live with your cousin. He's..."

What could I say that wouldn't come out super offensive? I had no idea how close the two of them were and the last thing I wanted to do was offend Evan when he was offering me his home, free of charge.

"He's what?"

"An insufferable nitwit."

Well, that was one way to go about it.

To my surprise, all Evan did was bark out in laughter. And I don't mean, the forced, pleasant kind of laughter. I mean full out, hyena pack laughter.

"Oh boy, it's been a while since I heard a woman chew out my baby cuz like that."

"Baby cuz?" I repeated, oddly intrigued. "A woman?" Was the pizza-bandit a Don Juan of sorts?

"Aiden's had a streak of bad luck with the ladies. He's too into his work to be present in any relationship, or even for casual dating. You'd be surprised how often women have complained my ear off about him."

"Oh."

I wasn't sure how to react to that information.

"So, do all your cousins have a key to this place? Any others I should keep an eye out for?"

Evan chuckled.

"Owen has one too but he's on the moon so you haven't got to worry about him."

"Ah okay," I relaxed, sitting back. Wait. Did he just say—

"On the moon?!" I jolted up in shock. "Like, a honeymoon?"

"No, the literal moon Harp. Owen's an astronaut."

This was a lot of information for me to process before 8 a.m.

"I thought the condo was yours?"

"It is, technically. It's under my name, but the condo was kind of a graduation present to the three of us from all our parents." Evan's voice hardened slightly as he continued, "I guess they hoped they could blackmail the three firstborns into bunking up together here so we could continue to expand the Mitchell empire."

"I see."

Evan rarely spoke of his family but when he did, I could sense a certain amount of anguish coming off him. After meeting Evan, I'd read up on the Mitchells and learned the original 'Mitchell trio,' two sisters and a brother, had made a name for themselves in the world of politics, business, and entertainment.

The holy trifecta of la cha-ching.

"So...your mom is—"

"The eldest, yeah," he cut me off. "Evelyn Mitchell."

The movie star. That much I already knew.

"Owen's father, my uncle, is Ethan Mitchell."

"The senator," I filled in.

Evan paused for a second, not expecting me to have already known that but continued with a bit more hesitation.

"Yeah. And finally, the youngest is Elina Mitchell. That's Aiden's mom."

The business magnate heading a whole cosmetic line and the fashion industry. This one, I said to myself.

"So you all decided to do your own thing, huh?"

"I s'pose you could put it like that."

A loud honk through the phone and from outside made me jump. I got to my feet and walked over to the bay window in the living room, peering down onto the street.

Evan waved from his car.

"Your chariot awaits Madame."

I smiled and waved back to him. I was curious to know more about his family and background, and fill in a little more of the grays about the guy who was soon to be my roommate. But that could wait until Evan was more comfortable.

"Thanks Ev," I said for probably the hundredth time in twenty-four hours. It certainly wouldn't be the last. "I'll be right down."

The days blurred together. Packing everything in my apartment took longer than I'd anticipated but with Evan's help, my entire life was soon compartmentalized into cardboard boxes by Sunday morning.

I ended my rental contract and handed over my keys to my landlord on a good note. He'd been kind enough to thank for me being a great, trouble-free tenant for several years and even gave me a succulent as a parting gift.

"Looks like you're entering your plant mom era," Evan had teased as we carried the last of the items into his car. He'd already done two round trips back to Cobble Hill while I stayed put and ran final checks to make sure I'd gotten everything. This was the last of it.

I entered the car, keeping the small pot stationed on my lap while Evan loaded in the last of my bags and boxes.

"You good?" he asked me and I nodded, staring up at my apartment window.

"Goodbye 307," I said, somewhat mournfully. That was six years of my life I was walking away from.

Suddenly, it hit me. How much had changed in a matter of days. I had left my job, I was moving apartments, and under financial duress. The panic started to seep up my chest and as Evan got into the front seat, he gave me a concerned glass through the rearview mirror.

"Harp, don't go crying on me now," he said before pausing and adding, "Because you know if you start, I will too. And I need to be driving here."

"I know," I sniffed, my lips lifting at his attempt at humor.

Evan turned around and reached for my hand, giving it a tight squeeze of wordless reassurance.

"You got this, bitch."

I nodded and hugged the plant tighter into my chest.

"I got this, bitch."

I do not got this, bitch.

Two minutes into my new apartment and I knew from the get-go, Aiden and I were going to have problems.

"What is this?" I asked, pointing at an insane number of paintings that stacked and lined up the back-wall of the living room. It looked like a rainbow had thrown up on the white, robbing the common shared space, that was meant to have a minimalist decor, of its simplicity.

"Art," my new roommate answered lounging on the sofa, absolutely unaffected by my anger.

"I can see that," I fumed. "But I need space for my bookshelf."

"Put it in your room."

He had an answer for everything.

I turned to face Evan who sat at the open kitchen, watching us both with a milkshake in his hand.

"A little help here?" I asked, putting a hand on my hip.

"Nah, I'd rather watch," Evan chimed, grinning. "You two are like live reality TV for me."

Aiden snorted at that.

"Ugh," I groaned and grabbed the last of my boxes from the doorway to carry to my room. "Thanks for helping by the way, you're quite the gentleman," I threw snarkily over my shoulder at Aiden who continued to play with his iPad.

"Sure, no problem."

Wow. He wasn't even paying attention.

Fudging Shortcake.

I trudged down the hall, balancing the boxes in my arms while making a beeline for the last room I'd occupied last time. I couldn't wait to design it and set up a writing space closer to the window. The picturesque New York skyline as I concocted more adventures for my online readers was a writer's dream.

I balanced the boxes in one arm while reaching for the door handle when a shadow whizzed past me and slapped my hand away.

"Not here," a moronic grunt supplemented. "Your room's there."

"Excuse me?" I said, popping my head out from behind the boxes. "No, this is my room."

"I called dibs," he dead-panned.

"When?" I countered, baffled. "When did we ever decide on our living arrangements?"

The fucker tossed back his head like some kind of regal prince then sneered.

"When you were too busy packing up your pretty little plants."

I had one plant. ONE.

"You can't just—"

"Here, I'll help you."

Aiden grabbed the top box out of my arms like it weighed nothing, marched past me, down the hall, and kicked open the door to the other room. I followed suit, grumbling to myself and only upon entering did I see all my other boxes had already been stacked up against the wall.

This room was at least a third smaller than the other one. There were no windows except for a tiny rectangular slit-like opening at the top for minimal ventilation. And no attached bathroom.

"Here we go, miss demon-cub," Aiden said, setting down the box and patting his hands. "Feel free to unpack your bookshelf wherever you'd like."

"I'd unpack it up your ass if I could," I glowered, setting the last box down with a thump on the floor before meeting him head-on. "I have more things than you. It's only fair I get the big room."

"Sure," Aiden sneered. "If only you'd cared enough to call dibs first."

What is it with men and their dibs?

I puffed my chest out and Aiden stepped back on instinct, his hand going to his neck. I almost smiled at that. Good. He had the fear.

Instead of attacking him, I did the next best thing.

"EVAN!"

Aiden's shoulders dropped.

"Seriously? You're tattling?"

"You left me no choice."

Aiden's eyes narrowed, his gray eyes darkening over like a storm cloud.

"Wouldn't be the first time you cried wolf, would it?"

I growled at him. Actually growled. And stopped the moment my bestie entered, transforming my face into a pout and glassy-eyed sadness.

"Ev, he stole my room from me and now he's being mean to me."

I wasn't normally a cry baby. Even Evan knew that, his eyes taking in my expression with a knowing glint. I just wanted to test Aiden in my own way, closely analyzing the way his face changed the moment I dragged Evan into this.

The hard frown he had on with me visibly crumbled, early hints of a blush flooding his cheeks as his eyes darted to Evan's.

"That's not true," he said quietly, bowing his head a little, voice considerably lower and softer. It was like he wanted Evan's approval or validation. Cute.

"I just figured I'd need the space in the other room more than she would. For my—"

"Canvas?" Evan prompted, almost encouragingly.

Aiden looked up and a smile transformed his lips. He had dimples. I stared, stunned at how...human he looked when he actually smiled.

"Yeah. I thought I'd do some oil paints now that I have the space to again. Of course, I'm not going to be here forever. I just—"

"Stay as long as you like, A," Evan hushed him, leaning against the doorway with a casual smile. "Our shitty parents owe us this much and there's nothing wrong in using this place to get back on our feet."

Interesting. Very interesting.

"Besides, it's been a while since you went back to painting. I guess with the hard drive out—"

"You're an artist?"

Aiden stiffened visibly, his hands rolling into fists at my question. It was almost like he'd forgotten I was still there, that he was standing in the room he'd designated for me. He looked at me, that one (and still) uneven eyebrow arched in a challenge.

"Yeah. What of it?"

I blinked at his hostility. Deserved, perhaps. But my next words had the aggression sliding off his face, replaced by genuine surprise.

"That's really cool."

"What?" he flinched at my compliment.

"I have a lot of respect for artists. For anyone pursuing it full time. Is that what you do?"

"I—"

"He's an oil painter by passion," Evan answered for him with a wide beaming smile like a proud parent. "But he daytimes as a graphic designer. He's trying to bridge that gap between what's on the canvas and what's on the screen. Isn't that your grand vision, A? To convey 'realism though pixels' or something like that?"

Aiden's face was tomato red. Hold it, was he dragging his foot on the floor in bashful circles?

"Y-yeah."

He was clearly not used to being appreciated for his work.

"Have you done anything I know?"

It was a genuine question. I didn't know much about painting and digital art but I'd been to a handful of art galleries over the years and memorized the names of certain pieces and artists. Aiden didn't react to my curiosity kindly, a darkness consuming his smile as he glared at me.

"Have you heard the name Aiden Mitchell before?" he griped at me.

"Uh..."

That would be a no.

"Exactly."

With that, he stalked out of my room, squeezing his way through the door past Evan with an "excuse me."

I stared quizzically at Evan.

"What was that about?"

"Like I said," Evan sighed, unfolding his arms and looking over his shoulder at the retreating figure of his beloved baby cuz. "He's just really into his work."

My eyes wandered to the hall past him and the living room that waited on the other side.

"The paintings on the wall? Are those his?"

Evan smiled.

"That's something you'll have to ask him, babes."

"But—"

"Consider it a good bonding exercise," Evan added with a wink. "Now, I have to get going"

"What?"

I leaped across the room and hugged Evan tight, anchoring him in place.

"Stay!"

I loved Evan but I'd never been this desperate for his company before.

"Better yet, move in too!"

All Evan did was chuckle and pat my head like I was an overeager dog.

"There, there. You'll survive."

With ease, he pried my arms off of him and left my room with a wave.

"See you later Harper! Let me know if you need anything else."

I hung back in the hallway, watching him depart with all the sorrow of a wife seeing her husband off to war, never to know when he'd return again. Except in this case, I was the one staying put in the war zone. And he was ditching me.

I heard him share a few words with Aiden before the front door clicked shut.

And then, silence.

A silence so loud that continued for the next half hour, it was almost deafening. I was very aware of the hot-blooded living thing in the apartment with me but I had to find a way to get used to his presence. If not used to it, at least tolerate it.

Blaring more Taylor Swift tunes on my Bluetooth speaker, I started to unpack. Much to my relief, the front door slammed shut not two minutes after Welcome to New York started playing.

So, Aiden Mitchell wasn't a Swiftie.

Red flag, Harper, red flag.

_____

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Song: Welcome to New York by Taylor Swift

P.S. Is it just me or does this chapter update feel like it's been after a century? 

Unfortunately, *I say in my best McGonagall voice* I must regret to inform you that the wait for the next one will be a bit longer. 

With some family events taking up all my time this week, I won't be able to deliver the chapter on Friday. The next chapter update will be on Tuesday, buuuut I might be convinced to publish sometime this weekend if we hit a vote goal of 15 for this part! ;)