Billionaire Romance Boxed Set 1(137)

The apartments had been cleaned, and heated, and there were already two students there by the time I arrived. The landlady had moved out half of the bunkbeds—to another set of apartments? I didn’t know—and the rooms looked larger, more inviting. I slung my suitcase, heavier now from my trip with Marta, over onto the bunk next to the window.

“Brynn!” A familiar voice at my back caused me to spin around.

“Mark!”

I ran toward him and barreled into a hug. It had been only a couple of weeks since we had last seen each other, but in my mind it felt like forever had passed. He smiled at me, awkwardly, and I thought that he seemed younger than I remembered. Probably, though, it was just the contrast of spending time with Eliot and Marta.

“How have you been?” he asked. “This place looks cool!”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” I said. “I haven’t seen that much of the city.” Just the castle that Eliot lives in.

Mark left to unpack in the guys’ room, and we spent the rest of the evening with the other students who trickled in from the airport. Some carried huge suitcases full of clothes, pictures, and reminders of home. One guy arrived with just a backpack over his shoulder and immediately went to sleep in one of the kitchen chairs. All of the girls in my room seemed nice enough, although one shy brunette shook my hand, said “Hello” in Hungarian, and immersed herself in a book in the corner of the bedroom.

Chatting with Karen, another California girl, I finally was beginning to find myself somewhat at ease. She reminded me of my roommate, Shannon—artsy as hell, and passionate about her photography. She was in the middle of telling me a story about her freshman linear algebra professor when another girl stepped into the middle of the doorway of the bedroom. Her heels clicked loudly on the floor, and she dropped her suitcase with a loud thwack, tossing her perfectly slicked hair behind her. One hand on her hip, a scowl on her face, she reminded me of nothing else so much as a pissed off supermodel.

“Whose cat is that in the kitchen?”

“He was here when I got here!” I said brightly, turning to her with a smile of good intentions. “His name is Lucky. I’m Brynn.”

“I don’t give a shit what his name is,” she said, pressing her lips together and letting me finish her sentence for her in my mind: and I don’t give a shit what your name is either.

“The landlady said it was okay as long as we keep the rooms clean—”

“No.” The girl shook her head from side to side so definitively that my hands began to clench in my lap.

“What do you mean, no?” Karen spoke up.

“Are you allergic?” I asked.

“I’m not living with a goddamn cat,” the girl spat out.

“Seriously?” Karen said. I could have hugged her right then and there for sticking up for Lucky.

“Okay,” I said. I hated confrontation. “Okay. We’ll find him a new place to stay tomorrow.”

“Not tomorrow,” the girl said. She picked up her bag and swung it onto the empty bed beside her, turning again to leave the room. “Now. I’m putting him out back in the alley.”

“What the hell?” Karen said, the other girl’s footsteps echoing through the hallway as she went. “That’s so not cool.”

“I have to make sure he’s okay,” I said, standing up to follow the new girl to the kitchen.

I passed her in the hallway as she was coming back from the alley exit. She didn’t even look at me as she brushed past, the scowl still plastered on her dark, beautiful face.

“Lucky?” The night air outside felt brisk, and I hadn’t put a coat on. A few snowflakes drifted down under the alley streetlights. “Lucky?”

A plaintive meow came from the other side of the alley, and a small blur of gray and white came dashing over to my feet. I picked up the kitten.

“You poor thing,” I said, holding him close and feeling him shiver through his thin coat. What could I do? Maybe I could leave a blanket outside for him, make him a bed. I didn’t know if that would be enough. I couldn’t leave him to freeze to death outside. He might get run over by a car, or attacked by a stray dog. All of the terrible possibilities ran through my mind, and I stood there, motionless, not knowing what I could possibly do to save him.

“Brynn?”

I turned to see Mark in the doorway, his dark hair haloed by yellow light.

“Brynn, you’re nuts! Where’s your coat?”

“I—I—” My voice caught on the first syllable, and then I was sobbing, letting all of my frustration and anger and pity boil up and out of me. Mark stepped down and put his arms around me in an uncertain embrace, with Lucky caught between us. He meowed, butting his head against Mark’s chest and expecting a pet.