Strangers To Lovers

Chapter Sixteen

When Luke slid his phone across the table toward me, I was sitting in his kitchen, scrolling through rental ads. The two of us had been looking through various apartment postings online for what felt like hours, but nothing seemed to click. Suddenly, I saw a three-bedroom, two-bathroom house that looked too good to be true. My eyes widened as I read the price.

"Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, only two thousand dollars a month," I said aloud, shaking my head. It seemed like a steal, but I wasn’t sure I could afford that on my own.

Dylan, who had been helping me with the search, chuckled from his seat across the table. "You’re not getting anything decent under 1,000 in this city," he said with a grin. "You need to set your expectations lower unless you’re planning to live in a shoebox."

I scowled at him, tugging Luke's phone toward me, unwilling to accept his advice. "I don’t need anything fancy, but I refuse to live in some run-down shack," I replied, the frustration evident in my voice.

Dylan, unfazed by my irritation, leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. "If you want something livable, you’ll have to pay for it. It’s either that or a cardboard box. Look at your current apartment—anything that's halfway decent costs real money."

I knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any less annoying. I could afford a decent place with Luke’s help, but it still felt like too big of a commitment. What if things didn’t work out and I was left paying for an expensive place on my own? I didn’t want to become dependent on Luke, no matter how tempting it was.

Dylan seemed to notice the hesitation in my expression. He rolled up the sleeves of his button-up shirt, revealing strong forearms, and leaned forward, his suit vest still hanging loosely over his shoulders. "Statistically speaking," he said in a serious tone, "one-third of your income should go toward housing."

I stared at him, my mind briefly wandering at how different our lives were. "Do you rent a place?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the mental math.

He smirked, giving me a pointed look. "Nope. I own. I just picked up a few properties to rent out to others. Real estate is a solid investment."

I blinked, stunned by how casually he mentioned owning multiple properties. "How many?" I asked, my voice laced with disbelief.

"Ten," he replied with a shrug, as if it were nothing.

I gaped at him, trying to process the difference in our lives. Here I was, struggling to find a decent apartment, and he casually owned ten properties. I resisted the urge to bang my head on the table in frustration.

Dylan chuckled at my reaction, clearly amused. "Look, I know it’s not easy, but I’m happy to help you figure things out," he said, his voice softening a little. "If you want, I could even make an offer on one of the apartments you're interested in and rent it to you at a discount."

I glanced at him sharply, unsure if he was being serious. The way he smiled, though, made me think he was at least half-joking. "I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll pass on renting from you," I said with a dry laugh.

"You sure?" he teased. "I’d make an awesome landlord."

"That’s exactly what I’m afraid of," I replied, smirking.

He grinned, then leaned back again, his expression growing more serious. "Luke mentioned you’re in a tight spot right now. He’s a good guy, you know. Just… complicated."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that your way of saying he’s a handful?"

Dylan laughed, shaking his head. "Something like that. He’s got a lot on his plate, and honestly, I don’t think he even knows what he wants half the time."