Bad Rep

SIXTEEN

I move out of the doorway and Rhodes steps into my apartment, shoving his hands into the pockets of his gym shorts, looking only a little less awkward than I feel. His huge frame invades the small space, making it feel ten times smaller and me ten times antsier.

I quickly scramble to the kitchen and open the refrigerator. "Would you like something to drink? I have water and... water," I state lamely, staring into the empty appliance.

Since coming to the apartment, I haven't picked up any real groceries. I've only been here a few days and had a case of water and some premade meals and protein bars delivered straight to the front door—still being conscious of my diet, trying to minimize my calories, especially now that I'm back to trying to lose weight.

"Water is good," he says.

I grab two water bottles and meet him halfway, handing him one. He uncaps it and takes a swig. I do the same.

"So, how long have you had this place?" he asks, trying to fill the silence, his eyes scanning the pathetic, nearly empty apartment.

I take another sip before responding. "For a few years. My sister and I got it back in college and then I moved in with Eli and she left. I honestly don't know why I still have it," I admit, an embarrassed, self-deprecating laugh coming from the back of my throat. "But I guess it worked in my favor, or else I'd have nowhere to go," I try to joke, but there's still a hint of bitterness to my tone.

I catch the slight tick of Rhodes's jaw. His eyes scan the empty area once more. "Do you have any of your stuff here?"

I take another sip of water, shying my gaze away and shaking my head.

All of my clothes, toiletries, and other belongings are still at ho—Eli's. Eli's place, now. I never went back to get them because I don't want the confrontation or any of the painful memories flooding back, stepping into a place I use to call home. A place with a person I thought was going to be my forever.

Face hard, Rhodes takes another gulp of water before capping the bottle and setting it on the kitchen table. "Let's go," he says, keys jingling as he digs them out of his pocket.

A jolt of surprise runs through me at his abrupt, determined words. "What? Go where?" I question, confused.

"We're going to go get your stuff," he declares, already walking to the door.

Beyond shocked and flustered, my feet instinctively scramble after him in a flash of panic. "Wait, wh—what?"

He looks over his broad, tattooed shoulder at me while pushing the front door open. "We're going to go get your stuff," he reiterates, sounding just as determined as the first time he said it.

I gape at him. "Rhodes, we can't just go get my stuff!"

"Sure we can."

"But Eli—"

"What about him?" he asks, almost daringly, darkly. Like the possibility of Eli being home doesn't affect him whatsoever. In fact, it almost seems to excite him.

I shake my head. "It's not worth the hassle. I have plenty of stuff here," I lie.

Aside from the few groceries I had delivered, I also ordered a few outfits online to last me the week until I figured something out. But the week is coming up fast and I'm running out of clothes to wear.

I watch as his jaw works beneath the skin and he bites his tongue. "Eli's probably not even home," he says, his eyes shifting to the small digital clock on the stove. "Isn't he usually at the gym at this time?"

I follow his gaze to the clock and realize he's probably right. Plus, Eli's almost always at the gym, anyway.

I nod, swallowing thickly, my belly swirling with unease. "But what if he is home?"