“As long as there’s an internet connection.”
“Okay, that’s only half-accurate.”
“I get it. Just play something on the damn laptop already so I can turn my brain off and zone in on someone else’s story for a minute.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
The next morning, Cheyenne went out to grab them breakfast sandwiches and lattes from some bakery trying to play off upscale chic two blocks away. By the time she got back to the apartment, three huge guys in matching shirts walked out her front door.
“Uh, can I help you?”
“We got it, but thanks.” The tallest guy with both arms covered in tattoos gave her a friendly smile and a nod, then the guys headed down the hall toward the elevators. “Em?”
“Yeah!”
She found her fae friend leaning over an open box on the floor, pulling out the wrapping of whatever she’d bought. She’s gonna fall out of that chair. Cheyenne turned around and grabbed the door.
“Oh, hey. Leave that open.”
“Enlighten me as to why, exactly?”
Ember looked up and laughed. “I ordered more stuff. And I’m pretty sure I can get those guys to help me with the curtains when they bring up the next couple boxes.”
“Em, it’s not even nine-thirty in the morning.”
“Yeah, I’m getting a head start.”
Stepping over opened boxes and loose pieces of packaging, Cheyenne made it safely to the coffee table to set down their breakfast and coffee. She almost fell on her face when her next step was jerked back by packing tape stuck to both the area rug and the bottom of her shoe. “I feel like I’m walking on a minefield.”
“Sorry.” Ember chuckled and wadded up the loose piece of packing paper. “You know what I need? One of those claws on a stick.”
“A trash grabber?”
“Exactly! Trust me, I’ve already figured out how far I can bend down in this chair, and it’s not all the way to the floor. I should order one.”
Cheyenne stared at her friend, then she hooked her fingers into claws and roared, throwing her head back. “I’ve created a monster!”
Ember jumped in her chair, barked a laugh, and threw the balled-up paper at the halfling’s face.
“It’s destroying the apartment and taking my sanity with it!” Cheyenne stomped around, her voice bouncing off the wall of windows and the hardwood floors.
“I’ll destroy you.” Ember laughed when the halfling snarled in her face, shaking her head with her tongue hanging out. “Seriously, what the hell are you doing?”
“Ahh! Raaawwrrrrrr—”
Someone cleared their throat in the doorway, and Cheyenne shut her mouth before slowly turning to see who was there.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.” A tall man in his early thirties stood outside the open door, his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans.
The halfling stayed in her crouch, hovering over Ember’s chair with her monster claws. “Kinda.”
“Shut up.” Ember smacked her friend’s arm, and Cheyenne chuckled before giving up the act. “Sorry. There’ve been a lot of people in and out of here already this morning. Remind me who you are?”
“Well, we haven’t met yet, so don’t feel bad if you don’t remember me.” With a lazy, crooked smile, the man ducked his head to peer around the apartment and raised his eyebrows. “I thought they used this apartment for showings?”
“Not anymore.” Cheyenne spread her arms and crunched across a pile of bubble wrap toward the front door. “You have your eye on this place or something?”
“No.” He glanced at her briefly, still smiling, and bent through the doorway to look up at the bottom of the mini loft. “I live across the hall. Seemed a little weird to have so many people stomping up and down, and the curiosity finally got me.” The man pointed to the loft. “You know, I really wanted one of those.”
Cheyenne snorted. “Yeah, me too.”
“How’d you pull that off?”
“Oh, you know. Just negotiated a good deal.”
Nodding, he straightened again and stayed put in the hall. “Well done.”
“Thank you. I’d stick your name on the end of that, but you haven’t given it yet.”
The man blinked quickly and finally looked at her for the first time. Then he stuck out his hand. “Matthew Thomas.”
“Hey, Matthew Thomas, neighbor across the hall.” The halfling grabbed his hand with her usual firm grip, which made his smile grow wider. “Cheyenne.”
“I’m assuming you have a last name.”
“Yep.” She raised her eyebrows and stepped aside to gesture toward Ember. “This is—oh, crap.”
Ember had gotten the wheels of her chair tied up in loose strips of packing tape, and her struggle to push free had made it worse. Cheyenne jogged across the room and bent to rip off the tape before muttering, “You should’ve said something.”
“Yeah?” Ember gritted her teeth and added in a harsh whisper, “I should’ve shouted across the room, ‘Someone help me. I’m stuck in a wad of tape and can’t free myself’?”
“Sorry.” Cheyenne crumbled the tape into a tight ball and tossed it on the kitchen island. Then she straightened and nodded at Matthew Thomas standing in their doorway. “This is—”
“Ember. Hi.” The fae wheeled back to chart a new course around the scattered boxes and packing trash. Cheyenne hurried in front of her to kick as much as she could out of the way.
“Hey, don’t worry about braving the wreckage,” Matthew said. “I helped my sister move recently. I totally get the chaos. Mind if I come in?”
“Enter at your own risk, but sure.”
Ember shot Cheyenne a warning glance, and the halfling shrugged in reply. What crawled in her lap?
“Yeah, I don’t envy anyone the—” Matthew grunted as he stepped over a stack of boxes, then side-stepped to avoid more piles of bubble wrap. “Dangers of unpacking.” He finally reached Ember in the center of the living room and stuck out his hand. “Matthew.”
The fae’s eyes narrowed as she reached up to shake their neighbor’s hand.
