It Started with a Crack by Piper James

Chapter Seven

Dakota

Adrenaline still coursed through me, making my chest heave with heavy pants as I stared at Noah, the bamboo back-scratcher still gripped tightly in my fist. It was a pitiful weapon, I knew, but it was the only thing I could find when I heard the soft footsteps on the front porch.

When I’d heard the door unlocking, I assumed someone was picking the lock. I’d flicked off the lights and hid in the darkness, swinging the damn thing at the dark shadow slipping through the doorway. I’d never been so fucking scared in my life.

And Noah was looking at me like I was the one in the wrong.

“I asked you what you’re doing here,” he demanded, rubbing his fingertips over his temple.

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” I spat, tapping my bare toes against the wood flooring.

“This is my ranch,” he said simply.

“I’m aware,” I replied, my tone dry. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re sneaking in here like an axe-murderer, scaring the shit out of me.”

“Sneaking?” he barked with a fake laugh. “I’m not the one who doesn’t belong here, Dakota.”

That stung, because he was right. I didn’t belong here, and he did. I shook my head. No. I did belong here. I’d been invited. Fuck, Ryder practically ordered me to move in, paid for the truck, and muscled my furniture in here, himself.

“Ryder told me I could stay here for a while,” I said, keeping my voice even and neutral.

“Why would he do that?” he asked, then shook his head. “No. This doesn’t make any sense. You’re our realtor.”

Ouch. That stung more than I would’ve liked to admit. Was that all he saw me as? A professional acquaintance?

Stop it, Dakota. It doesn’t matter what Noah Perry thinks of you. He’s a douche canoe.

“I lost my apartment,” I said, hating the way my face heated with the admission. “I had nowhere to go, and Ryder and Belle insisted I stay here until it sells, and I can use the commission to find a new place.”

Noah’s face softened, and my anger spiked. I did not need his pity. I needed answers.

“So, now that we’ve cleared that up, mind telling me what the fuck you’re doing here at this hour?”

His eyes narrowed at my accusatory tone, all traces of pity vanishing. “I’m moving in here for a while.”

“The hell you are,” I shouted before I could stop myself.

One black brow arched at my outburst, and he tilted his head to study me. That blasted heat flowed up my neck into my face again, and I made a show of stomping back into the living room and plopping onto the couch, my flimsy wooden weapon still gripped in my tight fingers.

Noah followed, but remained standing as he surveyed the room. I felt my embarrassment rising as he took in the old, mismatched furniture and the ratty blanket I’d been snuggled under while reading my book. I discreetly flipped the edge of the blanket over the paperback, hiding the bare-chested eye candy on the cover.

Finally, his dark eyes landed back on me. His mouth tilted up on one side as he moved in and slumped onto the couch next to me. I scooted away from him, tucking myself into the corner while I stared at him with incredulous eyes.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my words quick and breathless.

“I’m getting comfortable,” he said, shifting his weight back and forth. “Or, at least as comfortable as I can on this awful couch.”

The insult rolled off my skin as the true implication of his words struck me.

“Don’t get too comfortable. You’re leaving.” When he didn’t budge, I added, “Right?”

He shook his head. “I can’t get a new lease on the rental. The owners decided to let their kid move in, so I have no place else to go. I guess that makes us roomies.”

I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face, but managed to contain myself.

“No. We. Are. Not,” I gritted out.

“Feel free to leave,” he said, holding out a hand toward the door before dropping it to his lap with a frown. “Wait. I didn’t see your car out front.”

“It broke down,” I mumbled irately. My anger at my piece of shit car only exacerbated my rage at this whole situation.

“It’s in the repair shop?” he asked, his voice softer.

“No,” I said, shaking my head as I stared at the back-scratcher in my fist. “I can’t afford to fix it. Yet. It’s parked in the lot at the shop until I get the money for the repairs.”

Silence stretched between us for several seconds while I refused to meet his eyes. I reached over and set my makeshift weapon on the scarred coffee table beside me.

“Dakota,” Noah said softly, pulling my gaze to him. He cleared his throat, and in a firmer voice said, “I guess that means we’re stuck together. Put it there, roomie.”

I stared at his outstretched hand incredulously before looking back at his face without shaking it.

“The hell we are,” I said. “This is so not happening.”

* * *

It was totally happening.

I spent all night on my phone—the one bill I’d managed to pay before I ran out of money—searching for a house or an apartment…for Noah. I was well and truly stuck. Even if I had the money for a deposit and first month’s rent on a place, I’d never get approved with a recent eviction on my credit report.

But Noah? Noah could live anywhere. He had the money and the means to buy or lease any place he wanted, and I’d been determined to find the perfect spot for him.

When I showed him the list I’d come up with this morning, he’d looked at the listings with a frown marring his face. Then he’d handed my phone back to me with a shake of his head.

“None of those work for me.”

“What about the place on Morningstar?” I asked pulling the listing back up before turning the screen toward him.

“It’s too big. I don’t need that much space.”

“It’s smaller than this ranch,” I said, my eyebrows scrunching low over my eyes.

“But I already own this place,” he said, spreading my butter over the toast he made from my bread.

Shit. Who am I kidding? Ryder stocked the fridge and the pantry, so they’re not really mine.

“So?” I said in response to his asinine statement.

“Why would I buy a new place, one I don’t want, when I already own a place I don’t want that I can live in until I find a place I do want?”

It took a couple of seconds for my brain to wrap around his words and glean some meaning out of them, but when it did, I propped my fists on my hips and glared at him.

“Because I am living here,” I said. “You can always sell the new place when you find something you like better.”

“Oh, like it’s that easy?” he asked, arching that damn brow at me again.

I knew he was getting in a dig at my inability to sell this place, but I refused to engage. I needed to stay focused, especially when every muscle in his arms and chest was on display through the thin material of his white t-shirt.

What? No. Stop it, Dakota. You hate his muscles. They’re too…bulgy.

Fuck. Now I was thinking about all his bulges. Forcing my eyes to stay above shoulder-level, I recited facts about what an asshole he was in my head as I made my way to the fancy coffee maker he brought in from his truck last night.

He’s a man-whore.

He asked two women for a threesome after coming on to me all night.

He’s an entitled brat.

And his hair’s too long. Long enough for me to yank while he—

“Dakota, did you hear me?”

“What?” I yelped, spinning around to face him and sloshing hot coffee over my fingers in the process. “Shit!”

I set the cup down and shoved my fingers into my mouth on instinct. I sucked the coffee off as I pulled them out, then shook my hand so the air would cool the sting. Noah cleared his throat, pulling my attention back to him. His face was flushed as he shook his head slightly.

“I said I think we can come to an agreement that will work for both of us,” he said, but his voice sounded weird.

Too deep. Almost…husky. What the hell was happening?

“What kind of agreement?’ I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“We can live here—as roommates—until the ranch sells and you have the money to find your own place. Or until I find a place of my own…whichever comes first.”

“I don’t know,” I said, feeling my resolve weaken.

What other choice did I have? Noah had more right to be here than I did, and I had nowhere else to go.

“Listen,” he said, leaning back against the counter as he took a bite of his toast and chewed it thoughtfully. "I promise, it’ll be fine. I know how to be a decent roommate. I’ll clean up my own messes, I’ll do my own laundry, and I’ll even front the bill for the groceries until you’re back on your feet. What do you have to lose?”

My mind. My pride. My self-respect.

But I didn’t say any of those things. I just nodded, and this time, I shook his hand when he moved closer and held it out to me.

It felt like I was making a deal with the devil. But what other choice did I have?

Like him or not, he was throwing me a lifeline. Ryder said I could stay here, but that was before he knew Noah needed a place to live, too. And Noah could’ve kicked me out. He didn’t have to let me stay here with him, and was actually being kind in his offer to be roommates.

I just hoped I didn’t live to regret this.