Home > Crave Thy Neighbor (Roommate Romps #3)

Crave Thy Neighbor (Roommate Romps #3)
Author: Teagan Hunter

1

 

 

Maya

 

 

I am completely screwed.

Well, not completely, because I can’t get screwed screwed to save my life.

Okay, fine. Not to save my life, just to save my vagina from developing cobwebs.

I’m getting way off track here…

I nibble on my thumbnail, a disgusting habit I really should give up, and stare at the email pulled up on my laptop screen.

 

* * *

 

TO: [email protected]

FROM: [email protected]

SUBJECT: APPLICATION STATUS

 

* * *

 

Dear Ms. West,

We regret to inform you your application for the two-bedroom apartment at WHITE OAK APARTMENTS has been denied for:

 

* * *

 

NO AVAILABLE UNITS

 

* * *

 

We thank you for your interest in being part of the WHITE OAK APARTMENTS community. We wish you the best in your apartment search.

 

* * *

 

Lauren Stein

Leasing Manager

 

* * *

 

It’s not the first email like this I’ve received, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.

In the last six weeks since I received notice from my landlord that the building is being sold and demolished, I’ve put applications in on anything I can find.

Unfortunately, since everyone else in my building is doing the same, and due to the fact that we live in a small Colorado town where the supply of affordable living is already scant, well…the pickings are slim.

It’s been one big game of hurry up and wait, and I’m almost out of time to wait.

My lease will officially be terminated at the end of the month. If I can’t find something soon, I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do with myself and my almost-thirteen-year-old son when we’re scraping by as it is.

I navigate back to my inbox and click on the email from my landlord.

 

* * *

 

TO: [email protected]

FROM: [email protected]

SUBJECT: EXTENSION

 

* * *

 

Ms. West,

I wish I had a better reply for you, but my hands are tied. The deal has been finalized and there’s no possible way to extend it. The buyer was clear: all occupants must vacate the premises by the end of the month.

Please know this decision was not made lightly. Trust me, if I could have told him to screw off, I would have. The last thing this town needs is another outdoor sports equipment shop.

I’ve not made this public knowledge, but being a single mom yourself, I’m sure you’ll understand…Katlyn is sick, and unfortunately, the medical and medication bills are stacking up. Selling wasn’t what I wanted, but it’s the best solution I can come up with for my daughter.

You’ve been a great tenant over the years, and I’d be happy to write you a letter of recommendation should you need one.

I’m sorry about this. Please let me know if I can do anything.

 

* * *

 

Best,

Dan Ford

Danford Apartments Owner

 

* * *

 

Like it did the first, second, and third time I read his email, my heart sinks.

Hell, it breaks for him.

Katlyn and my son, Sam, are the same age. I can’t imagine watching Sam going through anything that would cause him pain.

I’d sell the damn building too.

It’s hard to be angry at him, which sucks because I could use someone or something to be angry at right now.

“Crap, crap, crap,” I chant, bouncing my head off the back of the couch a few times.

I lay my head against the cushion, stretch my neck toward the sky, and blow out a long breath.

What am I going to do? I have nowhere to go. Either nobody has apartments available or, if they do, they are out of my price range or out of the school district. I’ve checked out a few houses, but most are on the outskirts of town and not in the best shape or are owned by people I do not want to be renting from. If all I had to worry about was myself, fine. I could manage it. But with Sam in tow, I can’t take on a potential problem like that.

I wish I could afford to buy us a house, but I don’t have money for a down payment.

My best friend, River, offered to let Sam and me move in with her and her boyfriend, Dean, until I could find a place, but three adults, a teenager, and two pets—one being a cat who is a major asshole—sharing a small, two-bedroom apartment? So not a good idea. We’d all kill each other within a day or two.

Since my parents are out of the question entirely, my only other choice is my ex-husband, Patrick.

If I needed to—like I had zero other options—I could go to him. He wasn’t the best husband, but he’d never reject me if I needed help. Except the last thing I want to do is go running back to him and show him I’ve failed on my own. Just picturing the satisfied grin on his face has my stomach aching.

Tears sting my eyes, and I do everything I can to fight them off. The last thing I need is for Sam to walk in here and see me crying. I’ve worked hard to be strong for him throughout the years, and I’m not going to change that now.

That’s right.

I’m strong.

Hell, I managed a teenage pregnancy all on my own when my parents wanted nothing to do with me. Finding a place to live with the deadline inching closer and closer? Piece of cake compared to that.

I lift my head, determination coursing through my body.

I can fix this. I’m not sure how, but I can.

“Yo, Mom, what time are you leaving?”

Speaking of my teenage pregnancy…

I snap the laptop closed before he can see what’s on the screen. I don’t need to bother Sam with this stuff. It’s my problem, not his.

I push up off the couch and move toward the kitchen, shoving the computer back into my bag where it hangs off the chair at the bar. Sam knows getting into my work bag is prohibited, so I know it’s at least safe from his prying eyes in there.

“Why? Curious how much longer you have on your GameStation?”

“Mom.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s a PlayStation, not a GameStation.”

“Roll your eyes at me again and I’ll take your GameStation right back to the store.”

He starts to lift his eyes skyward again, then thinks better of it when I raise my brow at him.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “What time is Dad getting here?”

I glance at the clock on the stove. “He said he’d be here about six thirty.”

“Cool. Can I get ice cream after dinner?”

“You’ll have to ask your father.”

“He’ll say yes. He always does.”

Of course Patrick always says yes to ice cream. He’s the cool parent.

We share custody of Sam. Oftentimes he’ll spend a week at my place and then a week at his father’s.

And oftentimes he’ll come home with shiny new gadgets or telling me about all the cool stuff he did with his dad.

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