Julian watched as Alex practically fled to her room, the sound of her door clicking shut echoing through the hallway. His lips turned into a crooked smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes.
He stood there for a moment as the silence settled around him.
A part of him wanted to go after her. To pin her against the wall, to taste her lips again, to feel her shudder beneath his touch.
But he stayed rooted in his spot.
His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he tried to control himself. He glanced down at his pants and inwardly groaned at the unmistakable bulge.
Ridiculous.
It was insane how this woman he barely knew managed to arouse him every damn time. Just a glance. A smirk. Her voice.
And that was exactly the problem.
She was a stranger.
Hell, he was a stranger. Not just to her, but to himself.
His jaw tightened as he dragged a hand through his hair in frustration.
Who was he really? What kind of man was he before the accident?
What if he had a girlfriend? A fiancée? Or a wife? Family, holding on to hope.
Someone who loved him... and had no idea he was here.
The thought cooled his blood faster than a cold shower. His chest tightened, and for a brief second, he felt like he couldn't breathe.
Until he knew the truth—until he remembered who he truly was—he couldn't act on his impulses. No matter how tempting.
So, as much as he found this strange, sharp-tongued housemate attractive, he couldn't do anything.
Not yet.
"If only…" he murmured wistfully, voice barely above a whisper.
So he turned away from her door, and with a last glance, he disappeared into his room.
*
Meanwhile,
In her room, Alexandra lay on her bed, freshly bathed but far from relaxed.
Sleep wouldn't come.
Julian was partly to blame after their weird encounter that evening, but the main reason for her irritation was the comment on her screen. The harsh, glaring review that Ellen had left on her business page.
It was a cold, one-star, cutting comment. Smearing her work like it was nothing.
Putting her phone aside, she stared at her dark ceiling, jaw clenched. She hadn't gotten a bad review in ages. And yet, that one spiteful comment was enough to bring down her rating—not by much, but enough to sour her mood.
It wasn't fair.
They were the ones who came to her and started trouble. And now Ellen had the nerve to act like she was the problem?
Today, they even dared to bring up her mother and that incident. The one thing she had worked hard to keep buried. No one was supposed to know.
Thinking about her mother, her fingers drifted down to her stomach under the soft fabric of her pajamas. Her fingers brushed the scar beneath. Faint scars like that littered her skin in places she couldn't reach.
They were a reminder. Her anger wasn't just for Ellen; it was for her mother, too.
Alex let out a breath. She wouldn't let this go. Not this time. They would regret it.
*
By morning, Alex groggily dragged herself out of bed, her stomach growling loudly. Her hunger overpowered both her irritation and her fatigue.
She shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from her eyes, but paused halfway to sniff the air.
The air was thick with the warm, mouthwatering scent of something frying. Something smelled good.
Julian was already there in an apron, hair sticking out in all directions as he focused intently on the pan in front of him.
She blinked, thrown off by what was happening.
Curiosity piqued, she stepped closer. "Good morning," she mumbled, her voice still scratchy from sleep. She peered over his shoulder. "What are you making?"
"Bacon, fried eggs, and pancakes," he replied, flipping the bacon slowly without turning to look at her.
Judging from the sizzle and smoke coming from the pan, she figured he needed some help. "Let me do it."
She reached for the spoon, but he gently nudged her back with his elbow. "I can do it." He insisted, eyes still locked on the pan.
Alex crossed her arms, biting back a smirk. His determination amused her. "We use sugar for pancakes, not salt."
That made him pause. He glanced sideways at her with a sharp glare.
Lifting up her hands in surrender, she added innocently, "It's just a friendly reminder."
Julian's gaze drifted down to her bare legs, peeking from beneath her pajama shorts. Her arms crossed instinctively.
"What?" she asked, raising a brow.
"Nothing," he said quickly, eyes snapping back to the pan as he resumed cooking.
She rolled her eyes and pulled out a stool to sit on the kitchen island, watching him with curiosity and silently praying that the food wouldn't kill her.
Eventually, a plate was set in front of her: scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes. Julian took the seat across from her, watching her in anticipation.
Alex eyed the food suspiciously before picking up the fork, choosing the safest option first. The eggs. It was hard to mess up eggs.
She took a bite.
And instantly regretted it.
"Is it good?" Julian asked, leaning forward eagerly.
Her eyes widened as her taste buds were violently assaulted. She reached for the glass of water and downed it in one go, trying not to gag.
She had never tasted anything so salty in her life.
"It's so good," she said, voice strained. She forced a smile through the grimace. "You should try it."
Julian beamed and scooped a mouthful of eggs. One bite in, his entire expression crumpled. He spat the eggs out and groaned. "That's terrible."
Alex burst out laughing, tossing her head back with a squeal of amusement. "Did you empty the whole salt shaker into the eggs?"
"I thought it would be better if I added more," he muttered, grimacing as he chugged his own glass of water.
"You must've grown up with personal chefs if you don't even know how to fry an egg," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.
She took a bite of the pancakes and bacon, and was pleasantly surprised. They weren't half bad.
She decided to stick with those, and Julian followed suit.
They ate quietly, agreeing to ignore the lingering awkwardness from the previous night. It hung between them.
"For your compensation," she said casually between bites, "we're going somewhere exciting today. Dress casual."
Julian looked up. "Don't you have a wedding to plan?"
"I'm allowed to take a day off," she replied coolly, finishing the last bite of her pancake. Her tone was light, but she avoided eye contact.
"We'll leave in two hours," she added, pushing away from the table and heading toward her room, leaving him bewildered and intrigued.