Chapter 4 Deal and Deadlines

ROSE

I already knew Drake Morvane was a total weirdo, but what happened at the apartment this morning was on another level.

First, he touched my cheek, making my heart race, and then suddenly his whole body tensed up. He glanced at his phone, his face going pale. When the front doorknob started to jiggle from the outside, Drake moved fast, like he was hunting something.

He didn’t open the door. Instead, he grabbed my arm, pulled me behind him, and locked three heavy deadbolts in seconds. I heard quick footsteps running away down the hall, but Drake didn’t go after them.

He just stared at the door, chest heaving, before clutching that mysterious black burner phone and giving me a look that could kill.

"We're going to the housing office. Right now," he'd growled, refusing to answer a single one of my questions.

And so, here we were.

The University of Toronto Housing Office smelled like damp winter coats and bureaucratic failure.

We'd been sitting in two incredibly uncomfortable plastic chairs for the last forty-five minutes. Well, I was sitting. Drake was pacing the small room like a caged panther, his massive six-foot-three frame practically sucking all the oxygen out of the space.

Every student who walked past the glass door stopped, stared, and did a double-take at the Varsity Blues hockey captain looming over the receptionist's desk.

"What do you mean, system migration error?"

Drake's voice didn't rise, but it had this low, dangerous edge that made the poor middle-aged woman behind the desk visibly sweat. He leaned his hands on the counter, his broad shoulders tensing under his heavy team jacket.

"I mean exactly what I said, Mr. Morvane," she squeaked, clicking her mouse nervously. "The system double-booked Apartment 4B during the winter term transition. It's an administrative glitch. But because it's mid-semester, every single off-campus and on-campus housing unit is at one hundred percent capacity."

I sat up, my heart sinking. "Wait. What does that mean? Where am I supposed to go?"

The woman looked at me with pity and helplessness. "Until a room opens up, which usually doesn't happen until spring graduation in three months, the university cannot reassign either of you. Technically, you both have legally binding, university-backed leases for the same space."

"No," Drake said flatly. "Absolutely not. Fix it."

"I can't fix a lack of physical space, Mr Morvane," she said, her voice a little firmer now. "You'll both get a twenty per cent discount on your monthly rent for the inconvenience, but until someone drops out or graduates... you're going to have to share."

"Share?" Drake echoed, a dark, disbelieving laugh escaping his lips. He turned around, his icy blue eyes locking onto me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. "You expect me to share my space with a stranger during the most critical month of the season?"

"Unless one of you wants to break the lease and forfeit your deposit voluntarily, yes," she replied, already looking past us to the next student in line. "Next, please."

I stood up, my mind spinning. I couldn’t leave. I didn’t have the money for a hotel, let alone a new apartment in Toronto’s tough housing market with only a day’s notice. And after that weird doorknob thing, I was sure Drake was hiding something big. Drake grabbed his hockey bag from the floor and threw the strap over his shoulder with enough force to snap the heavy leather. He didn't even look at me. He just stormed out of the office, his long strides leaving me scrambling to keep up.

"Hey! Wait up!" I jogged after him, my boots clicking loudly against the tiled hallway floor. "Morvane! Stop walking like you're trying to outrun a literal blizzard!"

He stopped so abruptly at the exit doors that I almost slammed face-first into his back again. He turned around, jaw clenched, eyes blazing with anger and raw frustration.

"Three months, Rose," he growled, stepping to look at him. "Ninety days. That's how long we're stuck together. But let me make one thing clear to you right now: I am not your friend. I am not your landlord. I am your roommate by legal force, and that is exactly where it ends."

My chest tightened at how harshly he drew the line, but I swallowed the lump in my throat. If he wanted to play the grumpy, untouchable captain to push me away, I could play that game too. I wouldn't let him see me flinch.

"Fine by me," I snapped back, crossing my arms defensively over my black turtleneck.

"I didn't come to Toronto looking for a giant, moody hockey player to babysit anyway. We divide everything. Half the fridge, half the living room, and a strict schedule for the bathroom."

"Done," he said, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper as he leaned down just an inch closer. "And one more thing. No one at the arena, no one on my team, and no one on this damn campus finds out. If the media or the coaches think I have a distraction living under my roof, it ruins everything I've worked for. You don't know me, and I don't know you. Deal?"

Looking into those freezing blue eyes, I realized this arrangement was a lot heavier than just sharing a kitchen. But I nodded anyway.

"Deal."

He could talk a big game all he wanted, but I caught the sudden shift in his eyes. For a split second, he looked almost regretful, or worried about what had just gone down. But just as fast, the wall went right back up, and he drew that strict line between us all over again.