Chapter 37



"Ernest, this is the girl I was telling you about, the one interested in swapping rooms. Maybe you two can work something out?" Landlady Ethel's voice cut through the tension, breaking the standoffish gaze between me and the man before me.

I stepped forward. "Hi, I'm Felicia. Any chance we could switch the room you're staying in?"

"No," his refusal came as swiftly and sharply as the motion he'd made when drying his hair moments earlier.

I felt a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth, accompanied by a rising sense of irritation, and a stubborn streak flared within me. "Why not?" He spared me a glance, said nothing, and draped his army-green towel over his shoulder, brushing past me.

A chill from the tap water hit me unexpectedly, making me shiver.

"Felicia, right?" Ethel approached, "Don't take it to heart. Ernest isn't the type to sugarcoat things for the ladies. I'll have a word with him later."

I also had a temper and raised my voice intentionally, "No need. It's not as if living in that room will bring any miracles. Whoever loves it can have it."

fierce. He's a former soldier, trained and all. He might carry you out and toss you into the street if you get him riled

help but laugh, amused at my folly of mistaking a distinguished soldier

true. Across the street, that widow, Fat Jean, kept bothering him, knocking on his door for no good reason. At last, she got wrapped in a sheet

seemed

widow made it to his bed?" I couldn't

thrown out before

worry about me. I'm not interested in a man

in a tank top but changed into a black T-shirt and a black leather biker jacket,

heading out this late?"

response was as tight as if it

too late. I'll be locking up, and we wouldn't want any burglars sneaking in..." Ethel didn't finish her sentence before Ernest vanished without a

too, went to my room, only to hear Ethel say, "Ernest is a good man,

my heart, though not riddled with wounds, felt like a

halfway through my door when

back. "Anything

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