She tilted her head at the workload awaiting us.
"Just bruises to pride and pelvis," I mumbled. In honor of moving day, I had on old comfy pants, and they'd been washed one too many times, judging by the audible rip as I bounced off the wall and landed at Lauren's feet. The couch just missed slamming into the wall I wasn't so lucky. Lauren jumped aside like it was a sled on the slalom track, so the brown plaid monstrosity thumped ahead of me back down to the floor. I lunged for it, missed and came tumbling after. No greeting, no "welcome to the complex." I was halfway up the stairs to the landing, heaving my end of the sofa, when my hands slipped and the couch bounced away. When he saw us wrangling such a heavy piece of furniture, he only sighed, stepped around the boxes cluttering the foyer and checked his mailbox. Okay, it was possible I'd watched too many episodes of Vikings this week. He was also tall and lean with a sculpted, ascetic face, like an austere warrior who would be at home on the prow of a ship. I'd always had a soft spot for gingers, probably a result of growing up on Harry Potter movies. He had auburn hair, brown eyes and a strong jaw dusted with gold scruff. While Lauren and I struggled with the sofa, a guy I presumed to be a new neighbor came into the building. He had nothing to do with it, of course that was just a quirk of timing. The first time I saw Ty, I fell down the stairs and tore my pants.Ī superstitious person might call that an omen.
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