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My heels tap against the hardwood floors that lead me down the hallway to my front door. Sighing, I reach into my bag and pull out my key just as I approach the door, and when I insert the key, I notice that it's already unlocked.
A faint smile lifts onto my face as I roll my eyes and remove the key before opening the door and entering my apartment. The smell of my favorite meal (Zuppa Toscana Soup, specifically with Cauliflower instead of potatoes) wafts through the air and hits my nose, making me draw in a deep breath as I remove my coat and hang it on its hook.
My heart warms as I look down and see my roommate approaching me, rubbing against my ankles.
"Hi, Evvey." I greet my cat as I lean down and run a hand over the black hair on her back. She begins purring and I give her one last rub before slipping out of my shoes and sliding them into their cubby on the shoe shelf.
I make my way around the corner and see Everette leaning over the stove, stirring the pot of boiling soup.
"What if I had dinner plans?" I ask, sitting on one of the two stools at the island in the kitchen.
He peeks over his shoulder, a playful smirk on his face, before saying, "Then I'd have known." I narrow my eyes at him, trying to hold back my grin. "And if you did and somehow, I didn't know, then you'd have food for lunch tomorrow."
Everette Monsen has been my best friend for the past eight years. We met in our freshman year of college. He was playing hockey for our school, and I was taking every class I could to ensure the brightest future possible.
Now, at twenty-six years old, he's a world-famous NHL player for the New York Blades and I run an ideally successful event planning business. We both turned out pretty good and we were by each other's side every step of the way. I couldn't have asked for a better best friend.
"Did you have a good day?" He asks after a few moments of silence. Everette hates silence. I usually prefer it, but not when I'm with him.
"It was fine. Same old, you know?" I watch as he leans forward and clicks the burner off, moving the pot of soup off to the side.
He's wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants, and every time he wears those I always notice and get jealous of how nice his butt is.
"Did you hear anything from Jane?" Jane is a new, upcoming author who wants me to organize a huge meet-and-greet book-signing type thing for her. It would be a really big step in my career to host an event for someone so fresh and popular.
"Not yet. She probably found somebody else to do it at this point." I shrug my shoulders and reach up, pulling my hair out of the ponytail it's been in all day, causing a dull throb to linger in my head.
Everette sets the ladle down onto the spoon holder in the center of the stove and turns around, leaning back on the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.
