Two
Alex
What the fuck?
My hand flew to my chest, perhaps my attempt to calm my racing heart.
It didn’t work.
I heard another thump, so distant that I was surprised that I could hear anything over my heart beating like crazy.
The rest of me almost frozen with fear.
I breathed in and then out as quietly as I could, willing my heart to slow and my mind to focus.
But I heard it again.
A bang this time.
I turned my head toward the doorway, peering into the darkness, searching for something to focus on.
Saw nothing but the dark.
I wasn’t sure where exactly the sound was coming from, but it was nowhere near the front door.
Which meant it was coming from inside the house.
Fuck!
I scrambled out of bed, then remembered the need to be quiet.
Even though the room was pitch-dark, I looked around furiously, trying to decide my next step.
My phone!
I started to move toward the nightstand but stopped when I remembered that I had left my phone downstairs.
It was sitting on that stupid piano that I’d had no business messing with in the first place.
Swallowing back my fear—and my disgust with myself—I went over to the window and looked out, then quickly took a step back. Whatever lay at the bottom of the straight four-story drop was scarier than whatever was downstairs.
I hoped.
I sobered, knowing this could go very, very, very badly.
But it wouldn’t go without a fight.
I had left the door open, something I was grateful for because now I wouldn’t have to make noise opening it.
I stood next to the partially open door, the welcoming feel that had been there before completely gone. I forced myself to be still, be quiet, and listen.
Another bang, this one slightly more muted but still in the same general location as the previous one.
A weapon.
That was what I needed.
I felt a stab of disappointment when I realized the dry-cleaner bags and cheap hangers were my best options.
I looked around wildly, my gaze landing on a long, tall cylinder in one corner of the hallway.
Taking a deep breath, I crept out of the bedroom and to the cylinder to grab the curved handle of an umbrella.
Who leaves an umbrella upstairs?
I’d have to thank whoever had because this umbrella was all I had.
I lifted it as quietly as I could and was comforted by its weight.
It wasn’t a golf club, a baseball bat, or even a croquet mallet, but it was heavy, and the pointy end looked sharp.
And it was better than facing whatever awaited me downstairs with my charm and wit alone.
Hopefully, I wouldn’t need it.
My plan was to escape, and if I made it to the front door, I was out of here.
I crept down the stairs, sending up a silent prayer of thanks for the construction workers who had built this place.
It was rock fucking solid, and not a single stair creaked, even under my not at all inconsiderable weight.
Even in the dimness, I could see the front door getting closer, closer?—
I froze when the lights flicked on with a quiet but still audible click.
My heart was racing so fast I thought I would faint, and I stood tall, trying to prepare myself for the inevitable attack.
Let out a breath when it didn’t come.
Then another.
And then finally, I started moving toward the door again.
When I made it there, I gripped the umbrella tight but didn’t allow myself to breathe.
Because when I reached the door, it dawned on me that I had no fucking clue how to open it.
I’d entered the code just hours ago, but the four little numbers that held the key to my freedom were fog in my brain, lost to sleep and fear.
There was a knob, but for some reason I stood staring at it, willing my brain to work. I lifted my fingers to finally open the door.
I dropped my arm back to my side and almost screamed when I heard another bang.
I’d been so focused on the door that I’d forgotten I was trying to escape.
Adrenaline, panic, all of it left me shaky.
“Pull it together, Alex,” I said to myself so quietly my words were barely a breath.
Then, I decided to change course.
I gripped the umbrella tight.
Flight hadn’t worked, so fight it was.
I’d find the intruder, get a jump on them, and, unlike the dumb people on TV, I would keep going until I was sure the intruder was neutralized.
I crept slowly, going the opposite of the way I had come before and grateful for that time exploring all of those damn living rooms.
The kitchen.
That was where the noise was coming from.
I got closer, hoping whoever it was, was facing the refrigerator, knowing that would increase the element of surprise.
They were.
That was the first thing I noticed when I peered into the kitchen.
Well, the second thing.
First thing that hit me was light, the blinding brightness in the room momentarily stunning me.
But just for a split second.
In the next breath, I focused on the figure in front of me, and when I got a good look, I almost turned and ran again.
This was not going to be easy.
The man—and there was no doubt he was a man—was huge.
Easily six-five, maybe even six-six, broad, and—if the strain of his shoulders against his T-shirt was telling—in phenomenal shape.
As I ran the odds, I reconsidered my plan.
At an even six feet and no less than a size 20 on any day, I was no pushover.
But this guy…
Not a fair fight, but at least I had the element of surprise on my side.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I gripped the umbrella and ran toward him, swinging with all my might.
Thud.
The sound of the umbrella hitting his shoulder gave a dull sound, one that stunned me—and him.
“What the fuck?!”
I’d been aiming for his head, but he turned at the last second, and when I saw his face, I froze, familiar dark eyes locking with mine.
“I—Why did you break in here!”
“It’s not ‘breaking in’ if you own the place and have a key,” he said.
The “he” in question—Noah Wilder—was rubbing his shoulder absently, which made me feel bad, though his intense stare lessened that guilt.
I’d hit him with all my might, and as best I could tell, he’d found it minorly irritating.
He gawked at me, his harsh features going even harsher as his gaze oozed incredulity.
“Is that an umbrella?” he finally asked.
His deep voice was a low rumble of shock, confusion, and annoyance.
I straightened and pushed my shoulders back, which reminded me that I was only wearing underwear.
His if I had to guess.
“I…had a limited selection of options to choose from.”
“So you chose to attack me with,” he looked at my hands, his face twisted, “an umbrella?”
“No, I chose to attack an intruder with an umbrella. That intruder just so happened to be you,” I said.
I gripped the umbrella tightly again, then shook my head and tossed it on the bistro table in one corner of the kitchen.
“As I explained, I’m not an intruder,” he said.
“Well, how would I know that?” I asked.
I felt a little bit bad about hitting him, but that feeling was evaporating with every single moment.
And the embarrassment was settling in.
“Why are you here?” He mercifully turned his attention from me and closed the refrigerator door.
“Why are you here?” I parroted before I could stop myself.
Though he wasn’t looking at me, I could see his profile and saw the scowl that twisted his rough features.
It was not an unfamiliar expression, even though I’d only met the man twice.
Once at Birdie’s wedding, where he’d attended the church ceremony and stayed at the reception just long enough to not be rude—though I doubted he cared what anyone thought.
And the first time, oddly enough, had been at my apartment.
Those circumstances had been much different, and my initial opinion of him, one he had reinforced at the wedding, came back.
It really was a shame.
Noah wasn’t classically handsome, not by a long shot. His features were rough, but he had an undeniable charisma and magnetism.
Unfortunate that the two times I’d met him, he’d been a fucking jerk.
And this time…
He’d shaved years off my life with this little stunt, so I wasn’t in the mood to be charitable.
“Alex,” he said, turning to face me.
His gaze was locked on my face, his eyes so dark they looked almost pupilless.
The way he stared at me, coupled with his overwhelming physical presence, was having an effect on me.
I told myself it was just the adrenaline working through my system, that my nipples tightening to hard little points, that the slickness gathering between my thighs had absolutely nothing to do with him.
He let out a breath that made his nostrils flare ever so slightly, and I couldn’t even try to pretend that he had missed my reaction.
His gaze raked my body, reminding me of my state of undress, and it was only pure pride that kept me from running out of the room.
As he looked me up and down, I mentally catalogued those parts of myself that I’d accepted but that he—and most of the men I’d encountered—would categorize as flaws.
Breasts that were plump but sagged, a narrow waist that showcased my rounded stomach, hips and ass to spare, and thick, thick thighs.
Determined to give as good as I got, I stared at him as he stared at me.
I noticed the long lashes and full lips that were the only hint of softness on his face.
Shoulders broad enough to make me feel dainty, something I’d never experienced before.
Sculpted chest and stomach under a tight black T-shirt.
Tree trunk legs that looked to be carved out of granite.
I looked up quickly to meet his eyes again, which was a mistake.
They revealed nothing except the truth that he’d definitely noticed me checking him out.
In fact, it would have been impossible for him to miss it.
Knowing when a battle was lost, I chose to move on.
“You remember my name,” I said.
He scoffed like the surprise in my voice didn’t deserve acknowledgement.
But I was definitely surprised.
At the wedding, we’d made eye contact for the briefest of moments until he’d frowned and looked away.
And when I’d met him at my apartment, he’d been too busy hurling accusations at Birdie for us to have much meaningful conversation.
I didn’t think of myself as especially memorable, especially for someone like him.
“Maybe you knocked it loose with your friend over there, Babe Ruth,” he said, nodding toward the umbrella.
“Ha-ha,” I responded, rolling my eyes at him.
I crossed my arms but then remembered I was wearing a too-tight tank top and no bra.
The girls got enough attention as it was, and I saw no reason to give them more, so I let my hands fall to my sides, though I doubted that helped.
“Why are you here?” he asked again, his voice low, gruff.
“My place flooded, so there’s an entire fucking river in my apartment right now. Birdie and Dominic were nice enough to let me stay here,” I said.
He looked at his wrist, and I saw the thick watchband and a forearm that almost had me salivating, so I quickly looked back at his face.
He was wearing a scowl, but I could see the gears spinning in his head.
“I don’t feel like finding someplace else right now, so I guess I’ll have to deal,” he said his scowl deepening.
I rolled my eyes. “I guess you will. I’m going back to bed.”
I turned but then froze, realizing he was behind me. I should have kept going, but I couldn’t resist looking back.
My gaze collided with his, though I couldn’t read anything in his eyes.
Again feeling exposed, I looked down the length of his strong arm. He was holding a duffel bag, not too dissimilar from mine, though his probably cost a hundred times more.
“You travel light,” I remarked.
He said nothing, and I felt like an idiot for even speaking.
Told myself it didn’t matter.
Noah Wilder wasn’t worth the trouble, and from what Birdie had told me, he’d be gone soon enough.
I had a lot of my plate and needed to be fresh in the morning, so I would get back to sleep.
Determined to do just that, I started to walk, pretending that my whole ass wasn’t on full display.
As I moved, it struck me that I wasn’t scared.
Annoyed, yes.
But not afraid.
Noah was an asshole, but he didn’t seem dangerous—at least not dangerous to me.
He trailed behind me as I walked up the stairs, and I was relieved when we reached the top.
A relief that was short-lived.
I turned right, and Noah did too.
“That’s my room,” he said as I stopped in front of my bedroom door.
“Not today it’s not,” I said.
I stepped inside the threshold then turned to look back at him.
He was close enough that I could see the rise and fall of his chest, and when I breathed in, I smelled that same woodsy scent that had greeted me before.
So that was him, I thought, as I tried to ignore the warmth that suffused me at the thought.
Just as I tried to ignore the way his body filled the doorframe and the way he towered over me.
“Alex, I had a long flight. I need to get some rest. In my room,” he said.
“Are you familiar with the expression ‘possession is nine tenths of the law’?” I asked.
His eyes darkened, then narrowed, his voice taking on a warning tone, “Alex?—”
Before he could finish, I slammed the door in his face, then locked it for good measure.
He banged on it once. “Alex,” he said, his voice muffled, though I could still hear the warning in it.
“Good night, Noah,” I said.
Laughing, I jumped back into bed and fell asleep.