Chapter 7
Nora
I wake up with a dry mouth and a slight headache.
That’s what I get for drinking too much.
My cheeks flush as the foggy memories of the explicit dream I had last night still linger, the faceless man at the bar the starring attraction.
I groan, burrowing under the covers to block out the daylight that’s streaming through my bedroom window, as in my semi-inebriated state last night I’d forgotten to draw the curtains.
I chastise myself for that oversight. It’s bad enough passing out without putting on my pajamas, but anyone could have looked in the open window and seen me.
My mind goes back to my stalker, what if he followed me home?
No. I dismiss the thought. I’d know if he’d followed me home. Wouldn’t I?
Deciding that only a cold shower, a tall glass of water, and strong coffee, in that order are going to help me, I climb out of bed and head into the bathroom.
After I shower, I settle down with a cup of coffee, feeling much better, but my rumbling stomach and empty cupboards remind me I can’t spend the whole day lying around on the couch.
An hour or so later, arms straining under the weight of groceries, I get off the bus and begin the short walk to my apartment.
By the time I get close, my arms are screaming in protest, and despite the coldness of the air, I feel hot for the exertion.
I’m grateful and a little bit surprised to find the front entrance held open by some boxes.
I shuffle past them, wondering if someone is moving out.
As I try to maneuver myself to find my keys, the plastic bag gives up, splitting and spilling its contents everywhere.
“Shit!” I hiss in frustration, dropping to pick everything up.
A low chuckle alerts me to the fact that someone else is there, and I notice a man standing in the doorway of the apartment opposite me.
My confusion over what he’s doing there is overridden by the acute awareness that this man is gorgeous.
Like, cover-of-magazines hot. He’s tall, easily over six feet, but the main thing I’m aware of in my crouching position on the floor is that his crotch is in my eyeline.
I can’t help but notice the sizeable bulge visible in the sweatpants he’s wearing.
My cheeks flush and I swiftly avert my gaze, praying he didn’t notice me ogling him.
I might not be interested in dating, but a girl can still appreciate a handsome man when she sees one.
“Sorry, I’ll just be a sec, damn bag broke,” I say, conscious of him watching me and that I’m blocking the corridor.
Without saying a word, he disappears inside for a second, and just as I’m about to die of embarrassment, he returns holding an empty cardboard box.
“I was certain this exact thing was going to happen to me today,” he says as he squats down to help me, loading my items into the box.
“Are you moving in?” I ask.
The question is rather redundant as I’m aware that the apartment opposite me has been empty for almost three years since the previous owner died, and I definitely would have noticed a neighbor that looks like this, so he must be new.
Either that or he’s a family member, but I’m pretty sure Josef would have tried to set me up with a hot young grandson or nephew if he had one.
However, I’m determined to make small talk to keep my attention off his rippled muscles that are visible through the tight t-shirt he’s wearing, his strong arms that are covered in tattoos that snake over his hands and up his neck to a chiseled jawline that could cut glass.
He gives me an amused look. His eyes are brown, and I find I have trouble meeting his gaze, so I look away.
But I can feel him watching me and my skin feels hot.
“Yep, seems we’ll be neighbors,” he says with a devastatingly handsome smile.
With the final heavy item placed in the box, he stands, lifting it with ease in one arm while offering his other hand to help me up.
I usually resent the offers of help from people who assume that my disability means I can’t do anything unassisted, but the gesture is so natural and charming that I don’t see how I can refuse without seeming rude.
Besides, he can’t possibly know I have a limp yet.
I accept his hand, impressed by the strong, firm grip as I use him to pull myself up.
The physical contact sends shockwaves through my body as my stomach tightens and my pussy clenches.
God, if this is my reaction to idle chit-chat with this man how the hell am I supposed to live across the hall from him?
A flush creeps up my neck and I squeak out a “Thanks,” turning quickly to hide it while I grab the other bag and unlock my door.
Without waiting for permission, he confidently strides into the room, placing the box on the countertop and casually leaning against it, studying me.
“Don’t you still need to get your boxes from the street and finish unpacking?” I ask, turning away to unpack my groceries so he can’t see the effect he has on me and to stop myself from eye-fucking him.
“Yeah, but I’d rather get to know my cute neighbor,” he replies, his voice light and playful, making me blush more.
“I don’t know where you’re from, but this is New York City, you can’t leave stuff out on the sidewalk without it getting stolen, and if you invite yourself into a strange woman’s house and start hitting on them, they’re likely to mace you, shoot you, or call the police,” I say indignantly, spinning on my heels to glower at him.
He raises an eyebrow at me, a grin on his face. I notice that Josef has leaped into his arms and is purring contentedly as he strokes him.
“You were talking about the cat, weren’t you?” I say with a groan, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.
Of course, my smoking-hot new neighbor wouldn’t look twice at someone like me. He probably is already dating a model or something.
“Sorry, can we just start over? I’m Nora and this is Josef,” I say, pointing to myself and my cat.
“Max,” he replies. “For the record, you’re more than cute, but I’ll keep that to myself, wouldn’t want you pulling a gun on me,” he says with a wink.
I’m unaccustomed to men flirting with me. Apart from Mike, most people don’t see me, especially when I’m around Nadya, so I don’t know how to respond. I decide to deflect.
“I won’t shoot you. I hate guns. But I’m not kidding that your stuff might get stolen. Come on, I’ll help you bring it in.”
“It’ll be fine, there’s nothing of value in the last few, not that a thief would want anyway, it’s just some books and bedding,” he says with a shrug.
“Please, it’s the least I can do after you helped me,” I insist, mostly because I want to end this interaction and remind myself of why I don’t get involved with men, something I’m increasingly questioning in Max’s presence.
Especially at the mention that he has books, plural, in his moving boxes. He’s a literary buff. Buff in more ways than one!
He nods, acquiescing. “Alright. Nice to meet you, Josef,” he says, tickling him under his chin before setting him down.
“It’s funny, he doesn’t usually take to strangers so quickly,” I say as we walk to grab the boxes.
Max shrugs, “Guess he can just tell I’m an animal person. Josef’s an unusual name for a cat, was he named after someone special?”
“Yes, the person who lived in your apartment before you, actually.”
There’s a flash of something in his eyes that I can’t place. Annoyance? Jealousy? Surely not. I dismiss the thought.
“Lucky guy,” he replies with a grin. “Though maybe I’m the lucky one if there’s an opening in your life for important men in your life that live across from you.”
I shoot him a stern look. “There isn’t. I don’t date. Josef was a friend, and he was about eighty, so he was more of a father or grandfather figure to me before he died. Not long afterward, Josef the cat turned up, I always wondered if he was looking out for me from beyond the grave.”
“I’m sorry. I stuck my foot in my mouth there, didn’t I? It’s never easy to lose someone you care about,” he says apologetically. “Was it recent?”
I shake my head. “A few years ago now.”
A look of confusion crosses his face. “And I’m the first person to move in since?”
“Yep. His family held onto the place for a while before putting it on the market for way too much. I guess they finally dropped the price to something people would be willing to pay.”
“I guess so,” Max says, bending to pick up a box.
I do the same and realize that the thing weighs a ton. Luckily, he saves me from any embarrassment by immediately saying, “Here, take this one instead, that one’s heavy.”
I take the proffered box, grateful that this one is so light. To my surprise, he picks up the other box, making it look like it weighs nothing as he carries it in the other arm.
He places them on the floor inside his apartment, then takes the other from me. “Thanks. It’s nice to meet you, Nora,” he says, and the way he says my name makes my heart flutter. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Oh, I have plans with a friend,” I lie.
I need some breathing space. This man is making me consider throwing every carefully laid rule I have set myself regarding men and dating out the window.
I need to see Nadya and get her perspective.
No doubt she’ll encourage me to go for it, but she’ll also tell me that saying no to doing anything tonight was a wise move.
“Make him work for it, no man wants to date a woman that’s got no plans on a Saturday,” she’ll probably say.
Max studies me, his brown eyes twinkling as if he can read my mind and is well aware that I have no plans. “Okay, what about next Saturday?”
“I don’t have any plans yet,” I admit cautiously.
“Come over for dinner,” he suggests.
“I told you, I don’t date,” I reply.
Dating is too messy, too complicated. As much as my body might be responding like crazy to his presence, I’ve been burned in the past when I’ve considered letting a man I found attractive get close, only to immediately freeze up and be unable to go through with it.
Much to his annoyance and my shame. I can’t imagine my hot new neighbor Max would be interested in a twenty-two-year-old virgin who’s terrified of intimacy.
If he knew, he’d be running for the hills right now.
“And I don’t take no for an answer easily,” he says seductively. “Consider it a thank you, a housewarming party.”
“So others from the building are invited?” I ask.
“Sure,” he replies nonchalantly.
“Alright, next Saturday,” I agree.
“It’s a date,” he replies with a grin.
“Not a date!” I insist.
But I’m unable to keep the dopey grin from my face as I go inside my apartment and shut the door.
I’m in trouble with this one.