“Mrs. Ruiz, this is my friend Silas. He wanted to walk me upstairs to make sure my mother hadn’t infiltrated my apartment while I was out tonight.”
She glanced over her shoulder at me.
“Silas, this is my downstairs tenant and my grandmother’s oldest friend, Mrs. Ruiz.”
“You can call me Alba,” she told me, smiling as she stepped closer. “So nice to meet you.”
I took her extended hand between both of mine.
“Very nice to meet you too, Alba,”
“So nice of you to make sure she’s safe at home. I’ll let you go check it all out. Have a good evening,” Alba said, smirking as she shifted back to her door. She snuck a look to Rachel, fanning herself before disappearing inside.
Rachel’s head fell back on a laugh.
“Oh, Manager Jones.” Shetsked, shaking her head. “The effect you have on women of all ages.”
“Maybe so,” I said, lifting a shoulder. “But I’m only concerned about one.”
She clenched her eyes shut and motioned to the stairs.
“I’ll give you the tour while you search.”
I climbed the stairs behind Rachel, my gaze drifting toward the perfect curve of her ass as she headed up the short flight. Standing back, I let my eyes roam her beautiful body as she sifted through the keys in her hand and opened her door.
“Come on in,” she said, pressing the door open. “It’s small, but the view is pretty awesome.”
“It’s not small at all,” I said, surveying the space. A bookcase lined the back wall of the living room, and a short hallway led to three doors.
“This is my sister’s room,” she said as she clicked the light switch and pushed the wooden door open.
“Wow, so he did make a good impression, huh?” I said as I spotted the large poster of Nate on the wall above the twin-sized bed.
“One of the girls on the team found it online. Taylor crushed on you first, so take that as you will.”
“Is that so?” I asked as I tracked Rachel farther down the hallway.
“Yep, sure is, Mr. Instagram,” she said. “This is the bathroom. Actually not a bad size with a full tub. Want to do a sweep before I shut the door?”
“Sure,” I said as I peeked inside, my gaze landing on the shower curtain as visions of a wet and naked Rachel popped into my head.
Which wasn’t going to make leaving any easier.
“This is my room.” She opened the door, her shoulders a little more tense as she moved aside to show me. Her bed was bigger than her sister’s, but it would be a tight fit to climb in with her.
I’d make us fit and make her forget her mother, her creepy boyfriends, and the asshole who’d put his hands on her and had made her feel worse about it all. Rachel didn’t need anyone to take care of her, but I still wanted the job. I wanted it with so much certainty that it confused the shit out of me.
“Where do you write?” I asked, my voice a husky rasp as I tried, and failed, to forget the last time Rachel and I had been this close to a bed. Tonight wasn’t about that, no matter what wishes I had for it or visions of what we could be.
If I wanted her, and fuck, I wanted her so damn badly, I had to take it slow. Show her that I wasn’t just here for a good time and we could be so much more than that.
When it had come to fighting for my marriage, I’d given up before I’d begun to fight. No matter what guilt I’d felt over how it ended, forcing it had seemed like a waste of time.
But I’d wait for Rachel. I hoped I wouldn’t have to for too long, but the timeline wasn’t mine. If she let me in, I’d make the room in my life that I’d never tried for because it had seemed impossible.
Maybe that was because I’d never wanted anyone else to fit.
“Oh, I’ll show you my fancy office,” she teased, kicking off her shoes, and padded barefoot to the living room.
