When he’s the mananother womancan count on.
Friday, July 11th
Ace
I sit on my couch in my apartment, staring at the paused show on Netflix, one ear to the door and my heart in my throat. Julia just got home from lunch with Scottie and Kayla, and while she was gone, I did a littleworkon her window air conditioning unit using the spare key she gave me the night we moved in.
Now, I know entering her place without her knowledge was a huge violation of her privacy and, well, the law, but I am in a desperate place, which has pushed me past the brink of the cliff above an ocean of poor choices. And in my defense, I didn’t rummage through her panty drawer; I legit just did a little “work” on the AC.
And since this is technically included in the next phase of my big plan to make Julia fall in love with me, one might say it’s a necessity.
Three days have passed since we moved in to our new apartments across the hall from each other, and if anything, Julia has been spendinglesstime with me. I haven’t been able to show off any of my manly, partner-esque qualities like reliability or integrity or my protective instincts or even my good sense of humor, and because she doesn’t have to text or call to check in and see what I’m doing in the mornings, she doesn’t.
I’ve popped over and knocked a few times, but the urge to sit in her lap and wait for her to love me is becoming unbearable, and believe it or not, I don’t think it would help.
So, I’ve stooped. I’ve connived. I’ve crossed four different lines.
My knee bounces violently up and down as I listen intently, hoping to hear her door opening and her coming across the hall any minute. And she will. I know she will because I’ve made sure of it, but still, I’m nervous.
Visions of her smiling face as I solve her problems dance in my head along with the accompanying tongue-filled kiss that follows. I imagine us falling into each other, our sweat-slicked bodies fighting for more contact as we declare love and monogamy and an intent to have lots and lots of sex for the rest of our lives. She laughs at all my jokes and tells me she can’t live without me, and I tell her she doesn’t have to because I’m kidnapping her forever.
It’s an elementary story at best, but I’m no fucking romance novelist, okay? I’ve read a few of my mom’s—when forced—but I don’t know how character arcs or climaxes work. I just know I’d like to be with Julia. Forever.
I adjust my backward hat again, smoothing it at the tops of my ears and making sure it’s giving the appropriate amount ofsex symbol. This look has been a weakness for Julia since high school, and given the tropical climate I’ve set across the hall, it should be perfectly on trend for reminding her what’s normally hiding under my style.
A sudden bang on my door sits me upright like a slingshot, and I unpause the video on Netflix to sell the vision that I’ve just been chilling and watching TV as Julia’s voice rings through the door. “Ace!”
I move with both speed and casualness to answer her call.
All right, boys and girls. It’s showtime.
“What’s up?” I ask, dialing concern into my tone and flexing the muscles of my abs as tight as I can manage at the same time. She pauses briefly, taking in my low-slung basketball shorts, shirtless chest, and backward hat before shaking her head and focusing.
I flex a little harder, hoping to regain some quick attention as she runs it down for me. “I just got home, and my AC isn’t working.”
“What? Really? Mine is working just fine…”
“God, that’s so strange,” she says and blows out a breath of air from pursed lips. “I don’t think mine’s been working since I left to meet Scottie and Kayla because it legit feels like a sauna in my apartment. Do you think you can come help me try to figure out what’s going on?”
“Why, of course I can,” I say, clearing my throat to force some of the nagging guilt down with my saliva. I’m going to fix it for her—obviously—so it’s not like I’m really messing with her. I just want to show her how useful I can be. This is a little reminder that she can count on me in times of need.
I follow her across the hall, shutting my door behind me, but leaving hers open. Crossing the threshold is like stepping inside an oven as the July heat does its worst against her unprotected space.
It’s just as intended but also makes my butthole clench a little bit with the pressure to get things circulating againafterwe have a little sweat chemistry.
“Wow. It’ll fucking roast your ass in here, huh?”
“I think it might be hotter in here than it is outside!” Julia complains. “I’m pretty sure you could fry an egg on my boobs right now.”
I grit my teeth to stop myself from saying we should try.
“Go change into a bathing suit or something if you want, and I’ll get to work on this thing.”
“Good idea!” she agrees readily, running to her bedroom while I take the cover off the front of her unit and pretend to start looking at it. When I’m sure she’s gone, I find the reset switch on the back edge of the left side I disengaged earlier and push hard against it with my thumb.
I shoot forward as it breaks under the pressure, slamming my fucking forehead into the hard plastic grate on the front as the switch officially lodges itself in the off position. Panic seizes my already struggling lungs as I fight to get a grip on the now-broken shard, but that only pushes the switch deeper inside.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
