I wanted to know what that expression meant more than I cared to admit, and I took one of the bags from her. “I’ll help you.”
“God, manners and looks. Stay away from me, you.” She chewed on the side of her cherry-red lips and eyed me up and down. “Do you model? No. You’re not pretty enough. Don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful. But not in a feminine, androgynous way, you know? Like Ruby Rose. God, that girl is fine. You, though. You have a pretty-boy face with a rugged, lumberjack vibe.”
My mind could barely keep up with her train of thought. It could have been the way her lips moved as she spoke, the bright red clashing with the white of her teeth and golden skin. It was memorizing despite the fact she was the total opposite of the women I was drawn to. I tended to go for tall, curvy bombshells, not petite girls with blue hair. We got into the elevator and the doors closed, leaving us close together, and she glanced up at me with concern in her eyes.
“You okay, Blue Bell?”
“Blue Bell?” she asked, her eyes going so wide I could see way too much white. “How did you know my middle name was Bell?”
“I, uh, didn’t.” I covered my mouth with my hand and enjoyed the dusting of freckles on her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing a tiny dress like before, but her green tank top showed enough skin to accentuate her tan. I pointed to her hair. “Sarah Bell, right?”
“Stranger danger, but you live here, so I guess it would be unfriendly to acknowledge you know my name.” She frowned and blinked fast. “Fine. Yes. My name is Sarah. Why do you know that? And who are you?”
“I have a great memory. Mr. Alexandre said your name yesterday and it stuck with me.”Sarah Bell Blue.It sounded wonderful and like a cartoon character all at the same time. There was a possibility she didn’t know what I did, and I held on tight to that truth. “I’m Brigham.”
“Just…Brigham?” She scrunched her nose and it looked as though she was sniffing me. “Like Shakira or Madonna?”
“Or like Beckham or The Rock.”
“TheBrigham sounds stupid, and you can’t possibly have the same amount of swagger David Beckham has.” She clicked her tongue and looked at my ass without a sliver of embarrassment showing on her face. If anything, she looked proud. “Okay, maybe you do.”
I snorted. This chick was ridiculous. Totally ridiculous. “Monaghan. That’s my last name.”
“Eh. Average name. No offense.” She shrugged and I fought the urge to laugh again. People bought my jersey with my last name and number on it and Blue Bell here thought it was average. God, this shit was good. Gideon and Bummy would give me so much shit if they witnessed this. The elevator continued to ping while we went up each floor, and her face wrinkled with worry. “Are you going to hit your button and get off on your floor?”
“Yes.”
She stared as the floor numbers rose to the top and I hadn’t pressed a button. She licked her pretty bottom lip and cracked her knuckles once the doors opened at the highest floor. “You first, Brigham.”
“Ah, but ladies first. I have manners and good looks, as you said.”
“But you could’ve followed me up here to kill me, and I can’t have that happen. I have a job to do and two babies who need me. Dog babies. Not humans. Human children aren’t my thing.” She flung her hand outward and charm on her bracelet caught my eye. A dog bone.
“Blue Bell. I would not kill you. Not after riding in there with cameras. I’m not an idiot. Plus, I dislike Fernie and you annoy him, so it would be my honor to make sure you continue to annoy him.” I winked at her, hoping it would ease her distrust, and yet she made no moves to exit. She set her shoulders and straightened her spine. The girl had steel. I’d give her that.
We were at war. I tossed her bag into the hallway, took the other one from her hands and repeated the process. “Your stuff is out there. If we don’t get out, the doors will shut.”
She looked back and forth between the bags and me, and just as the doors started to shut, she jumped out with an excited cheer. “Ah ha!”
The sensor allowed me to exit, flustering Blue Bell, and the poor girl tripped over her bags trying to escape me. Now she lay on the floor, her long skinny legs going each direction, flashing me a pair of bright red panties—and god, the sight was not one that should’ve gotten me excited. But it did. My celibacy was wearing me down.
She held on to her brown satchel and positioned it like a weapon with one hand while she tried pulling down her black skirt with the other. “I will hurt your pretty face if you laugh at me for one second. Not even a giggle.”
I pressed my lips together tightly to try to obey her, but it didn’t last long when she tried getting up. She looked silly and it made me super happy to see her struggling. The straps of her bag were on her feet and she lost a shoe in the mix. “I would offer to help,butyou might just think I’ll steal your stuff.”
“The gall of you.” She stood, dusted off her thighs and picked up both suitcases and her satchel, before marching down the hallway. “You better live up here or I’d think you were being stalkerish.”
“I do live up here.” I followed her down the hall and leaned against my door when she dropped her shit to knock on my neighbor. “You made your presence known that you will be living here. Is this with Mr. Alexandre or…?”
She cackled and put her hands on her knees. “Oh, look at you thinking absurd things. No. I am dog sitting for him for three months. Have you met Pico and Cassandra?”
I didn’t get a chance to answer. Mr. Alexandre opened the door, glared at me and ushered her inside before I could get another word in. It irritated me. He had been one of those people who’d greeted me every time we crossed paths, but once the incident had happened, he’d turned up his nose and refused to acknowledge my existence.
I went into my place and fell onto the couch, annoyed at myself and Mr. Alexandre. Partying wasn’t against the law. Neither were clubs or women or getting drunk. But as my dear sister liked to put it, I’d flaunted my fast lifestyle for too long for anyone to believe me when I said I didn’t do it.
Baseball meant too much to me to do the hard stuff. But the club had been busted and cocaine had been on the table and on my jacket from some drunk chick rubbing against me. It didn’t help that the police chief’s daughter had been there, who’d said the drugs were mine, so any chance at talking my way out of it had been gone.
I want a goddamn beer.
