Hulk smiled. “It was a nice one too.”
Wetting my lips, I returned my attention to Apollo. Cocking my head a bit, a grin claimed the corners of my mouth. “He won’t tell me his name. So I’m stroking his ego with the name of a mythical god. I figure it’s the only thing he gets stroked.”
My comment was met with laughter from everyone but the large, tatted black man blocking my escape.
“Don’t take it personal, Stick. I won’t let you stroke other parts of me because you’re still not my type.” He stepped aside.
I glared at his arrogant smirk while I brushed past him.
“Oh sweet Jesus! What the—” A woman gasped.
“What’s with you people, Trzy’s just a?—”
While the blonde with a wrinkle of disgust on her face was a sight to behold, she vanished the second I saw the man behind her.
“You,” I whispered.
He—my other “one”—stared at me for a long moment. The star of all my dreams for the past three years stood before me, and I couldn’t see an ounce of recognition in his eyes. Was I really that forgettable?
“Banks, do you know her?” The blonde continued to grimace at Trzy.
“Stick lives across the hall,”Banksanswered.
I whipped my head around, giving him the stink eye. “Banks Apollo or Apollo Banks?”
He grinned, holding his lips in a tight seal.
“Everson Banks. Seriously, you don’t know your neighbor? How can you live next to a sports star and not know it?” The blonde sucked in a breath and turned sideways to squeeze past me and Trzy without touching us. “Cage, you coming?”
“In a minute,” Cage answered.
“Monaghan, you know Stick?” Everson asked.
Cage smiled. I died a little because really… I could barely breathe. Maybe I wasn’t so forgettable.
“Yes, I know Lake.”
He remembered my name. He remembered my name! HE REMEMBERED MY NAME!
I bit my tongue so those words didn’t actually vomit from my mouth. The tall, hunky blond with dimples remembered my name. That meant he had to remember the kiss.
His eyes shifted to my lips as I rubbed them together. Yeah, he remembered the kiss.
We both grinned.
“Ya know, you’re not allowed to have pets in these apartments, Stick.”
“Bite me,Everson.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Cage, nor could I wipe the ridiculous smile from my face. My cheeks hurt, but I kept smiling.
The door shut, leaving just us two grinning fools in the hallway.
Three years earlier I met Cage Monaghan, college star quarterback for Nebraska, under the worst circumstances. My brother’s fiancée, Jessica, disappeared and our search for her took us to Omaha, where she had been living under the name Jillian Knight and in a relationship with Cage’s father. Our lives were at risk because there were some dangerous people who didn’t want her to be found.
It was one day.
We met.
There was a connection.
