So good! I can give you cash when you get here.
Yeah. I won’t be taking her money.
For the first time in a long time, I can’t wait to get the hell out of here.
It’s just before midnight when I pull into my driveway, parking closer to my garage than I usually do. My headlights illuminate the gravel as I park my truck on the side of the driveway closest to my house. The air is cooler than usual for the summer, and the world is quiet. Exactly what I crave after working all day. The porch light I left on this morning casts a light glow across the yard. My body aches, and I smell like a mix of wood, whiskey, and grease from the kitchen. All I want to do is shower, grab a beer, and sit in the dark like a man twice my age.
Working two jobs means I’m barely home long enough to sleep, but now feels different. It feels like coming home tosomeone.
Except I don’t go toward my door.
I grab the takeout bag from the passenger seat and look toward the apartment on my property that hasn’t ever had anyone there.
The light is on, and my chest tightens before I even see her.
I make my way up across the driveway and up the steps, my pulse racing with each one I take. Stopping at the top, I hesitate for half a second. I know she’s awake because she said she would be up late working.
Finally, I lift my hand and knock. The sound feels too loud in the quiet night.
I hear a shuffle on the other side of the door and see the doorknob jiggle, but the door doesn’t open. She curses on the other side of the door as the handle rattles like she’s fighting it.
“Step back. I got it,” I tell her.
Reaching for it, I give the door knob a little twist and push it,and it finally gives way. The momentum forces me through the doorway and fully into her space. I stumble but catch myself as my eyes trail from the ground, to her exposed legs from the shorts she has on, and up to her face. Our eyes meet at the exact same time and for a suspended second, neither of us move.
It hits me all over again how unfairly beautiful she is.
She’s not styled for an interview or a meeting with the production crew. That blonde hair I remember tangled in the hotel sheets, is now twisted into a messy bun. There’s a softness around the edges that I didn’t get to see that night in the city, when everything between us has been loud and fast and reckless.
Not long ago, she was a stranger I didn’t allow myself to imagine a future with. Now, she’s here and I don’t know where to put the awareness of her without letting it show.
She’s like an angel in the night that’s just waiting to burn me alive.
I clear my throat. “Hi.”
The air shifts between us the longer she stares at me. She finally blinks, as if coming back to the moment after learningI’mthe one she was texting. Her shoulders relax a fraction and I can visibly see her breath. “Hi.”
“I’m sorry about the door. I’ll get that fixed for you tomorrow.”
“So you’re my temporary landlord?”
I extend my free hand in front of me, a smile on my face. “I’m Tucker, nice to meet you.”
She raises a brow. “You’re serious right now?”
“Deadly,” I say. “I’m trying to build a reputation. Starting with a door apology and a handshake.”
She laughs. And it’s the type that makes me want to hear it again just to be sure it’s real.
I lift the bag in my hand. “Oh, and a burger delivery.”
Her laughter dies down, but the smile doesn’t waver. “Thank you.”
She steps forward to reach for the bag in my hand, and a mix of vanilla and something floral hits me, like her skin carries springtime with her. It draws me to her, but I try not to step too close. When she grabs the bag, our fingers brush for half a second. The contact is light, yet it sends a quiet shock through me, like my body remembers something my brain never fully forgot. It’s familiar and dangerous as it settles into my skin.
“You’re saving my night with this,” she says, lifting the bag. “I haven’t made it to the store yet.”
“I figured.”
