“Why is that expression gracing the face of such a pretty woman without a mark I didn’t get to see?” Zeke asks from behind my desk, startling me so badly that I recoil from my laptop like it’s a snake poised to strike.
He sits there demurely, one leg crossed over the other, hands clasped on his stomach, and his work planner balanced on his thigh as he peers at me with a raised eyebrow and a lilt to his mouth that tells me more than words could how funny he finds scaring me.
“You’re an ass,” I breathe, slumping back in my office chair and slapping a hand to my chest while I blow out a steadying breath, willing my heartbeat to return to normal. “You scared the shit out of me. How long have you been sitting there?”
He shrugs. “Long enough to watch your face go through several emotions like it’s playing a game of Rapid Fire. Want to explain why you were glaring at your screen like you were trying to kill it with nonexistent eye lasers?”
“I read something I didn’t particularly like,” I answer, deliberately deflecting, not wanting to get into the nitty-gritty aftermath of a relationship I regret more than anything else in my life. Hell, I’d go through the stupid haircut and botchedtramp stamp on my lower back again over ever considering dating Toby Moore.
Giving myself a mental shake-up, not wanting my thoughts to center on that dick tip any longer, I ask, “Anyway, what can I do for you?”
“Well, there’s nothing for me, but I just wanted to ask if you have time for a visitor? A very handsome, tall, muscular visitor, by the way,” Zeke answers, wiggling his neatly trimmed eyebrows at me, and I tense instantly.
Zeke frowns and shakes his head, tapping at his planner as he cautiously says, “Okay, so no to the hottie outside? You don’t have anything on for the next hour, so I figured it would be okay.”
“Who is it?” I ask with a whole lot of anxiety and reluctance, the emails already infecting my brain. I just know I’ll be looking over my shoulder all day, especially now that I know the creep has resorted to loitering outside the apartment building at all hours of the morning like the stalker he’s rapidly becoming. I’ll have to send all of these to the police to add to my report, damn it.
“Caiden Miller? Says he’s your neighbor,” Zeke answers, and the first syllable of Caid’s name has me turning to melting jelly, the anxiety slipping away so fast that I feel jittery in an instant.
Zeke, ever the perceptive assistant, notices the shift instantly, leans forward in his seat, and asks, “Okay, what’s that all about? You’re acting weird, and I don’t like it.”
I chuckle, a forced sound even to my own ears, but I wave him off. “It’s nothing, don’t worry. Just a bad dream still haunting my waking hours. I have time for Caid, so send him in whenever.”
Sensing the brush-off for what it is, Zeke rolls his eyes and stands. “Fine. Keep your secrets. I’ll send in Mr. Miller.”
“Thank you, Zeke,” I offer sweetly, batting my eyelashes at him with a sugary smile he doesn’t buy into. That’s fair. Zeke and I have worked together long enough that he sees right through me. It’s truly a curse.
“Whatever,” he snorts, seeing himself out without a backward glance.
As soon as the door shuts behind him, I go right back to scrolling through all of the emails that now plague my inbox, wondering with every turn of the scroll wheel whether or not I’m going to have to retire this email address or try to block Toby from contacting it.
I’m still pondering when the door opens and a voice that reminds me of sunshine and ice cream at the park says, “Morning, Blue.”
I look up from my laptop and smile, the flutters in my belly spawning the instant I meet Caiden’s shockingly beautiful green eyes, my heart skipping a beat for reasons that don’t belong to anxiety. Jesus, it should be criminal to be that good-looking, and there are four of them that I spend almost every night eating dinner with? Four handsome devils that have taken over my life in the best way imaginable. It’s as maddening as it is surreal, the need for someone to pinch me every single day growing stronger and stronger as each moment passes.
“Hey, muscles,” I quip, taking in all the eye candy as he strolls in like a filthy little man-slut, wearing nothing more than the tightest white shirt known to man and gym shorts that reveal muscled legs that have my mouth watering. Fuck me pregnant, I’m no better than a man ogling a thick, juicy steak.
Caid flashes that pearly grin at me, flexing as a joke but almost sending me into a damned eye-candy coma, the bulges of his biceps sending those flutters in my belly elsewhere. I have no choice but to cross my legs and beg my sex-deprived coochie to calm the hell down, reminding it that now is not the time tobe getting hot for one of the guys I’m pretty sure I’m already painfully attached to.
I’m almost convinced nothing can make me look away when he carefully places a paper bag on my laptop keyboard and says, “Figured it was polite to bring you something tasty if I’m dropping by unexpectedly.”
“I’m not complaining,” I joke, peering into the bag and finding a blueberry muffin and a bagel I know he’s filled with healthy stuff I’ll enjoy. My mouth is watering for a whole new reason as the smell of grilled halloumi, scrambled eggs, and mozzarella wafts under my nose with a teasing caress.
Retrieving the bagel, my stomach rumbling with a declaration of war after I hustled out of the apartment this morning without eating breakfast, I ask, “What brings you by? Not that I’m not happy to see your face. It’s always welcome here.”
There’s almost a flirty note to my voice, but it goes unnoticed, so I bite into the bagel to stop myself from speaking anymore. Heaven knows what will come out of my mouth next, and I don’t even want to find out.
Caid claims the seat Zeke occupied only moments before, his gloriously defined body taking up more of the space than Zeke had, and says, “I have more questions for you that couldn’t wait.”
“More? How can there be more?” I mumble around a mouthful of deliciousness I know the talented man made himself, hiding my mouth behind my hand as I stare wide-eyed at the man who has asked me more questions about traveling this week than I’ve ever received in my whole life. “Is there a reason for the travel inquisition?”
“Can’t a guy want to learn more about his neighbor?” he counters, wearing an innocent veneer I don’t believe for a second.
Wiping my mouth with a napkin that was in the paper bag, I answer, “Sure, but I think you know more than me about any travel plans I’d like to make in the future, travel-related things I’ve done in the past, and even travel-related things I’ve done in another life. What gives?”
Caiden shrugs, nonchalant and calm, a smile fixed in place. “I just want to learn all there is to learn about Madison Fowler. What, is that a crime?”
I raise an eyebrow and pull a face that tells him more than words how unimpressed I am. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying. Why have you been grilling me all week?”
