“Tea, chamomile.”
She screwed up her nose at that. “Book, TV, or music?”
“All three at once, TV muted of course.”
“Romance, action, or horror?”
I chuckled at the inquiry taking place. “Action.” She was quiet for a moment. “Do I pass?” I wondered out loud. “Am I a good guy or not?”
“You pass. At this stage you are ticking the good guy boxes, but I reserve final judgment until we’ve hung out for longer than a day. I really didn’t take you for a cat kinda guy though,” she mused. “Or tea. I think you’ve been influenced too heavily by Bradley and his English addiction.”
I shrugged. “What can I say, tea calms me, and I love *.”
Andi rolled her eyes and groaned loudly. “Well, I walked myself right into that one, didn’t I?” I agreed and passed the pizza box back her way. There was only one slice left. “I don’t think I can. I mean, I’m seconds away from popping the button on my jeans and letting my pudge hang out.” I automatically looked down at her tummy which looked as flat as it had twenty minutes ago. Where the hell did she tuck all that food away?
“Oh screw it, I’ll manage,” she said, grabbing the pizza. MACHINE!
Chapter 4
ANDI
The next morning, I pulled on my oldest, most unfashionable and embarrassing sweats and began cleaning. It was a Big and Rich kind of day, and the music blared through the speakers my iPhone was docked to, “Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy” spilling off my lips, completely off key. Sorry, boys. My hips were swinging and I was busting out into the occasional line dance move as I continued to unpack the never ending supply of boxes and scrub down everything in sight. By lunch time, I had worked myself into a hot mess. My hair had begun to pull free of its ponytail, sweat dripped down my cheeks and back, and my clothes were covered in dust and grime. I was starving like a ravenous animal and found myself wondering if I could bring myself to eat the disgusting can of spaghetti Decker had generously brought me. The man was truly a paradox of confusing memories and Bradley’s hearsay. I had been prepared for arrogant, smug Decker who couldn’t do ‘serious’ for longer than a minute. I hadn’t been prepared for kind, sweet, thoughtful Decker though, the man who brought me pizza, helped me assemble my bookshelf, and took out the trash. I found myself curiously intrigued by the complexity of this man, and unfortunately, very much attracted to his pure, masculine beauty. I had lost count of how many times I had replayed the scene in the back room of my book store the day I arrived here. In my own dirty girl mind, I had climbed his body and wrapped my legs around his waist. Eventually we worked our way free of clothing and I found my back pressed against the wall while Decker kissed and licked at my mouth, his hard length pressing against me, creating the sweetest friction, bringing my body to life. My hot Decker moment was interrupted by the front door opening.
“Knock knock,” sang a male voice with a feminine lilt to it.
I forced away the unfamiliar tightness in my body, that throbbing need that had been absent for longer than I cared to remember. I drew out a long breath, finding my calm place before facing the voice that I was sure belonged to my new neighbor. I had met Casey my first day here. He was fascinating, flighty and lovable, and I had immediately found a kinship with him. His partner, Lionel, had been away for the last two weeks though, and I had yet to meet him. Casey had been swamped with the grooming salon on his own, so I had barely seen him for more than a distant friendly wave.
“Nobody walks into a room saying knock, knock anymore, you cock queen. It’s like I’m trapped in a never ending kiddy joke,” came an unfamiliar voice.
I jumped to my feet and peered curiously over the bookshelf. I smiled at the sight before me. Casey wore a pair of tight leather pants with an equally tight spandex shirt. His hair was a little longer on top, shaved at the sides and back in some Miley Cyrus knock off. The second man, who I assumed was Lionel, was dressed completely in white; casual cotton white pants with a silk button up white shirt and leather sandals. It seemed a little too bohemian and earthly for New York . Lionel was scowling at Casey who was ignoring him. Their eyes met mine at the same time. “There she is,” crooned Casey.
“Hi,” I whispered, a little surprised.