I’m excited to see all my furry friends who I haven’t seen for days at this point. And that’s the thing with some of these older dogs—you don’t know how much time you’ll get with them. You just have the give them as much love as you can because you don’t know how much longer they have on Earth.
I ride the elevator alone down to the lobby floor as the low hum of violin strings pours out from the speakers and fills the metal box. As I said, my brother’s apartment is bougie as hell, and only the extremely wealthy live here. I’m sure the kind doorman has a mini heart attack anytime he sees me enter or exit wearing my baggy flannels, oversized Tshirts, and dirty sneakers. Though, he’s always polite and never says a word.
The elevator stops on the main floor, and as soon as the doors open, I step out, walking smack dab into something solid.
“Jesus,” someone says, holding me steady with a heavy arm. “You good?”
My head feels a little wobbly from vibrating off a chest of pure muscle, but I can see perfectly clear.
My eyes trail the stranger’s body, noting the contrast between my dirty sneakers and his shiny dress shoes. His legs are thick, but his suit pants are perfectly tailored to fit his strong thighs. His crisp white shirt is practically see-through, showcasing his tatted skin, and when my gaze falls on the thin gold chain around his neck, I realize who I ran into.
My body, thanks to the warmth flowing through me from the unexpected contact, knows too.
I lift my eyes slightly higher, hazel irises staring back at me as the most mischievous grin slides up his lips.
“Stevie,” Zanders says. “You following me?”
8
ZANDERS
“Stevie,” I begin. “You following me?”
Her eyes trail down my body, checking me out as I do the same to her.
Her chestnut curls are plopped on top of her head in a wild mess, and her clothes are drowning her figure. Dark lashes frame her blue-green eyes, and her face doesn’t show a stitch of makeup, minus...is that mustard on her chin?
She’s only inches from me, right where she barreled into my chest, my hold keeping her steady. Without thinking, I use the pad of my thumb to softly wipe the yellow from her face. As I do, her mouth falls open, and her eyes dart to mine, holding my stare for a moment.
Stevie clears her throat and takes a step back, away from me.
“Seems like you’re following me,” she retorts, keeping her eyes anywhere but on me as she crosses her arms over her chest.
“How am I following you?” I mirror her stubborn actions, crossing my arms in the same manner. “My best friends live here.”
Finally, her eyes dart to mine, cocking her head in confusion.
“Eli Maddison,” I explain. “His family lives in this building. Penthouse floor. But their elevator is being worked on.” I motion across the lobby to the private elevator for the Maddisons’ level. The only one I use to avoid run-ins like this.
Realization covers Stevie’s face. “His wife has dark red hair?”
Logan’s signature color. “Logan. Yeah.”
Stevie nods as if all the puzzle pieces are being put together for her.
“So, clearly, you’re following me.”
She scoffs. “I live here. If anyone is being a stalker, it certainly isn’t me.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” I brush her off, not believing her. Not to sound like a rich asshole, but this building, as well as mine across the street, cost an arm and a leg to own. She’s a flight attendant. I highly doubt she makes enough to live here.
“Why the hell do you keep calling me ‘sweetheart?’”
An evil laugh slips from my lips. I thought she was smarter than that. “You don’t get it?”
“Get what?”
“My nickname for you. It’s ironic. I’m not sure you have a sweet bone in your body, sweetheart.”
She holds my eye for a moment, contemplating her response. And if it were anyone else, I’d expect to be cussed out or maybe even smacked, but not with Stevie. She’s kind of a wild card in that way. She can take the shit-talking just as well as she can dish it out.
Instead of a negative reaction, uncontrollable giggles fall from her lips, her chest heaving. “Oh, that’s pretty good, actually.”
I can’t help the smile that overtakes my face from seeing this wild girl, dressed like she might not have a place to call home, unable to contain her hysterical laughter in the middle of this all-white pristine lobby, marble floor and all.
She looks entirely out of place, and I kind of fucking love it.
“You’re such an asshole,” she laughs.
“I know.” I smile right back at her.
I let her catch her breath before asking again. “Okay, really, though. What are you doing here?”
She inhales deeply, a smile still covering her lips. “I already told you. I live here. Well, my brother lives here, and I’m staying with him.”
“Your brother? Who is your brother?”
I’d have to know him. This city is big, but not that big. Anyone who can afford to live in this complex is some kind of high-roller or athlete, bringing in millions of dollars a year.
“No one you’d know.” Stevie brushes me off. “I got to go. Have a good night.”
She sneaks past me, swiftly darting out the lobby doors. I watch her leave before quickly glancing back at the elevator in contemplation. I’m meeting up with Maddison and Logan tonight, planning to have a late-night celebratory drink on their porch now that the rain has stopped.
But instead, I find myself turning on my heel and jogging out the lobby doors to chase after a flight attendant who seems hell-bent on getting away from me.
“Wait!” I call out, busting through the front doors.
She stops in her tracks and turns my way, looking disheveled as fuck, and I have no idea why I’m chasing after this girl right now.
“Where...uh. Where are you going? It’s after midnight.”
Why do I give a fuck is the better question.
Stevie looks down the street in the direction she’s headed. “Just running an errand.”
“Where?” Again, why the hell do I care? “Chicago is not a safe city to be wandering around by yourself at night.”
“Only a block over. I’m fine.”
Stevie turns away from me, hastily continuing on her way.
Rolling my eyes at her in frustration, I jog to catch up and gently grab her elbow, turning her back to face me. “Stevie, wait.”
As she turns around, my fingers slide down, skimming her light brown skin and softly holding on to her forearm.
She looks down at my hand before glancing up at me. “Yes?”
Yeah, Evan, what? What the fuck are you planning to say? Why do you keep chasing this chick who clearly wants to get away from you?
I retrieve my hand from her arm, trying to form a sentence. Since I’ve known this girl, I’ve had a blast getting under her skin and flustering the hell out of her. However, tonight, I’m the one who’s lost their charm and can’t speak in proper sentences.
Thankfully, she speaks before I have to. “You smell like sex.”
I straighten up a bit, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips. “Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“Sounded like one.”
She rolls her eyes. “Can’t really fault you. You did say you were going to celebrate with a couple of special someones tonight.”
My brows shoot up at that statement. “You watched my game?”