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“Can I help you?” she asks, sounding irritated.
“I sure hope you can,” I begin, running a hand through my hair. “My friend left some of her things inside your apartment, and I was hoping I could retrieve them for her.”
She looks confused. “What was she doing inside my apartment, exactly?”
“Right. Maybe you should ask your husband that one,” I suggest with a wink. “I’ll give you a hint, though. He wasn’t teaching her to knit.”
“Are you kidding me?” she says, glaring at me.
She swings the door wide open, giving me a great look at their apartment. I’m pleased that mine is bigger—and more tastefully furnished.
“Jake, get the fuck out here,” she cries.
A man who I assume is Jake appears from the bedroom, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. He glances at me, the color draining from his face. I smile at him and wave. If he recognizes me, then he probably knows why I’m here.
“Look, I'm not here to cause trouble. I just want Alana’s things,” I say to him.
“Alana?” he repeats, shaking his head as if the name means nothing to him.
I laugh. Is he really trying to play dumb?
“Yes,” I say slowly. “The chick you had in here just before your wife came home from work—” I glance at her and wince. “Early, I presume?” she nods. I turn back to Jake and shake my head. “Really, Jake? Shoving your side piece of ass, practically naked, onto the balcony so your wife wouldn’t find out what you’d been up to? You’re lucky she didn’t end up with hypothermia.”
“I didn’t…” He glances at his wife, his desperation oozing from his voice.
“You didn’t what?” she screams at him.
I wince as she stalks over to him and slaps him across the face. He pleads with her to listen, which leads to the two of them fighting it out, right there in front of me. I tap my foot impatiently, waiting for one of them to remember I’m standing right there. After a few moments, I realize that’s not going to happen.
I spot Alana’s phone peeking out from under the coffee table, so I walk over and scoop it up, along with her dress which is balled up under a cushion on the couch.
“Lovely to meet you both,” I say, walking back to the door. They both turn to stare at me in shock. “If either of you ever needs anything…sugar, coffee, marriage counseling…I’m right next door.”
“There,” I say, smirking at her as I walk back inside my apartment. “You can put that on if you must.”
She steps into her dress, slowly sliding it up over her thighs. I watch the sweater as it rises, watching her expertly dress in front of me while revealing as little as possible. She struggles with the zip, so I motion for her to turn around so I can help her out. She jumps as my fingers touch her back—accidentally, of course.
“Sorry,” I murmur. An awkward silence happens between us. “I can see why he took you home,” I murmur, glancing at her in that dress. “But what I don’t understand is why he let you go.”
She flushes and glances down, smoothing the fabric over her curves. I reach into my pocket and pull out her phone, handing it back to her.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“You don’t need to go if you don’t want to,” I say as she walks toward the door.
She shakes her head and looks down, an embarrassed smile on her lips.
“I think I’d better. And anyway, I’ve wasted enough of your time already.” She hesitates and gives me a smile. “Thank you for what you did. It means a lot to me.”
I nod, clenching my hands into fists. It takes every part of me to restrain from stalking over to her, pushing her body against the door and kissing the fuck out of those luscious red lips.
“Anytime,” I say. “I’ll see you Monday, Alana.”
I watch her disappear down the hallway, and then I close the door quietly, before sauntering back into the living room. I walk over to the balcony and stare out, hoping to get another glimpse of her. She doesn’t appear, and after a while, I give up and wander down to my bedroom, taking the work I really needed to finish, with me. I frown at the documents. I’m way too tired for this. I toss them on the floor, where I can deal with them in the morning.
I stifle a yawn and reach for my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I reach Jade. It goes straight to voicemail, which suits me fine. I wait patiently as her welcome message plays, encouraging me to leave a message after the tone.
“Jade, it’s Chase,” I say, walking over to my bed. “Don’t bother coming into work on Monday. You’re fired.”
Unbuckling my pants, I shrug them off, then I place my phone on charge and climb into bed. I smile as I close my eyes and snuggle into my pillow, because that felt fucking good.
