“Stop.” Gage shot a hard look at his brother, then turned back to me. “Just making sure—”
“As we’ve established, I’m fine.” I glared at my neighbor, which might have seemed unnecessarily hostile, but we had history, albeit brief. “So, unless you’ve come to mansplain recycling to me again...”
He grinned, once more showing his perfect teeth. God, I bet that smile worked on 99.9 percent of the female hetero population. I was staunchly in the one-tenth of a percent not falling for his clean-cut charm, even though I felt a tingle in my spine and a few other places, and not for the first time in his presence.
I scowled back at him.
“Like I said at the time, I’m sorry about that. I knew you’d just moved back to the States, and there’s no signage in the recycling area...” He shook his head. “Anyway, sorry, and I’m glad you’refine.”
He said the word the same way his brother had, but instead of being annoyed, as I should have been, my body tingled again. Goddamnit.
“You know how he could make it up to you?” Will said. “With an invitation to the wedding of the season,” he continued, without waiting for either of us to answer. “Gage here is a groomsman for Rex Buchanan, who’s getting married at The Plaza in two weeks. He needs a plus-one.”
Gage shook his head. “Will, knock it off. I don’t need a date.”
“You kind of do,” Will said so softly, I almost missed it. “See, there’s this bet between the groomsmen and the bridesmaids about bringing dates.”
Gage elbowed his brother in the ribs. “It’s a long, boring story.”
I was curious about the exchange, but not enough to ask follow-up questions. Besides, interrogating neighbors is not a good way to lie low. I glanced at the sexy do-gooder, then looked away because do-gooders are not my type, so I shouldn’t be noticing how sexy he was. “I’m sure 6A has no problem getting his own dates.” That made both brothers raise their eyebrows. “And we’re not exactly each other’s favorite people.”
I scowled harder and moved to close the door.
“Sounds like you two got off on the wrong foot,” Will said, stepping closer, “but in his defense, he’s an expert in a few different areas of environmental research and the vice president leading the Buchanan Group’s clean energy initiative.”
Wow, this guy was his brother’s personal PR rep. Or his wingman. I narrowed my eyes at my neighbor.
“Since mansplaining is when a guy explains things he doesn’t actually understand,” Will continued, “and Gage is an expert in the field, he wasn’t actually—”
I cut my gaze to Will and held up a hand to stop him. “Are you trying to mansplain mansplaining to me?”
Will dropped his jaw but didn’t speak. I suspected that was a rare occurrence for him.
“I think that’s your cue to leave.” Gage chuckled as he patted his brother’s shoulder. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, anyway?”
“No, I—” Will glanced at his watch. “Oh, shit. I forgot how long the soccer match went.” He glanced at me. “We play lots of sports to stay fit, by the way.” He jogged toward the fire door, to the stairwell at the end of the hall. “And now I have to get home so my wife and I can take our seventeen-month-old to meet Santa for the first time.” He stopped and turned back toward us. “Gage is great with my son, by the way. He loves kids.”
So that was the reason for his babbling. Still trying to set up his uber-hot, definitely did-not-need-his-help brother with a date.
“Loves sports, loves kids, loves the environment,” I summarized. I glanced at my neighbor, who was staring stone-faced at his brother. “Got it.”
“Ignore him,” Gage said.
Will was halfway through the fire door when he turned around again. “Oh, and animals. He also loves animals.” He waved and disappeared into the stairwell.
The thick metal door slammed shut behind him. Mr. Whiskerbottom Fuzzypants screamed bloody murder.
I rushed into the apartment. “It’s okay, buddy, it was just a loud door.”
He stopped screaming but started growling.
“Is that an animal?” Gage asked from the doorway.
I hurried back to the front door to partially block his view. I was in full-on defensive mode because I’d be damned if my nosy neighbors were going to force me to send my foster charge back to the shelter.
“He’s a house cat, if you must know. Totally allowed, according to the building’s covenants. He’s only here for three weeks while I foster him over the holidays. And the screaming isn’t his fault because he’s had a tough life and this is scary, and I wasn’t prepared for him.” NowIwas babbling, but I couldn’t help myself. “When I signed up for a holiday foster, I expected a small dog. But Penny, who runs the shelter, said I’m the only volunteer Mr. Whiskerbottom Fuzzypants really likes, which I don’t understand, but he needed someone, and I promised him, and I’m not...” I ran out of air.
Gage stepped across the threshold of my apartment and spoke quietly. “Six B, it’s all right. Take a breath. He just needs time to settle in. You both do.” He pointed to the apartment across from mine. “Have you met Florence Colby in 6D?”
