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“Ohhh,” he remarked, dragging the word out a little with a suddenly mischievous, knowing glint in his eyes. “So, you're the new neighbors I've heard so much about.”
“Heard so much about?” I asked, wondering why anyone would be talking about us.
“And what exactly is it that you've heard about us?” asked Leslie.
Emerson looked us each up and down briefly and smiled. “Oh, this and that,” he replied, still grinning.
His gaze returned to the sofa on the back of the truck. “Wow. That is quite the sofa. I haven't seen one of those since I was about this tall,” he remarked, holding a hand to the side of his knee to indicate the height
of a small child. “My uncle had one just like that when I was a little kid. Only, his was red. It didn't last too long, though. My aunt had a bunch of cats and they tore it to shreds. That was a tough sofa, though, I remember that about it.”
“Yeah, it's pretty solid alright,” Leslie sighed, rolling her eyes. “Too damn solid for us to get it off the back of the truck!”
“Say no more,” Emerson announced. “I'll go get my roommate, Chris. I think we can get it off the back of the truck for you.”
“Seriously?” I asked. “You'd help us out with it?”
When he looked at me, I could have sworn his gaze lingered over me for a few moments longer than necessary.
“It's no big deal,” he insisted. “We were just about to head off to the gym to work out anyway, so this'll be a good warm-up. You two just hang tight, I'll be back in a minute.”
He set his helmet down on the tank of the bike and jogged into the building. After he was out of sight, Leslie and I looked at each other, simultaneously bursting into a fit of giggles.
“Oh, my God!” Leslie exclaimed. “How freakin’ hot is he? And I saw him checking you out! Oh yeah, he's got a thing for you.”
A blush warmed my cheeks. “He wasn't looking at me like that.”
“Yeah, he was.”
“No, he wasn't. And besides, just look at him.”
“Oh, I did, girl, I did!” She cocked an eyebrow and grinned.
“C'mon, Les, that's not what I meant. We both know exactly what type of guy he is. Tight shirt to show off his physique. Big, flashy bike to attract attention. Shampoo-commercial hair that looks like it takes him more time in the morning to get ready than you or me. He's probably a self-absorbed douchebag who goes through girls like a Pez dispenser.”
“And, if he is? What's wrong with having a little fun with a guy like that?”
I shook my head and folded my arms across my chest, feeling a bit of defensiveness creeping in. “Maybe it's alright for you, Les, but I'm…I'm just not that kinda girl, and you know it. Besides, after the Andrew thing, I mean-”
“Oh my God, Brooke,” she exclaimed, giving me another one of her trademark eye rolls. “I thought we agreed that you weren't gonna bring up the A-word today. Please, his name doesn’t deserve to be mentioned. Ever. I know you're still hurting, but seriously, it’s been long enough, BeeBee. You have to actually make an effort to move on. I've told you a million times: I can't stand to see you stuck like this, unable to get past what he did to you. You're never gonna get over him if you carry on like this, you know that. Come on, you’re a smart girl! There's a totally hot guy who's clearly attracted to you, and he lives right next door! Look, I'm not telling you to jump in the sack with him right off the bat. Hell, take things as slowly as you're comfortable with. But seriously, don't write him off without even making just a little effort to get to know him! Who knows, he might be totally different than what you're judging him to be and-”
“He isn't,” I said flatly. I wasn't sure why, but a burning feeling of annoyance was bubbling beneath my skin.
“You don't know that.”
“And, you don't know that I’m wrong, either,” I countered. “Anyway, doesn’t matter. Besides, subject change: He's coming back with his friend.”
Leslie glanced up and saw Emerson coming out of the apartment building followed by a very muscular, deeply-tanned guy with short, spiky hair held in place with what I could only guess was an entire bottle of gel. Bulging muscles screamed against an impossibly tight wife-beater tank. I tried not to squint my eyes in a way that made it obvious I was questioning his decision to wear the garish gold chain that hung around his neck. He looked us each up and down without even trying to conceal it and whistled slowly from between his teeth.
“Ladies,” he said with a cheeky smile. “Welcome to our kingdom! I'm Chris, King of the Realm. And, you two are obviously the princesses we've been waiting for.”
He laughed boisterously at his own joke while Leslie and I shot each other sideways glances out of the corners of our eyes and shook our heads as we chuckled politely. There may have been a little controversy regarding what kind of guy Emerson was, but there certainly wasn't any about Chris.
He hopped up onto the back of the truck next to me and pulled his sunglasses down his nose a bit so that he could lock his brown eyes with mine for a second. I looked away, not wanting him to see the distaste in my eyes and think I was being completely rude. Thankfully, he seemed completely oblivious to it.
“I heard you ladies needed some muscle,” he said as he flexed his enormous biceps. “Well, as you can tell, there's more than enough of that to go around!” He grinned and flexed in front of us again, prompting a bout of giggles from Leslie. I couldn't quite tell if they were mocking giggles or if she was, on some level, actually attracted to this dim-wit.
Again, Chris laughed loudly at his own lame joke, and I couldn't stop myself from shaking my head and wondering just what type of girls fell for this guy; no matter how hot his body was, he was a tool.
