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Alexis
Description
Alright, Mr. SEAL. You’re sweet. And that’s a giant…uhm…’fin’?
But, like, why do you like me?
You protect me all the time. Even when I don’t know you’re there.
I mean, you take strong and silent type to the extreme.
But it’s cute. It’s sweet. I can’t get enough of you.
And if other people fall in love at hello, I fell for you at just your glance. Mainly because you’re so quiet you didn’t even bother saying hello.
But WHO are you?
What do you want with me?
Will you stay?
I’m dying because I need to find out…
*** It's the cute single girl versus the Big Bad SEAL in this installment from Mona Cox. Guaranteed to be sweet, sassy, and fun. No cheating or cliffhangers. Happy Ending? Always, babe ***
30
Stacy
Good morning, New York, I think to myself, taking a deep breath as I step out of my apartment building. The air is fresh and clear, and the colors of the city look vibrant in their morning dress, the sun making its steady climb over a clear blue sky.
It’s a good day to be alive.
I march onto the sidewalk, blending in with the crowd of New Yorkers, and start making my way toward the studio. It’s one of the ultimate luxuries, the way I see it - being able to walk to work every morning. No buses, no subway, no endless lines of impatient people clutching their coffee cups. Just me and the click of my heels on the pavement, the morning breeze gently whipping my hair back.
Buying an apartment here, 53rd and Lexington, was probably one of the smartest things I’ve ever done. It’s only a short stroll to 53rd and 6th Avenue, where Rockefeller Center rises from its concrete roots to tower over its domain, which means I can commute in about five minutes. And without that terrible morning anxiety.
“Stacy!” One guy in headphones waves at me from the other side of the street, and I wave right back at him, a cheery smile on my lips. I’ve never seen him before, but that doesn’t count for much. I’m the lead singer on Saturday Night Laughs, which kind of makes me an household name in the country.
“STACY!” Another girl squeals from behind me, and I hear her sure footsteps closing in on me. “Can I… take a… selfie?” She asks me as I turn on my heels to face her. There’s a crimson flush to her cheeks, and she’s breathing hard, which means she has probably ran all the way toward me. She has pretty eyes of a clear green, and her red hair is tied up in a bun, which gives her a tomboyish look; all in all, she can’t be older than fourteen.
“Sure!” I tell her, placing one arm around her and smiling to her phone as she holds it up in front of us.
“Thank you, Stacy! You’re the best!” She chirps, looking down at her phone with an expression of pure delight.
“Have a good day, sweetie.” My smiles widens as I walk down the street, a few more girls waving at me. Two selfies later and the Rockefeller Center’s shadow falls over me, almost as if it were greeting me back. I take one quick glance at my wristwatch - I’m not late yet, since I always make sure I leave home earlier than I need to - and start making my way toward the studio.
That’s when I hear someone groan from the side. I stop and look around, trying to see where that sound is coming from, and then a cry of pain makes me face the dark alleyway just a few steps behind me. I walk back, stopping right before the long shadows of the alley swallow the morning warmth, and blink, my eyes adjusting to the pale light.
Straight like a train track, and equally narrow, it feels like the alley is out of place in here. Sitting on the hard concrete floor, there’s a man with a ragged jacket; he’s clutching one arm close to his chest, his teeth gritted as he groans in pain.
“Please… Help me…” He groans again, raising his eyes toward me. He seems old, an unkempt beard adorning his cheeks, the creases around his eyes like grooves on wood.
“Are you okay, sir?” I ask him, taking a few steps into the alley. The shadows swallow me whole, and the sounds of New York seem to be muted as the cramped walls around me stop them.
“No… I… Please, help,” he groans again, unsteadily going up to his feet, his back against the wall.
“What’s the matter, sir?” I ask him again, closing the distance between him. The moment I’m within reach, his eyes narrow smartly and he moves as fast as a snake, curling his dirty fingers around my right wrist. “Hey! What are you doing?” I cry out, but he just pushes me back and presses me against the wall.
