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LIA
On any other night, I loved living alone.
Fucking loved it.
Pants were optional and bras were such an afterthought they might as well not exist. On some days, they were shed at the door and flung onto the couch where they’d hang out for a couple hours while I showered with the door open and walked around naked for no reason. Ninety percent of the time, in my little 18th Street apartment, I was in some state of undress – in a T-shirt and panties or just panties. Sometimes a robe left untied. Sweats and a bra, perhaps?
Or maybe nothing at all.
It was my personal retaliation for having gone my first twenty-five years without my own bedroom – without my own voice or taste or tiny lick of independence. Thanks to that late start, I loved the freedom of living alone like a normal person loved their mother or spouse.
But tonight was one of those nights that made me kind of itch for a roommate.
Mostly because I didn’t want to be the one to get up and investigate the bumping and thumping outside in the hall. It was almost 10:30PM – all I wanted at this hour was to play some Sia, pour some wine and risk the safety of my iPad as I read it in the bath. I wanted to paint my toes in Essie’s Chinchilly, sleep by midnight and wake up early to start the custom order of truffles that had to be shipped to a Long Island wedding by Tuesday.
So while it was selfish and vaguely bitchy, I pretended not to hear my neighbor struggling out in the hall. More often than not, it was her finicky lock giving her trouble, and generally, I was the one who came to the rescue.
But not tonight.
“You’ll figure it out, Tess,” I whispered as I finally let myself close my eyes and breathe in the lavender steam. I sighed as I leaned slowly back in the hot water, soaking in the Epsom salts and feeling them start to buzz against my skin.
But the second my head touched my bath pillow, a loud noise sounded outside.
My eyes flew back open as I waited to hear it again. I breathed out when several seconds of silence passed – even waited another few to be safe. Once I ruled that the coast was clear, I grabbed my glass of wine and relaxed once more.
But my back had barely hit the tub before the sound came back louder.
Thump!
“Tess!” I groaned to myself, sitting up and staring out my bathroom door. I waited to hear a strike three but instead of a thump this time, it was a splintering crash. “Shit!” Water sloshed onto the floor as I immediately jumped up and grabbed my robe, my heart beating fast as I imagined Tess bleeding on the floor in the hall, surrounded by a million shards of glass all because I wouldn’t get out of my bath.
Shit, shit, shit. I cursed myself as my feet tracked water all throughout the house till I breathlessly reached the door, my fingers unlatching all three locks at lightning speed before gripping the knob and swinging it wide open.
And once the door was open, I stared. Then I stared some more.
Holy… what.
It wasn’t Tess. I knew that because my eyes hit chest first – wide, hard chest stretching the soft cotton of a heather grey V-neck. I could practically hear my jaw creaking open as my gaze then traveled north to broad shoulders, sculpted collarbones, and a square jaw boasting the kind of dark, trimmed stubble that made my fingers twitch with the need to touch.
Shit. I had to catch my breath when our eyes finally locked, feeling legitimately smacked in the face with this stranger’s gorgeousness. He was an absolute wall of muscle and beauty with thick, dark hair and light green eyes and for a moment I forgot where I was, because in what world did a man who looked like this end up at my door?
“Hi,” he said with a faint smile. “Lia, right?”
My head tilted. And in what world did he somehow know my name?
“I…” I failed to sort through all the questions at the tip of my tongue. “Hi,” I finally said, letting go of my mission to magically figure out what was happening. Instead, I waited for him to introduce himself and tell me who he was – whether he had in fact been plucked from the cover of Men’s Health or maybe some steamy billboard for Calvin Klein. But instead he stood there a moment, brows up as his gaze dipped down to my body – and only then did I realize what I barely had on.
“Shit,” I hissed, grabbing my robe and wondering how much of me he’d seen before I remembered to actually tie the thing shut.
“I should probably be looking away, right?” the stranger asked. With a laugh. I shot daggers at him as I struggled to fix my indecency.
“Yes?” I answered brusquely, my cheeks burning as I cinched the sash around my waist. I stared at the stranger as he faced away from me now, chewing a wicked grin back as he palmed that ridiculously square jaw. “What did you see?” I demanded hotly. “Did you see anything?”
“I saw a lot. It depends on what your definition of anything is.”
“It’s – ” My lips parted but snapped shut. I meant nipple but I wasn’t about to say it. He laughed.
“If you mean nipple, my answer is no.”
My mouth fell open.
“Unless you count what I can see through that wet thing you’re wearing.”
I stared down at myself and hastily fanned my hair over my breasts. I wanted to call him out but I couldn’t find my words so glaring back up, I simply snapped, “Who are you?”
“Lukas Hendricks. I’m Tess’s brother.”
I gaped at him as he turned back to me. “Really?” It was hard to imagine. He looked about a foot taller and wider than her, and I could already tell he shared none of her manners or humility. Fuming, I craned my neck to see past his broad frame, finally spotting the shattered remains of the floor vase that once sat at the end of the hall between our doors. “What just happened?”
He peered over his shoulder, letting out a short breath of annoyance. “Right. I was having some trouble with the key. Might’ve swung my bag into the vase and knocked it over.”
I stared at the
tiny shards of ceramic all over the floor, sobered quickly by the sight of Tess’s prized possession. “That was her favorite vase.”
“She’ll forgive me.”
I flicked my eyes back to him, doing little to mask my distaste for his nonchalance. “Right. Well, what can I help you with right now?” I asked. His crooked smile acknowledged my irritation.
