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“Your name’s Gemma, right?” the voice asks. “We’re neighbors.”
“Yes,” I reply without looking at him.
Gah!I can’t believe that Wyatt Everdeen is talking to me. Right now, his sexy voice is making my toes curl in my sensible shoes.
He laughs. “And I guess you could say that we share a wall.”
I love that wall.
I sometimes press my ear against our shared wall to listen to his music. I love to learn what he likes and what interests him. If it wasn’t for the paper thin walls in this building, I’d never get close to the real him.
Suddenly a happy memory pops into my head. Last year, on my birthday, I swear that Wyatt playedIf You Knewby Jeff Buckley for me. As the song blared from his speakers, I hugged my pillow and pretended it was him.
“I’m Wyatt…and I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind telling me the name of that song that I thought I heard you singing earlier. I just recited the lyrics, right?”
Good grief! Does he really think that the three fervent words that I sent him—from my obsessed heart—are part of a song?
“What song?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
Please God make this elevator hurry up and get here. I swear that I’m going to faint any second now!
He laughs. “Yeah. You know it goes something like—love, love, love.Does it ring a bell now?”
He’s messing with me!!
I shake my head vehemently and pretend to be picking lint off of my coat. “Nope.”
“It’s…er…” He pauses. “Hey, you dropped your scarf.”
My heart stutters. “I, um—”
“Here it is,” he says, cutting me off.
“Oh, gee, thanks,” I reply before snatching it from his perfect hands.
“My pleasure.”
Uh-oh.
When our eyes finally lock, all of the air is sucked out of my lungs.
Ding!
The elevator doors open, but I’m frozen.
My God, he’s a total Adonis!
Wyatt’s eyes roam over my face slowly. Then, in a flash, he reaches over me and stops the doors from closing. Right now, his sexy muscular chest is situated just a few inches from my face. At over six feet tall, he looms and towers over my petite frame. “Whoops! Don’t miss your elevator,” he cautions in a playful tone.
Sweet God…
Suddenly something comes over me and I feel like the world fades away and all that’s left is Wyatt. Then I close my eyes and breathe in his masculine aftershave scent. “Oh Wyatt...Wyatt…Wyatt,” I murmur absently like a schoolgirl with a crush. Then my eyes snap open and my face burns with embarrassment. “Sorry!”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m here…here…here,” he rasps before nuzzling his nose against my hair and inhaling deep.
Is this really happening?! He’s smelling me back!
“You smell like strawberries,” he remarks, his free hand coming up to caress my face. “The expensive ones from Japan.”
