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An eerie charge crackles through me as I glance up at the black semi-dome above the door, the camera inside the casing angled down at me, and then at the bigger wall-mounted camera at the top before settling my unnerved gaze at the peephole.
As I press the doorbell, my body begins to tingle inexplicably at the idea that he’s watching me, and as a thin layer of cool sweat mists my skin, I fidget, paralyzed by the thought that he’s staring at me through the peephole.
It's creepy… or at least, it should be…
My heartbeat thumps in my ears, and I count five of them before one lock clicks, and then another, and finally… Greyson opens the door, looking like he’s just put his T-shirt on.
“Look…”
This is the point at which I know my mouth is about to run away with itself, but I can’t stop it, listening as if a third party as I ramble on and on, explaining the stain removers, the multiple bleach baths, showing the yellow ring and the frayed cotton where I scrubbed too hard.
The man is like a freaking statue as he watches me, his annoyingly perfect face unmoving but for occasional narrowing of his pale eyes or the slight upward tilt in the crook of his lips, or dark glimmers of mirth which dance across his pallid eyes.
His body barely moves, the thing giant and no doubt weighing twice what mine does, though I do notice his arms tensing as his gaze roams avidly down the length of my body one single time, pausing at my tits before finding my eyes.
The way he does is not quite lecherous, but more… deviant and unabashed.
I prattle on and on, wishing Fran would body-slam me to shut me up, but instead, I feel my little speech rolling to an end, which I’m frankly relieved about as I’ve had enough of holding back the sass just because I made one innocent mistake.
“So, I’ve tried everything. It’s not coming out. I can pay you in cash. I just… need to wait till my next paycheck.”
He blinks at me slowly. “Pay me for what, Indigo?”
Christ, the way my name rolls off his full, large lips is kind of sinful. Although frankly, I’m still somewhat mad that he knows it.
“For the shirt,” I press on. “I want to pay you back.”
He holds his hand out and I hand it to him. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Well, I insist.”
His weight shifts. “Goodbye, Indigo.” He leans his head out, peering down the corridor just in time to see Fran duck her flaming red-haired noggin back inside the doorframe. “And goodbye to your friend,” he says, raising his voice deliberately loud so that she can hear him.
“Goodbye,” squeaks out Fran, hiding for a moment before ducking her head back out, causing both of us to unite in mortification.
He turns back to look at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
My spine snaps up and my mouth goes dry as I try to make sense of his words.
“I mean… maybe you will,” I stutter. “Maybe you won’t…”
He smiles, closing the door behind him and leaving me feeling like I’ve just gone three rounds with my favorite vibrator while on stage.
“Well, at least we were both mortified,” I decide as I get back inside and close the door.
“What was thatSee you tomorrowcrap?” asks Fran.
“Lord knows. I offered to pay for the shirt. If he doesn’t want it, that’s his problem. As far as I’m concerned, we’re even, and if he thinks I owe himone more minute, he’s got another thing coming.”
My phone dings on the countertop, and I see a message from Kohl, the guy I’ve been seeing casually these last few weeks.
Can I see you tonight?
“God, it’s Kohl. He wants to see me.”
“Still into you, huh?”
“I guess… I told him when we first hooked up that I wasn’t ready for a relationship. I thought he got it, but I’m starting to wonder.”
