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“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m exactly where I was before I paid a lady in a Snuggie fifty bucks for absolutely no reason.”
April smiled sadly. “I had fun.”
“Me too.”
I pulled up in front of my duplex a few minutes later, the familiar comfort of the river at its back settling through me as I stepped out of the car. I loved the sound of the water, the familiarity of my little house in the woods.
Only, there was a car I didn’t recognize here in my second spot. A flashy black SUV, all shiny and covered with chrome.
I figured my neighbor must’ve had a visitor who didn’t know which side to park on. Oh well, didn’t matter. I only had one car anyway.
I climbed the steps to the front door, turned my key in the lock, and pushed it open, but then quickly pulled it shut again after a stream of expletives ejected themselves noisily from my lips.
Shock and fear raced through me as I tried to process what I’d just seen inside my house. The scent of pizza still surrounded me, as it had rushed out the door when I’d pushed it open.
I pulled out my phone and texted April.
Me: There is a naked man on my couch!
April: Your lucky day!
Me: I’m scared!
April: What’s he doing?
Me: He’s sleeping
There, inside the front door of my apartment, asleep on my living room couch in front of the blaring television, had been a very naked man.
April: Was he hot?
Me: I don’t know. I ran back outside. I was in shock.
April: What are you going to do?
Me: I guess I’m going to wake him up.
April: Call me so we can hear if you need help. I’ll send Callan if you need him.
Me: Okay.
I dialed April’s number and greeted her in a whisper. “I’m going in.”
“I’m here.”
And then I pushed open my front door and stepped inside quietly, shocked all over again by the naked man sprawled on my couch.
Only this time, I wasn’t shocked that he was there. I was shocked that of all the couches in Singletree, this completely perfect specimen of naked manhood happened to land on mine.
Sure, he could still be a psycho killer, but that didn’t take away one little bit from the fact that the guy in front of me snoring lightly as a hockey game screamed out of the television in front of him could have been the star of a classic painting.
Muscled legs, sculpted abs that I could count if I peered closely enough, miles of golden skin covered with a light smattering of fine blond hair. Lips that were just full enough, but not too full to be masculine, and a chiseled jaw that showed hints of that same blond hair in a light stubble.
The other parts down below also appeared more than adequate, but I wasn’t going to stand here meat-gazing a potential serial killer. Still... impressive.
It was time to wake him up.
