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I grab the tea, walk it over to the ficus in the corner of the room, and drain the cup into the painted cement pot. My mind is still racing. On the bright side? I wasn’t arrested. On the downside—it looks like I’m having an impromptu sleepover with my hot neighbor.
Which means I need a game plan. It doesn’t take long before one takes shape in my head. Turns out, it’s pretty simple:
Step One: Stay calm.
Step Two: Act innocent.
Step Three: Lie if you have to.
Step Four: Flirt if you must.
Step Five: Do not, under any circumstances, look directly into his eyes!
I think I’ve got all my bases covered. With my five-step plan in place, I’m feeling a little more confident when Uri walks back into the room. Of course, one look at that smile of his and my confidence is gonna start to unravel just like my tights did.
Remember Step One, Alyssa. Stay calm.I touch my charm anyway, just for good luck. “Did the officer give you any additional information?” I ask. I’m proud to report that my voice doesn’t even wobble or crack.
Uri is stone-faced. “They’re surveilling the area now. He said he’d let me know if there are updates.”
“You know, you don’t have to put me up. I can always go sleep at my friend’s place,” I suggest. “I don’t want to impose.”
He sits down next to me and crosses one leg over the other. “What kind of neighbor would I be if I didn’t offer you refuge when you need it?”
That would be really sweet if it weren’t for the fact that I’m pretty sure he has an agenda. It’s not like he’s running around door-to-door, offering Mrs. Heidegger and the other neighbors a safe haven. Then again, he hasn’t had sex with them, either.
At least, I don’t think he has. Though the thought of this behemoth of a man giving the moth-balling-smelling Mrs. Heidegger the dining room table treatment I got earlier tonight is pretty hilarious.
“Since you’re here, I can have my men bring you your package. It must be somewhere on the grounds.”
I do my best not to flinch.Remember the plan.“No need. You can keep it.”
“I’ve got my own toys.”
My gaze snaps to him so hard my neck pops. Pretty sure that the open gawking violates several stages of my five-step plan, but I’m having a wee bit of trouble concentrating on that right now. “Right. Of course. Silly me.”
He doesn’t seem to mind the silence that follows, but I start squirming after the first couple of seconds. Step One has thus far been a resounding failure.
“It really was for my friend,” I blurt. “The toys, I mean. They were for Elle. Not for me.”
Uri smirks. “It sounds like she and I would get along.”
“She’s getting married,” I snap before I can second-guess the impulse. “And even if she weren’t, you wouldn’t be her type.”
“She’s not my type, either,” he says with a casual shrug.
I frown. “How do you know that? You’ve never even met her.”
“She’s obviously the kind of woman who believes in marriage.” His irises have this weird kind of depth that makes me want to take a swim in them. “Marriage and I don’t mix.”
“Imagine my shock,” I say sarcastically. “You know, you may not be able to dodge that bullet forever. One day, one of those women you sleep with is gonna want more.”
“Seeing as how they never get a second date, I don’t see how that’s possible.”
My jaw drops. “Seriously? You’ve never been with the same woman twice?”
He looks remarkably comfortable sprawled out on the sofa next to me. “Never felt the need.” He throws me a flippant glance and my cheeks start firing up immediately. I don’t know why I even care. The man gets fingers in the freaking mail. I shouldn’t evenwanta second date with him.
Idon’twant a second date with him.
