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Not expecting anyone, I yelped and dropped the spoon.
As it clattered onto the countertop, the main door started to open, only to get held up by the chain door guard and jar to an abrupt halt.
“Oh!” I said, scrambling forward, certain it was Thalia. “Hold up.”
But the door had already slammed shut again.
Determined to catch my roommate and let her in, I hustled to the entrance and fumbled to slide the chain off. Then I tried to pull the door open, only to realize she’d relocked it from the outside, so I had to twist the lock, and then,voilà, I finally had the thing unlocked.
But when I pulled it open and peered outside, no one was there.
“Thalia?” I asked as I stepped barefoot onto the front steps. “Hello?”
She was long gone. As was my fantasy jogger.
Only three guys with book bags slumped over their shoulders were walking past and talking to each other, paying absolutely no attention to me.
“Huh,” I mumbled, scratching my hair in confusion.
That was strange. I wonder where she—
“Hey!” a voice growled from behind me…inside my apartment.
A very male, very angry voice.
I screamed and whirled around to find a shadowy silhouette exiting the back hall from the rear entrance and wielding the umbrella that I’d had hanging from a hook back there. He held it as if it were a bat with his knees bent slightly and feet spread apart in that typical, I’m-ready-to-kick-ass stance.
He shuffled into the room as if uncertain but still ready to dive into a physical brawl.
Oh, and did I forget to mention he was shirtless?
No, scratch that. Hehada shirt. He just wasn’t wearing it. It was dangling from the back pocket of his running shorts. And his shoes were the same yellow and neon-orange atrocities that my favorite jogger wore.
When he moved into the light enough for me to see his face, I pulled back in surprise before breathing, “Whoa.”
Because hewasmy hot jogger guy.
3
OAKLYNN
Somewhere in my brain, I knew I should be straight-up terrified. Someone I didn’t know had just broken into my apartment and was wielding a… kind of weapon.
I think my brain even tried to get the ball rolling.
Alright, guys! This is Stranger Danger 101. Heartbeat, initiate overdrive mode.
Check. My pulse was definitely picking up speed.
Skin, sound the alarm.
And there went my flesh, prickling in his presence.
Arms and legs, brace for possible—Reproductive organs! No. Stand down. You are not—dammit, vagina. Don’t prepare for sex. And nipples, don’t you dare follow her lead. We’re scared right now, not turned on. I mean, look at him. We do not know him. He’s not supposed to be here. We don’t care how hot he looks with all that menacing, male aggression on full display…or what a gorgeous color his narrowed eyes are. And maybe it IS slightly thrilling to imagine those hands gripped gently around your throat instead of that umbrella as he pinned you to a wall and—fuck. Where was I going with this?
In front of me, the gorgeous intruder fell to a stop and straightened to his full height when he got a good look at me.
The umbrella fell limply to his side, letting me know he no longer considered me to be a threat—probably because he could sense I was more aroused by him than scared—and he furrowed his brow in confusion. His lips parted as he glanced me over from head to toe. Then he slid his attention to the island where my breakfast remains sat.
