AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Sharpe,” he’s saying now, whipping his hat back onto his head as he skids behind the counter. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m expecting a package.”
“Of course, let me check on that.” He darts into the back, and I rise, surprised to find that my legs are no longer shaky. In fact, I feel about a million times better. Maybe all the laughter and bad date stories helped relax me after all.
I sidle up to the counter and lean against it. Mrs. Sharpe glares at me. “Zayne just helped me out with a creepy date,” I explain. “The guy followed me home, tried to attack me…”
That softens her up. The crease in her forehead disappears, and Mrs. Sharpe pats my arm instead. “Take my advice, honey,” she says. Zayne returns with her package, and she accepts it with a smile, tucking it under her arm before she turns to me once more. “Find a good man, not a nice guy,” she finishes. Then she’s off toward the elevator and I can feel my cheeks heating as I peek at Zayne.
“Good advice,” he says, leaning on the counter with a grin. If he’s bothered at all by the fact that Mrs. Sharpe discovered him away from his desk, it doesn’t show.
What are you doing, Clove? I can’t flirt with him while he’s working. I shouldn’t be flirting with him at all, anyway. He’s my doorman. He works here. I’ve walked past him every day for the last two years, and with any luck, I’ll walk past him every day for the next two as well, because I love this apartment. It’s my home. I can’t do anything to jeopardize that.
“I’ll quit distracting you,” I say, my tone apologetic. “Thanks again, for everything.”
“Anytime,” he replies, then stops himself, shaking his head. “Although, of course, I hope you never have to deal with a piece of shit like that guy ever again.”
I laugh. “Here’s hoping.”
“Yes,” he agrees, eyes suddenly sincere again, locked on me. “Here’s hoping.”
With that, I leave him to his front desk duties. I wipe my palms on my jeans as I go. Ignore the fresh sparking in my nerve endings. This time, I definitely can’t blame it on adrenaline or fear. This time, I know exactly what’s causing it.
But that’s the worst possible idea. If I hooked up with Zayne and things went sour, they’d go really sour.
So, I push my floor in the elevator, let the doors close behind me, and try not to think about the insanely hot man I just discovered hiding behind my doorman’s uniform.
