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He chuckles then, clearly joking, and I sigh to myself. I really need to loosen up.
“Relax, I’m just teasing you. I am sure a tap falling off and water spurting everywhere is not something anyone wants to combat when they first move in,” he says, his tone kind as he leans against the sink like he is a model from a jeans commercial.
“Sorry, it’s been a big few days,” I admit, remorseful for taking out my stress on him. Yet another man who appears to be super nice and friendly.
“No need to apologize. Moving is hectic, I get it. I was just enjoying your sass, but it’s nice to see you have a sweeter side too.” I notice his eyes shimmering as his smirk turns into a smile that shows me his teeth, and I grab on to the kitchen counter before I melt into a puddle. Is he flirting with me?This is new.
I clear my throat, swallowing roughly. Day one, I get a new best friend, and day two, I nearly swoon onto the floor? “That’s me, sweet and sour rolled into one.” Before I can stop it, my mouth is rambling. “Look, I… I have just moved here on my own, and I have been here for less than twenty-four hours. The tap exploded, water is everywhere, and in an apartment that I don’t even own. And now, I have a half-naked man standing in front of me, who looks like he is cut from stone or something. I need a little bit of grace at the moment.” Biting my lip, I shut myself up, seeing him eyeing me curiously.
“Yeah, well, if it helps, my mind is not exactly on the job either.” His eyes flicker down my body and back to my eyes, and a shiver runs through me at his perusal. My knees suddenly feel weak in the best way.
We look at each other in silence. I’m not sure what is happening exactly, but there is a current in the air that started the minute I opened the door, one that feels like it has just zinged around the room. My gaze lowers to his waist without my permission. I can’t help myself as I zone in on his torso muscles, then follow a small trail of hair leading straight to his jeans. My eyes are magnetized to his body or something. I can’t look away.
“Do you have a mop?” I see him swallow again, as he is clearly trying to put us back on solid ground. Rubbing his head, he surveys the damage. His hair is a little long, as it flops across his forehead, curling at the back of his neck in a way that gives him a boyish appearance.
“No. I don’t have anything,” I say, looking around the room again, trying to get my bearings, my shoulders slumping as reality kicks in. I have no idea how to clean this up. I have no cleaning products, no money to go out and buy them. At best, I can probably mop it up with a few bath towels, but I prefer to do that without an audience. “Let me get us a towel. At least we can dry ourselves.” I feel bad for snapping at him earlier, so I am trying to not be a total pain. Eddie looks at me, his eyes searching mine like he is trying to figure me out.
“Thanks, that would be nice,” he says, giving me a smile that I swear melts my underwear clean off my body, then pulls out his cell to make a call.
It is then I look down at my appearance. My hair is wet, and I feel it stuck to the sides of my face. My clothes are damp. I was so busy checking out his wet torso, I didn’t realize that I had a whole wet t-shirt contest going on right now. No wonder his eyes were glued to my chest earlier. Self-conscious thoughts start to rise, so I turn quickly and head to the bathroom, grabbing two clean towels, and head back out to offer him one.
“Cleaning team will be here soon. They can mop up and ensure there is no water damage,” he mumbles as he turns back around and grabs the towel I offer.Shit, I didn’t even think about water damage.
“It’s fine. I can clean it up somehow,” I say in a rush, not used to people doing things for me.
“You just said you don’t have a mop?” His brow furrows as he looks back up at me. What is it about him? Holy hell, every time his eyes meet mine, I feel like I’m about ready to combust.
“I don’t, but I can do it myself. I don’t need help,” I say, my shoulders stiffening again. It’s so natural for me to do everything on my own. It’s how I’m most comfortable.
“Hmmm, stubborn too. Well, I’ll be back at some point. I need to replace the tap,” he says, pushing past the comment about me too quickly for me to reply. I watch as he rubs his bare chest, my mouth watering a little.
“How long will that take?” I jut out my hip as I try to get a handle on these new feelings swirling in my body. I don’t know why I asked, because I start work tomorrow, and my shifts will be so long I won’t even use this sink when I get home. My bed will call me almost instantly, I am sure.
“It is German made, so I am not sure if we have any in stock. Could be a couple of days, a week, tops,” he offers, sounding a bit nervous.Of course it is German made.
“What am I meant to do until then?” I ask, my eyebrows rising, almost demanding he give me the answer.
“I will need to get a plumber in to check over everything tomorrow. Water flow to the other wet areas in the apartment should be fine. Just no using this sink.”
“I won't be home. I start work tomorrow.” I know I am being difficult, but there is no way I can miss my first shift. I need this job. I step away from the counter, remembering I spotted some paper towels in the top cupboard when I put the small bag of food items away this morning. That thought sits heavy in my stomach, because now I also remember that I only have thirty-five dollars left in my bank account until payday. I feel my anxiety start to swirl.
“What do you do for work?” he asks, stepping forward, the two of us now using the towels to mop up some of the water puddling on the kitchen counter.
“I’m a nurse. I start at the hospital tomorrow in the cardio wing. I can’t leave on my first day to get here to babysit a plumber, all because the owner of this building doesn’t provide taps in good working order,” I smart, not able to help it. I am tired, wet, hungry, frustrated, and really, really don’t want to get lumped with a maintenance bill in this place.
“The building owner is actually a nice guy,” he grits out, and clearly, I hit a nerve. His jaw is tight, his hands a little white-knuckled as they move around the countertop. Perhaps they are friends, although I find it hard to see how a maintenance man, no doubt on minimum wage, could be friends with a gazillionaire or whomever owns this obscenely elegant building.
“I can be here early before you leave for work and stay while he checks it out. We can see if we can have something sorted by the time your shift finishes,” he offers, and I sigh. I don’t want to leave my apartment in his care. I feel like it is my personal space, not for his eyes. Not without me here, anyway. I also don’t like depending on people. History shows they always let me down. But… I know he is doing me a favor. This guy doesn’t even have to be here to help me mop up the mess. But he is, and I know the only way to get this fixed is to give Eddie access to my apartment. Rock, meet hard place.
“I don’t know…” I say, looking at him, wondering if I can trust him, which is a stupid thought. I already know that I shouldn’t be trusting anyone. Let alone a man I just met.
“I get it. You just moved here solo, so you are obviously independent. It takes a lot of guts to move on your own, where you don’t know many people. But I will let you know that I have had a full police check and security clearance to work here, and your apartment will be safe with me.” He smiles, and damn, he really is too pretty for his own good.
Now that the stress of the situation has settled, he seems like a genuinely good guy. He is working on a weekend, so he is obviously dedicated to his job and has a strong work ethic. Or he needs the paycheck just as much as I do. Besides, I have nothing of value here for him to steal, and the apartment isn’t even mine… so it doesn’t really matter.
“Fine. Okay. Um… thank you,” I mutter my appreciation and offer him a small smile. I haven’t had anyone be this nice to me ever. And for no reason. For a situation like this, it’s working out perfectly. And to my surprise, I feel a strange sense of ease.
But with the life I have lived, I know nothing is ever perfect. So I reserve my judgment on my current good luck and push any happiness down. I can’t go thinking my life is changing. My past will always catch up to me.
