“Well, then, welcome home to you, too,” I say, determined not to let our neighborly relationship get any more awkward.
He glances down at the steering wheel, unimpressed with my attempt at easing the tension. “Don’t you want to know what Cora said about you?”
I open the car door and slide out of the truck, letting out a small grunt as I land on the pavement. “Nope. I think I’ll let Cora tell me herself. Goodnight….”
“Adam,” he says. “I’ll tell you my last name at lunch.”
I slam the truck door and stomp off toward my front door, which is less than a hundred feet away, right beneath Adam’s front door. I’m a few feet away from the door when I hear his truck door slam shut. He’s not chasing after me. For some reason I’m both relieved and disappointed by this.
I turn the key in the lock and quickly slip inside before he can reach the staircase leading to his apartment. I slam the front door shut and let out a deep sigh as I lean back against the cool surface of the door. The apartment is stiflingly hot and smells like the day-old muffins I brought home from work this afternoon, but it feels safe.
The knock on the door startles me and I immediately go into defensive-mode. Who the hell does this guy think he is, almost running me over, assuming we’re going on a lunch date, then knocking on my door at nearly one a.m.?
I yank open the door, ready to rip him apart, when I see my purse dangling from his finger. I grab it and I’m about to slam the door before I remember Cora. She would be devastated if she knew her new tenant and I were already on bad terms.
Cora’s husband died six years ago and her family lives almost three thousand miles away in Idaho. She never leaves the house and her caregiver is a bit standoffish, so her tenants are all she has. The single mom who lived upstairs got remarried and moved out right before I moved in. The upstairs apartment has been empty for four months. Cora must be ecstatic to have a new tenant and some extra income. And I’m ecstatic I won’t have to catch her eating cat food straight from the can anymore.
“Thanks,” I mutter as he grips the doorway and leans into my personal space, but I hold my ground even though he’s making me more uncomfortable than I felt at the party.
“You’re welcome, Claire. Can I come in?”
A gust of laughter escapes my lips as I take a step back. “Does that usually work for you?”
He shrugs. “Usually, yes, it does.”
“No, you can’t come in. I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Adam.”
I push the door closed and he sticks his foot on the threshold to stop it. “I’ll be back at two o’clock to take you to lunch. Is that late enough or do you plan on sleeping all afternoon?”
“Goodnight, Adam.” You persistent, sexy little shit!
I push the door closed and immediately lock the deadbolt. Snatching a bottle of cold water out of the fridge, I drink half of it before I change into an oversized t-shirt and slide under my comforter. I stare at the ceiling for a moment before another memory plays out in front of me like a home movie.
Chris sets my backpack down on the floor in a plain bedroom with a teddy bear wallpaper border. I’m used to sleeping in bedrooms decorated like a toddler’s playroom so I don’t even flinch.
“My mom wouldn’t let me take that stupid border down,” he says, lifting his chin toward the ceiling as he digs his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
That’s when I see the thin nose ring that dangles from his septum.
“I don’t care about the wallpaper. I just want to go to sleep.”
His lip quirks up in confusion. “It’s three o’clock.”
“I haven’t slept. I got kicked out last night and I spent the night at the police station. I refuse to sleep in the presence of strangers.”
“Afraid someone will shank you in your sleep?”
He smiles and I notice another piercing in his tongue. This guy thinks he’s so fucking cool.
“I’m not having sex with you,” I declare.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I see the way you’re looking at me.”
“Yeah, all right. I guess I’ll let you sleep and maybe when you wake up you’ll chill the fuck out and realize that just because someone’s nice to you it doesn’t mean they want to fuck you.”
The shadows on the ceiling blur into darkness. I grab my cell phone and the eye mask from my nightstand, power off the phone, and slide the mask over my head so it rests on my forehead.
I never set my alarm when I’m not working. I cherish the days I get to sleep in. If someone created a religion dedicated to celebrating sleep, I would be the first congregant.