"You too," he calls just as the doors close.
The elevator rises and I suddenly feel nervous. This isn't a date or anything, so I have no idea why.
As soon as the elevator doors open, I suddenly know why.
And his name is Nick.
As always when I first look at him, I get a little flutter in the pit of my stomach, and my skin tingles. This time though the sight of him causes my breath to hiccup and stick in my throat.
With his thick, dark hair and great body, he's standing at the edge of the stairs that lead to his living room with a glass of wine in each hand. He's showered, I can tell by the wet ends of his hair. He's wearing track pants and a t-shirt. And he looks really sexy.
Just behind him is Max, who is on the couch in his pajamas with wet hair too. He's eating pizza and watching television.
"Hi," I wave, setting the overnight bag down.
"Hi," he says back, stopping mid-step.
"Sorry it took me so long," I blurt out, my nerves still aflutter.
Nick's gaze burns over me from head to toe. "You look fantastic, so don't apologize. And besides, the pizza arrived less than five minutes ago."
Good, I'm glad I picked out what I did to wear. I'd hoped it wasn't too much, but by the twinkle in Nick's eyes, I'd say it is just right. "Thank you," I tell him, and I can't stop the shiver that runs down my spine as our gazes hold.
Nick seems to break out of his daze and continues striding toward me. First he hands me a glass of wine. "For you."
I accept it. "Thank you."
And then he leans over and kisses me. Max's back is too us, but still I'm surprised by the gesture, and a heated rush takes my breath away.
The kiss, although intense, is short, and soon he pulls away. "How about a quick tour before dinner?"
I take a sip of my wine, wondering if my beating heart will continue to thump at this elevated pace all night. "Sounds great. Let me just say hi to Max."
Nick nods and picks up the bag I brought.
On shaky legs, I walk toward the little tyke, who completely ignores me because he is too caught up in television show.
While in the living room, I take a minute to look around. Everything is warm and inviting in dark woods offset by light colored walls and furniture. The walls are covered in architectural-like prints. They look to be buildings, both old and new, throughout Chicago. His place looks more like a home than a bachelor pad. Drawn to the view, I walk over to the wall of windows. "I love your view."
Nick is behind me now, and his warm breath caresses the skin of my bare shoulder. "It's not bad."
"You're always so modest," I mock.
He steps a little closer and the back of my legs graze the front of his. "I'm just being honest."
I shake my head.
Nick points a finger out the window, using the opportunity to step even closer. "See that building over there," he says.
With the pitter-patter spasms of my heart something I know I need to get used to, I dart my eyes to where he is directing. "The old abandoned plant?"
"That's the one. I want to buy it from the city and build my first residential living complex."
The excitement in his voice has me looking over my shoulder. "Would you tear it down or renovate it?"
"If at all possible, I'd like to renovate it, but it's in bad shape, so it depends on the building's integrity."
"I've seen you at work. I bet you can do just about anything you put your mind to."
There's a gleam of appreciation in his eyes, and where I thought this would be the point he'd turn cocky, he appears humble. "Thank you, I appreciate the vote of confidence."
I give him a warm smile.
Nick grabs my hand. "Come on, I owe you a tour."
The contact causes arousal to hum low in my belly.
Oh, boy.
But Nick is surprisingly a gentleman as he shows me around his place. There are two bedrooms, two bathrooms, an office, and the living room/kitchen combo. It is luxurious and warm and inviting, and I kind of fall in love with the place.
Back in the living room, Max is now vertical on the sofa, but still entrenched in his television program. After checking on him, Nick leads me toward the kitchen island.
"How long have you lived here?" I ask.
He pulls out a barstool for me to sit. "Four years. I got the place for a steal."
I look at him. "It's really nice."
Before taking a seat himself, he covers his heart with his hand. "Is that two compliments in one night?"
I bite my lip. "Yes, and enjoy it. I don't give many, so your quota is almost up."