“Two.”
“You and me?”
“That’s about it, yeah.”
I couldn’t help but tilt my head to the side, eyes narrowed in disbelief. “You’re an Adele fan?”
He shrugged. “Who doesn’t like Adele?”
“I just can’t see you sitting at one of her concerts, is all.”
“You will if you come with me tonight.” He sipped his amber liquor, unable to keep the smile from his lips. Damn, he was smooth. I had walked right into that one.
“Can I ask a serious question and can you answer honestly?”
He nodded.
“Do I owe you anything for this?”
His eyes narrowed. “Do I come off like the sort of guy who expects something from a woman when he’s just trying to do something nice?”
“No.”
“Why do I feel like you’re lying?”
He shook his head with disgust and actually started closing his door.
I threw myself against the wood to keep him from shutting it. “All right, all right. Maybe I’m jaded,” I admitted, wanting to go slice my throat.
“Jaded. Yes, I know how that feels,” he said, but his eyes had lost their twinkle. He was happy when he opened the door and I went and spoiled it.
“I’m just a blundering fool. Don’t take it personally, please,” I said.
Just to rake me over the coals he took his time while he appeared to think it over. Then he opened the door wider and I almost fell through it. “I guess I can be a nice guy and, you know, put myself in your shoes.”
I straightened. “Thanks so much. You’re a real sweetheart.”
“What can I say?”
I grinned up at him. I was already in a different place. I was thinking of watching Adele sing live. “What time should I be ready?”
24
Max
I was still grinning like a dope as I closed the door.
I knew Mimi liked Adele because I’d heard an Adele track playing the last time I was in her apartment. Buying the tickets were a safe bet. Even if she had refused, I’d have had no trouble passing them on to someone else. Most people liked Adele.
Except for me.
I didn’t hate her. I just didn’t have any strong feelings either way. Commercial music was designed to pander to the lowest common dominator: basically, catchy jingles and trash. Give me a good rendition of Carmina Burana any day.
I finished my drink and went into the shower. I felt good enough to sing.
If any of my buddies knew what I was doing—basically wooing a girl—they would laugh themselves silly. Couldn’t blame them either. If anyone had told me a couple of weeks earlier I’d be sitting through an Adele concert to get into a girl’s pants, I would’ve said someone made chili soup out of his brain.
We were talking about me, after all. Maximus Black. The guy who was allergic to the word relationship. How strange that ever since that day she came to my apartment, I’d found myself doing things that were completely out of character.
I mean, what the fuck? Pretending we were together to help her out. Who was I? Mother Teresa? It was all kinds of crazy, but when I saw that asshole and his crowing girlfriend gang up on her, I couldn’t stop myself. No one was bullying her while I was around. She needed somebody to look after her and I was that guy.
If any other woman had pulled that stunt she did with the laxative…she’d be using her tears as lube. But with Mimi, I was putty. I just became more and more intrigued.
Underneath the feisty exterior, she was an innocent sweetheart. She would probably claw and spit at my face if she knew I thought of her that way. She wanted to be a badass, but she was soft at her core. The city hadn’t ruined or hardened her. She was the opposite of Bridget and her brigade. They pretended to be helpless on the outside. Inside they were pure steel.
I didn’t know why the hell she had that effect on me. What was it about her that made me want to keep trying to get closer? Was it because she seemed to want to stay clear of a relationship with me? Whatever the reason, all I wanted to do was grab her and kiss that plush mouth.
I guess I always had a thing for Mimi, but I resisted it firmly. After I found her shit-faced and slumped on the front steps there was no denying the attraction.
She could pretend all she wanted, but I knew she wanted me too. Hell, it took two people to make out. The way she sucked on my tongue as if it was made from sugar. Fuck, I’d been dangerously close to losing control. I would’ve kept going if we hadn’t been interrupted. It wouldn’t have taken anything to lift her up, carry her to the bedroom, and spread her legs open. Even thinking about it now, was giving me a hard-on. I looked down at the raging erection I was sporting. Yeah, there was something about her that got to me.
I’d already been to the gym for a good workout, so I felt pumped and ready for a good night out. It was only a matter of time before I took what was mine. I grinned to myself as I buttoned up the black shirt I’d chosen, then tucked it into my gray slacks.
I knocked on her door at seven sharp. The door opened almost immediately and I had to fucking catch my breath. A simple black dress poured over her generous curves like water. Her long hair hung over one shoulder, curled just a little.
“We match,” she whispered shyly.
I found my breath. “No. You’re way out of my league. There’s no matching you.”
She blushed and looked away. I stared in amazement. It was amazing how effortlessly beautiful she was. I wondered if she had any idea. She couldn’t possibly not know she was irresistible. Smoking hot body. Big, blue eyes. Full ripe mouth. I could already see my cock disappearing into it.
“Did you call us a cab?” she asked as we walked to the elevator.
“Why would I call us a cab?”
She frowned. “I hope we can find one in time.”
“Just because we’re not taking a cab doesn’t mean I didn’t secure transportation. This isn’t my first rodeo.”
Her lips curved and my cock twitched.
“It’s not? Do you have a whole stockpile of concert tickets lying around? Is this part of your normal routine?”
I touched her mouth. Something inside me broke. Hell, she had me on the hook. “Nothing about you is normal.”
Her lips parted on a soundless gasp. I took my hand away and she chewed on her bottom lip.
She was like a little girl in a sweet shop inside the limo. I poured champagne into her glass and she insisted on clinking glasses. It was so sweet and old-fashioned. We drank to a great night. She’d never been in a limo, and I was glad to be the first one to give her a ride in one.
I watched her in awe. The curve of her cheek, the color in them, her curving mouth. Her skin glowed and my heart swelled with something unfamiliar.
At the concert she sang every song, cheering, clapping and whooping for three hours. I didn’t have to pretend to enjoy it since I’d already confessed Adele was not really my thing. What she didn’t know was, I enjoyed the show more than her. I couldn’t help but smile through the whole show. It was starring Mimi Young.
The real kicker, the big deal, came after the concert. It was the kiss I left on her upturned cheek after I walked her to her door. I heard her sigh just a little, then I turned and walked away. It killed me to do it, but when I was a kid in short pants, my granddad said, “Always leave ‘em wanting more, boy.”
“Thanks, Grandad.”
25
Mimi
I couldn’t stop thinking about Max all day Wednesday and on Thursday. I actually thought I was becoming obsessed with him. I knew I had to stop or I would end up a basket case. Megan called me up on Friday afternoon to see if I wanted to grab dinner with her. I nearly bit her head off in my eagerness to agree. It was a welcome distraction.
The problem was she wanted to talk about Max and the engagement party. She leaned toward me from across the table.
“So, do you know what you’re gonna wear?”
“I have no idea. I�
��ll have to dig way back in the closet to find something suitable.”
She frowned. “Hang on a sec. You said this is at the St. Regis, right?”
“Yeah. So?” I dug into the bread basket. I was never again making the mistake of drinking on an empty stomach. Bread served in baskets in restaurants was always my greatest weakness. How could it not be? Bleached white flour. It couldn’t even pretend to be anything but bad.
“So,” she said sternly, “it’s probably a pretty swanky event. No offense, but do you have anything that’ll hold up?”
I rolled my eyes. “Gee, no offense taken.”
“I mean it,” she said seriously.
“I know you do. I have a few nice things, but they’re more like ‘work party’ outfits.”
“Right. And Josh will already have seen you in both of them.” Megan twirled her red curls absentmindedly as she mused.
“Uh, I don’t care if he saw me in them. Besides, he’s one of the most oblivious people I know so I doubt he’ll remember any of my outfits and he’ll probably be gazing adoringly at Glamazon to notice.”
“Okay, all right. Forget him and what he thinks.” She took a sip of her wine, eyeing me up. “What about Max?”
“What about him?” I suddenly became very interested in the menu, even though that was our favorite little Italian restaurant and I could have recited the menu by heart.
“Mm-hmm. I thought so.”
“You thought what?” I demanded. “Please, tell me some more about what’s going on in my head.”
“Why don’t you stop kidding yourself, Mimi?” She sat back in her chair and smiled. “You were a total swooning fangirl after the concert.”
“Yeah, for Adele.”
She laughed. “Adele’s not the one who wooed you with champagne and a limo ride. She didn’t kiss you on the cheek outside your apartment door, make your toes curl, then walk away and leave you gasping for more.”
I blushed, looking around again. “Could you not say such things so loud in public? Please?”
“I’m sorry, but you know it’s true. What’s wrong with wanting to look nice for him?”
I sighed, playing with my water glass. I couldn’t describe how I felt, exactly. “I thought Josh was a trustworthy guy,” I finally murmured, still staring into my glass. “I was so wrong. How can I even consider going out with a commitment-phobe like Max? He goes through women like other people go through tissues. One use and he discards them. I don’t think I can bear to be discarded just now. My pride is already in tatters.”
“Fine, then.” She folded her hands, a stern expression settling over her face. “Don’t do it for Max or Josh. Do it for you. You deserve to walk into that party feeling gorgeous and fabulous and strong.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I realized she was right. It wasn’t about either of them. It was about me showing up there and letting Lillian and Josh know they didn’t break me. If she wanted to play games, I’d show her I wouldn’t sink to her level. I could be classy and graceful and tasteful.
Megan took my silence for acceptance. “So. When are we going shopping?”
26
Mimi
The next time I saw Max was Monday evening when we literally ran into each other. He looked surprised, which told me he hadn’t planned it. He approached our front steps from one direction while I came from the other. I wished the ground would open up and swallow me because I was a sweaty mess. He really didn’t need to see me in such a state.
Then again, he was sweaty, too.
The difference was he looked sexy. Why was this man so gorgeous? I wondered if there was a single situation in which he wouldn’t look like a million bucks. I usually didn’t go for guys who had just been out running. Where was the appeal? A sweaty man was a sweaty man. But Max looked good enough to eat, even when the front of his long-sleeved tee was soaked and he was out of breath.
The first thing that came to mind was the thought of him being sweaty and out of breath in bed. Damn hormones, trying to get me in trouble.
“You’re a runner?” he asked, taking off his headset.
I shook my head. “Only when I feel like punishing myself.” He didn’t need to know I was doing all the last-minute working out so that I could to tighten up before the party.
He chuckled. “Come on. Exercise isn’t punishment.”
“So, you actually like running?” I asked, cocking one eyebrow.
“Hell, no. I hate it. But all the cool kids are doing it.”
I had to laugh because he was right on some level. It seemed like all my friends were runners, even Megan. “Why do you think that is?” I asked as we climbed the stairs together.
“It’s the ‘in’ thing to do. Like organic food, coconut water, green juice”
“Well, I’m not really an ‘in thing’ kind of person. I may never run another step unless it’s to chase the delivery guy if he forgets part of my order.”
He laughed as we got on the elevator. “I think you have the right idea.”
I checked him out when he wasn’t looking. If running was what gave him that body, I would never discourage him. I couldn’t help but admire his thick, toned legs, his firm butt, his broad shoulders, the way I would admire a work of art. And that was all it was, sheer admiration. Just observing and admiring and not fantasizing at all.
I grinned. “I don’t like running, but I do like my coconut water. I have a bunch in my fridge. It’s one of the best things to drink if you want to hydrate naturally and boy, I sound like a commercial.”
He was kind enough to hide his smile. “I’m sold. I’ll buy a case.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet. But seriously, do you want one?”
“Yeah, I’ll come over for coconut water.” He spoke slowly, quietly. His eyes seemed to bore into me. My skin got all tingly. My skin must be so red.
“I hope you don’t think this is, like, a thinly-veiled attempt at seduction,” I babbled. Oh, God, Mimi. Shut your dumb mouth. Too late. I had already blurted the whole damn thing out.
He blinked, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Wow.”
“I’m sorry…”
“No, don’t be. Wow.” He stepped off the elevator, then leaned against the wall. “Not a seduction attempt. And there I was, thinking coconut water was code for something else.”
“Could you not, please?” My cheeks burned with the heat of a thousand suns.
“No, really. This is a big moment for me. I never thought of coconut water was an aphrodisiac until this moment.”
“I really don’t fancy going to prison for killing you.”
He grinned. “I’m just disappointed, is all.”
“Shut up. I’m going home.”
“So, no coconut water?”
I turned around, starting down the hall. “If you really want some…”
He chuckled. “Oh, I want some.”
“Coconut water, damn it.”
“I know. I really like it. It’s my favorite.”
I bit my lip hard to keep from laughing as he followed me to my front door. “I have half a mind to tell you to get your own coconut water.”
“I could get my own, but I bet yours is better.”
I opened my door, holding it open for him against my better judgment. “Careful, or you’ll end up drinking it alone.”
“Got it.” He followed me inside, and I saw him looking around. “This is nice.”
I sighed. “Nice is another word for small.”
“Big is overrated. It’s how you use it.”
I thought of myself straddling him and how big and thick he would be under me. “Are we still talking about apartments?”
He smiled slowly. “What do you think?”
Something was happening inside me. “Do you still want that coconut water?”
“Yeah, I do. I came all this way and everything.”
I giggled to myself as I pulled two cartons from the fridge, then checked out my reflection in the microwave doo
r before going back to the living room. Not, too bad. Not too bad at all. I found him sitting at the piano.
“Do you play?” I asked, handing him a carton.
“Not a note,” he admitted. “I was admiring the piano itself. It’s beautiful. Not to sound ancient or anything, but they don’t make them like this anymore.” He ran his hands over the keys—gently, soundlessly—then closed the lid. “It’s really nice.”
“Thanks. It was my grandmother’s.”
“Oh, really? You hauled it all the way up here?”
“Whoever hauled it up here did it when she first moved in,” I corrected.
“This was her apartment?”
I nodded, looking around. “This was hers. Sort of my second home when I was growing up. She moved here after my grandfather died. He was still young. Hit by a car on his way out of the office one day.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It was really hard for her, even though my mom and aunt were grown up. Their house was too big for her to live in on her own, so she sold it and bought this place.”
“And she gave it to you?” He rested his hands on the piano lid. “Along with this?”
I nodded again. “It’s sort of all I have to my name, in a way. Actually, more than in a way. It’s all I have.”
He opened his coconut water and took a long gulp. I had to laugh at the way he grimaced. “I fucking hate coconut water,” he admitted, shaking his head.
“No kidding? You hide it so well.”
“I keep telling myself I’m wrong about it since so many people like it. I have to be the one who’s wrong if it’s so popular.”
“I feel that way about kale,” I admitted.
“Oh, my God! I hate kale!”
“I know! It’s disgusting.”
“I thought it was just me.”
“Me, too.”
“So we’ve both been running and eating kale and drinking coconut water even though we don’t like it.”
“I actually like coconut water,” I reminded him.
Dear Neighbor Page 8
