The Reason

by Jen Andrews

  My obsession for the last few years was the band Snow Patrol. I was a sucker for creative and meaningful lyrics, and their songs were full of them. I was seriously addicted to their music and played it daily. Music was the only thing that kept me from going deeper into despair.

  Waking with a start, and a very sore neck, on the couch late Saturday morning, I realized I forgot to wash all the towels and bedding we had bought for Andy’s apartment. After spending Thanksgiving Day with my entire family, I went back to the shop’s apartment and continued painting. By Friday night, I had the apartment painted and all the furniture arranged where I wanted it. I was dead tired from working full time and working on the apartment, so I had gone home and treated myself to a bottle of wine as I relaxed on my couch.

  Of all the freaking places for me to fall asleep, and actually sleep through the entire night, it was on my damn couch!

  Note to self: do not drink an entire bottle of wine when you need to get up early the next day.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I grumbled aloud as I hurried down the hallway to the laundry room.

  Andy was supposed to arrive later that night, and I wanted to get everything done in his apartment, so I would be gone before he arrived. I wanted to get back home and wallow in my own self-pity for the rest of the weekend. I really, really needed a vacation, or to get laid, as Jess and Sasha liked to tell me. ‘Cause that worked out so well the last time.

  It had been several months since I’d even dated anyone, let alone had sex. I actually dated someone for a few months after Rob and I split, but it didn’t work out. I don’t even know why I bothered taking my birth control anymore. However, it did have other qualities I liked, and I just hadn’t stopped taking it.

  Maybe I needed a nice one-night stand. On second thought, that hadn’t worked out so well for me either, and had happened clear back in high school…and landed me in therapy.

  Yep, I’m awesome. Not.

  Once I dumped the towels in the washer, I hopped into the shower under the hottest water I could stand to try to ease the kink in my neck from falling asleep on the couch. When I was finished with my shower, I dressed in some old jeans, a James Racing T-shirt, and my favorite pair of black low-top Converse shoes. My beloved Chucks. I kept, and still wore them, because they were my first-ever new pair of shoes and held great sentimental value to me.

  By the time I choked down two brown sugar and cinnamon Pop-Tarts, the towels were ready to go into the dryer. It was already twelve-thirty, and I still needed to go check out the apartment to make sure everything was perfect. I transferred the towels to the dryer, and then tossed the sheets from the bedding set into the washer.

  Luckily, I remembered to grab my iPod and my ear buds, so I at least had music to listen to instead of silence since I’d already brought my iPod dock home from the apartment. I packed all my cleaning supplies and strolled across the parking lot to the other apartment.

  As soon as I walked through the door, I put my ear buds in my ears and cranked up one of my many playlists. I picked one with lots of upbeat music to keep me motivated, and then shoved my iPod into my back pocket.

  Because I was a bit of a neat freak, I checked out the entire apartment to make sure it was spotless. It looked nice for the most part, but I decided to give the bathroom another good cleaning. Dirty bathrooms grossed me out, and I forgot to clean the bathtub and shower when I cleaned the first time. I sprayed the shower wall and tub with some cleaner to let it soak in for a while.

  After I re-cleaned the rest of the bathroom, I went in and rechecked the kitchen. The kitchen was spotless, so I headed back to the bathroom and scrubbed the shower wall. Once the tub was finished, I was out of there. Fortunately, the kink in my neck had worked itself out from all the scrubbing I’d done, and I was in a good mood.

  Getting down on my hands and knees, I started on the bathtub. “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga came on, so I sang along out loud.

  As I scrubbed the floor of the tub to the beat of the music, the bathroom light went off and immediately came back on. What the fuck? I froze mid-scrub and could feel someone behind me. My heartbeat quickened in my chest and the air suddenly felt thick. I was scared to turn around, but what choice did I have?

  Slowly, I turned around to face the door, and there stood the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. He was leaning against the doorjamb with a huge grin on his face. His grin lasted about two seconds, and then a strange look washed over his face. His brows furrowed and he swallowed hard as he stared at me.

  What is that all about?

  As a wave of a panic came over me, I jerked the ear buds out of my ears. There was no way out of the bathroom, except past him.

  Sure, he was sexy as hell, but I read that Ted Bundy was too, and he was a fucking serial killer! Plus, that weird change in his demeanor kind of freaked me out. He still stood in the doorway, staring at me with that same look on his face. It didn’t appear that he was going to say anything, so I needed to do something.

  “Who are you, and how’d you get in here?” I stammered, not knowing what else to say.

  My heart thumped faster. I was positive that I had locked the door behind me when I came into the apartment. I realized then that he was holding a moving box. He blinked a few times, shook his head, and snapped out of his little trance. He smiled, and it somehow made me feel less threatened.

  “I’m Andy,” he said politely, with a very sexy accent. “And you are?”

  He stared at me curiously again, and I wondered if there was something on my face, or if I’d sprouted horns since morning.

  Holy shit, he is sexy. He had gorgeous golden skin, amazing blue eyes, and he wore his short, dark blond hair a little longer on the top. He was tall, too, at least six foot two or three. And the beard! Oh my. Well, it wasn’t really a beard, but more like a sexy stubble that was just long enough to be soft.

  When I stood, I took a quick peek in the mirror over the sink and walked toward him. There was nothing on my face and no horns on my head. Thank God.

  “Hi, Andy, I’m Zoey James. My dad is Doug, the owner of James Racing.”

  Duh, Zoey. He knows who your dad is. Chill the fuck out.

  Like an idiot, I held my hand out to shake his, not realizing I was still wearing hideous yellow rubber cleaning gloves. I quickly pulled my right glove off as he extended his hand out to me. It was warm and rough to the touch as he gently squeezed my hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Zoey. I’m sorry about turning the light off on you. I tried getting your attention, but you didn’t hear me when I said hello. I didn’t know how else to get your attention without scaring you.”

  Did I mention his accent was very sexy? I felt my face flush, and suddenly the bathroom seemed too small. Why is he still holding on to my hand?

  “Sorry, I thought I’d be done in here and gone by the time you arrived,” I said. He finally released my hand as I squeezed past him and into the hallway. “I’m almost finished.” Damn, he smells good.

  Everything felt weird with him in the apartment. I don’t know what felt weird, exactly…but something was definitely going on. Maybe the fumes from the bathtub cleaner had gotten to me. I should have opened the window while I was in there. Fuck, I’m probably high as a kite right now and don’t even know it!

  Andy followed me to the living room and set his box down on the floor by the couch.

  “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little early. It didn’t take me as long to pack my truck and trailer as I thought it would. I called your dad, and he told me he would let you know I would be here a few hours earlier.”

  I felt my back pockets and found only my iPod. I had left my cell phone at home. “Looks like I forgot my phone. Let me finish the tub, and I’ll get out of your way.”

  He grinned again, his blue eyes literally freaking sparkling with amusement. Crap, I can look at him all day long.

  “You’re not in my way at all,” he said with a slight smile easing over his face. “It’s nice to hav
e someone to talk to after being on the road alone for the day. Your dad says you live nearby, is that right?”

  “I do. I live right across the way, in the brick building.” I pointed in the direction of my apartment.

  Seriously? Can he be any sexier? Good Lord, Zoey, you act as if you’ve never seen a nice looking man before. Okay, well I’d seen nice looking men before, but not one who looked like he stepped right off of a runway.

  He was beautiful, sexy, and rugged. Masculine. God-like.

  Shut up now, Zoey. Jesus Christ, what is wrong with my brain all of a sudden? I’ve gone mad!

  His nose was a tiny bit crooked and had a noticeable scar across the bridge. It honestly made him sexier. Oh, I forgot manly too. He was wearing a black jacket, a dark gray T-shirt with some type of design on it, and perfectly fitted jeans, not too tight, and not too loose.

  I continued my observation, and when my eyes found his feet, I noticed he wasn’t wearing any shoes. “What happened to your shoes?”

  He looked down at his feet and laughed. “They’re by the front door. Kiwis don’t normally wear shoes inside their homes.”

  Yeah, I had no idea what that meant. “Kiwis?” I asked, obviously thinking of the fruit. He chuckled. He probably knew I was thinking of fruit, too.

  “New Zealanders refer to themselves as Kiwis,” he clarified.

  “I think I’ve actually heard that before, now that you mention it,” I admitted.

  Good Christ, he is perfect. He’s probably a dick, though. Men that good looking always were. At least, in my experience they were. Although, he didn’t seem like a dick, so I guess my rule contradicted itself.

  Yep, I’ve lost my damn mind, and I’m making no sense. I needed to leave.

  “I’ll finish what I was doing while you bring in your boxes, and then I’ll come give you a hand. I need to go to my place and get some things for you, too,” I said, feeling my face flush.

  He cracked a flawless smile again. “I can’t believe how great the place looks, Zoey. Your dad told me it was a simple apartment with some hand-me-down furniture. I didn’t realize it was going to be this nice. All the paint and furniture is great. I can’t thank your family enough. I’m happy for the job, and the fact that there was an apartment to rent, too, made this a lot easier for me since I didn’t have any time to look for a place to live.”

  His accent and deep voice literally rendered me speechless. I could sit and listen to him talk all day long. I needed to get the hell out of there, stat!

  “Well, go get the tub finished,” he said as I stood there, no doubt drooling while I listened to him speak. “I’ll pack in some more boxes.” He moved toward me, and it broke my train of thought.

  “Okay then, sounds good. And you’re welcome…for everything.” I smiled at him nervously, and then turned to go back to the bathroom.

  Finishing with the tub in record time, I packed up all my cleaning supplies and was about to head out the door when Andy walked in. He had put his shoes back on, and I saw they were a worn pair of black Chucks. He was also carrying a guitar case.

  “You play guitar?” I asked him, and he nodded. Fuck me. Why was it so hard to keep my damn mouth shut? “I play too,” I blurted out stupidly. Holy crap, Zoey. Shut. The. Hell. Up.

  He smiled at me in surprise and did this sexy eyebrow-raising thing. “Really? What kind of music do you play?”

  Run, Zoey. Run for the hills! “I play acoustic, too, but not very well. I learn to play whatever songs I feel like singing,” I admitted shyly. “I’m slightly obsessed with Snow Patrol right now, so I’ve learned to play a few of their songs.”

  Shut the fuck up, Zoey! I snapped my lips shut, hoping they would stay that way. I bit down on the insides of them, just to make sure. I would make them fucking bleed if I had to, as long as they stayed closed.

  “You have?” Andy asked, and his gorgeous blue eyes sparkled with intrigue. “I like them too and can play some of their songs. I also have an electric guitar.”

  Hmmm, what a nice coincidence. He likes Snow Patrol.

  “This is the last of my boxes,” he noted. “I’m hungry. Will you go get something to eat with me?”

  “Um, sure,” I responded hesitantly. I didn’t want to be rude to my new neighbor and coworker. “I need to head over to my place and change. Why don’t you come with me, and we can get your towels and bedding from my laundry room.”

  Deep shit, Zoey… Deep. Fucking. Shit. I’ve gone from running for the hills to having dinner with him, all within an hour.

  Fucking awesome.

  Andy locked the door of his new apartment and walked with me to my place. We went upstairs, and he kicked off his shoes right inside the door. I secretly smiled about the habit of his. He followed me down the hall to the laundry room. The towels were dry, so I started to fold them.

  “Let me do that so you can go change,” he said. “It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for me.”

  I thanked him and hurried to my bathroom to clean myself up a bit. Once I ran a brush through my hair, I changed into a nice shirt and jeans. To finish off my outfit, I pulled on my favorite knee-high brown leather boots and brown leather jacket.

  When I stepped back into the laundry room, Andy had already finished folding the towels and was putting his sheets in the dryer. “Did you pick this out, too, Zoey?” he asked, motioning to his stack of neatly folded towels.

  I loved the way my name sounded with that accent of his. “Yes, I did. Do you like everything?”

  “Yes, thank you. I can’t believe you did all this for me. Everything you chose, I would have probably picked for myself if I’d done the shopping.” He chuckled as he tossed in a dryer sheet and shut the dryer door. He even cleaned the lint trap before he pressed the start button.

  “I’m starving, let’s go eat!” He smiled as he gripped my shoulders, spun me around, and gave me a little shove out the door.

  “I’ll drive,” I said with a laugh. He put his hands back on my shoulders and playfully propelled me down the hallway toward the front door. “Remind me never to stand in the way of you and food, okay?”

  Andy let out a deep, hearty laugh. “Smart woman,” he teased.

  “An Audi, huh?” Andy asked as we arrived at my car. “I figured you’d be driving an old hot rod Chevy or something, since your family owns a drag racing business.”

  He didn’t have any idea how close to home he’d hit with his comment. He opened my car door for me and waited until I sat down.

  “I had one until about six months ago. Now, I only have my Audi. Let’s go eat,” I urged, trying to change the subject. “I don’t want you to starve to death.”

  He closed my door, went around to the other side of the car, and dropped onto the passenger seat. He immediately pushed the seat all the way back because he was so tall. We talked for a few minutes about what to eat before we decided on going to my favorite steak house.

  Nearing the door of the restaurant, Andy took a couple of long strides ahead of me and pulled the door open for me. He has such good manners and is so polite. As I walked through the door ahead of him, I caught the faint scent of his cologne again. It was a scent I loved and recognized from those scented cologne ads in the magazines we had in our customer lounge.

  Plus, I was able to drool over Paul Walker’s picture in the ads. I was a big fan of The Fast and the Furious movies.

  Andy’s warm hand rested on the small of my back as we entered the restaurant. Somehow, it made it under the back of my jacket, so there was only the thin layer of cotton from my shirt between us. My stomach fluttered at his light touch, and I felt my face flush again. Holy crap!

  The hostess led us to a small table, handed us menus, and took our drink orders. “What’s good to eat here?” Andy asked while looking over his menu.

  “I normally get the house special steak with a salad and baked potato.”

  “Ah, a woman that eats and doesn’t order only a salad. How refreshing,” he stated.
“I think I’ll get that too.”

  The server came and took our orders, and then left us with more time to chat while we waited for our food.

  “So, you’re from New Zealand? What brought you to America?” I asked curiously.

  “I moved here with my aunt and uncle when I was seventeen. They took me in after my parents and sister were killed in a car accident,” he said, and a slight look of sadness fell over his face.

  Oh my God. That’s horrible.

  The server arrived with our salads and a basket of bread. After she left, I gazed into his beautiful blue eyes. “I’m so sorry, Andy. I didn’t know. Were you with them when it happened?”

  “Yeah, we were in our car, and a truck came across the lane toward us at an angle. It hit the front driver side. They were killed instantly, but I was in the back seat on the passenger side, so I was the furthest away from the impact.”

  He motioned with his hands showing me how the cars had hit each other, so it was easy to understand what happened and how he survived the crash.

  Poor guy. I felt the urge to scoot closer to him and hug him. But I didn’t.

  “I don’t remember much of what happened, honestly. I was in the hospital for about a week after the accident. The medics were surprised to find me alive in the car after they arrived at the accident site, from what they told me. The glass from the windows cut my face, and I had minor internal injuries. My collarbone was my only broken bone.”

  He pinched his nose, right where the scar was, then ran his long, broad fingers across the stubble on his jawline. “I actually quit shaving to cover a couple scars,” he disclosed as he glanced over at me. “They’re faint now, but I’m so used to it I decided to keep it.”

  Unable to stop myself, I reached out and put my hand on his to comfort him. “Andy, I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about this anymore if you don’t want to.”