by Anna Edwards
Once my breathing becomes easier, and I’m feeling stable enough, I straighten up, and the stranger lets his hand fall from my shoulder.
“Thanks,” I repeat, turning to head up the rest of the steps at the entrance to my building.
Footsteps behind me tell me I’m being followed, and I grit my teeth, wanting space and some fucking privacy. As much as I want to confront the guy who seems to have become my fucking shadow, I don’t say a word and continue to make my way through the front doors.
“What’s your name?” I hear him ask, and I want to roll my eyes because he just won’t quit.
“Will Taylor,” I reply over my shoulder, hoping that he’ll leave me alone now I’ve answered him.
“I’m Drew Spencer,” he tells me, and I turn to face him.
“Look, I’m fine. You seriously don’t need to follow me all the way to my apartment to make sure of that,” I snap, aggravated by the fact he is still following me.
Drew scowls at my harsh response, and I rub the back of my neck, suddenly feeling guilty for being rude.
“I just moved into this building. I’m in apartment thirty-six, and I don’t know anyone here,” he bites back. “Excuse me for fucking trying to give a shit, and maybe make a friend. Nice to meet you neighbor.”
He storms past me up the stairs, leaving me standing in the entrance and feeling like a huge fucking asshole. Thirty-six, fuck. Drew Spencer lives directly opposite number thirty-four, which is my apartment, and I’ve just made a total dick of myself.
Chapter Two
Drew
I don’t know who he thinks he is acting like such an asshole. I don’t need any more of those in my life, spitting out drama. Can’t deny the dude was hot, but he seems to have serious issues. I’m not certain what his problem is, but I sure as shit didn’t deserve the way he spoke to me just then.
“Asshole,” I mumble to myself as I storm up the stairs toward my apartment. I’m new to this small town, but I can already tell it’s going to be a headache living here. If my previous landlord hadn’t been such a dick, I might have had more time to choose where to go. As it was he never warned me he was going to sell the last place I lived in until he evicted me with barely any notice.
Luckily my older sister suggested I use her place here to live in while she’s working abroad. I’ll miss her, but I don’t blame her for jumping at the chance to travel and experience a new country, and I was relieved when she made the offer because I’d no other options.
When I arrive at my floor, I power down the hallway to my apartment. Once inside I kick the door closed and throw myself down onto the couch. I shouldn’t be this upset, but as I just told him, I don’t know anyone here. Fuck him…
Switching on the TV to some mundane bullshit, I let the voices and music coming through the speakers drown out the jumbled thoughts swirling around my head. I close my eyes, lean my head over the back of the couch, and groan. I only wish it were that easy to let it go, but something about Will called out to me, and in spite of our disastrous first meeting, I still wouldn’t mind getting to know him.
Sighing, I shake my head and force myself to focus on the here and now. When my stomach rumbles, I decide the first thing I need to do is take care of the gaping hole that screams for food. Pulling out my phone, I do a quick search for a local Chinese restaurant and place an order for home delivery.
Forty-five minutes later, the doorbell rings, and jumping out of my seat, I rush over to the door. I’m fucking starving. When I pull open the door, I barely see the young delivery girl standing in front of me because Will is entering the apartment opposite mine. Our eyes meet and I can see a glimmer of guilt in his before he twists his face into a scowl. Asshole.
After tipping the girl, I take my food into the apartment and set it down on the table. I’m salivating at the mouth-watering aromas coming from the bags. A foolish part of me is tempted to see if Will wants to come over and share it with me, but I think better of it. I really need to stop this, but I can’t help the bite of loneliness, nipping at my heart.
Will seems… interesting, and I’m struggling to avoid the fact he’s caught my eye. There’s no denying he’s fucking gorgeous even when he’s being a dick. I can’t get him out of my head with his short, wavy, brown hair framing his sharply angled cheekbones and narrow face. Even with the permanent scowl he doesn’t seem to lose, I still wouldn’t mind attempting to crack through his cold exterior to see what makes him tick. There’s something different about him, but I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is.
His furtive behavior earlier as he tried to conceal whatever he had in his hand both intrigued and concerned me, and I want to know what he was hiding. It may not be my place, but I’m not one for standing by if someone needs help, and even though he brushed me off, I’m not so easily cowed.
Ignoring the pangs in my stomach, worsened by the delicious scent of the food on the table, I reluctantly leave my meal behind me and make my way across the hall to Will’s apartment. I knock on the door, and tap my foot while I wait for him to answer.
When he doesn’t come to the door I call out, “Ignore me if you want, I was only going to see if you wanted to have some dinner with me. But if you’re happier being an asshole, then fine, I’ll eat by myself.”
I turn and walk back into my apartment, slamming the door shut behind me before taking a seat at the table. Pulling out a box of Chow Mein, I open the lid and inhale deeply before I grab a pair of chopsticks and dig in. The first bite is like heaven in my mouth and a groan rumbles up my throat as the flavors explode on my tongue. Damn, that’s good.
I pause when the sound of knocking echoes through my apartment. I snatch another mouthful before making my way over to the door and pressing my eye against the peephole. When I see who’s standing on the other side, I let out a breath and feel a smug grin spread across my face. Quickly schooling my expression into one of disinterest, I open the door.
“Can I help you?” I ask coolly, the adjustment to my tone is easy to pull off when I think about how he treated me earlier.
“Um,” he says hesitantly, not meeting my eyes.
“I’d like to apologize for how I acted earlier. I’ve not been myself lately,” he rushes out, embarrassment staining his cheeks a light shade of red.
He’s fucking cute, I’ll give him that, and it makes me wonder what else I could do to bring out that blush. He absolutely deserves to feel guilty for behaving like an asshole. I may very well be acting the exact same way by taking so long to acknowledge his apology, but I feel like I should let him stew for a few moments.
Lowering my gaze, I take advantage of the fact he’s not meeting my stare and use the time to scrutinize him more closely. Gradually I raise my eyes, taking in his average height, lean but toned muscles, and the tattoos peeking out from under his t-shirt that creep down his biceps and across his collarbone. His light brown hair has a just-fucked disarray to it, suggesting he hurriedly pulled on his shirt to come over here.
Will’s eyes flicker up to meet mine, and it’s a struggle not to get sucked into them. Dark brown irises with gold flecks…they’re mesmerizing, and I have to remind myself to exhale because he’s more than just cute... he’s breathtaking. When he realizes I’ve been checking him out, his lips quirk up at one side into a knowing look. Busted.
Chapter Three
Will
When I came to apologize, I wasn’t expecting him to react like this. While it’s strange for me to be looked at with anything other than pity, it’s not an unwelcome feeling to know someone out there finds me interesting enough to look twice. Mentally shaking my head, I take a step back, unsure whether I want him to look any further.
I’ve been ridiculed enough for my condition, and even though like him I could do with a friend, I’m not sure I’m ready to face another rejection and taunts for being weak. I’m not weak.
“So, thanks for the offer of dinner, but I’m going to pass. Night,” I blurt out and dart back into m
y apartment.
Shutting the door behind me, I make my way over to the couch and collapse onto the soft leather, feeling my heart thudding rapidly in my chest. Something about Drew tells me he’s different from the people I grew up with, but I’m still not willing to take the risk he’s not exactly like the rest of them.
My confidence is at an all time low, and it’s been too long since I’ve felt really good about myself or, for that matter, anything else. Shrugging off the unusual feeling sitting in my stomach, I close my eyes and force myself to take deep breaths to bring my heart rate back under control. My chest feels tight, but it’s not the tightness that precedes an attack, so there’s nothing I can do to alleviate it except wait.
When I open my eyes, the apartment is dark. I must have fallen asleep, but as my eyes adjust to the darkness surrounding me, it occurs to me I have no recollection of turning out the lights. The apartment is darker than usual, and that’s when I realize there’s no outside light filtering through the cracks in the curtains, and the familiar hum of the refrigerator is absent. Power outage.
Fumbling in my pocket for my phone, I press the button to light up the screen, but nothing happens.
“For fuck’s sake, of all the times I forget to put it on charge, it had to be tonight,” I curse aloud.
Getting to my feet, I slowly make my way through the apartment. I’ve been living here long enough to find my way around by memory, not that this is a big apartment anyway. I’m halfway to the kitchen to grab candles and matches when I hear a knock at the door. Ignoring it, I continue to make my way to the kitchen.
Feeling around to find the correct drawer, I pull out a small flashlight and press the button to turn it on. A thin beam of light shines from the end, bathing the small room in a faint, yellow glow. The knocking at the door has become more insistent, and the sharp raps echo through the apartment. I roll my eyes… it’s not hard to guess who it is.
With a sigh, I answer the door unsurprised to see Drew standing on the other side, illuminated by my flashlight. When he looks up at my face, I spot something shiny: there’s blood running down his face from a cut near his eye.
“You’re bleeding, what happened?” I query, shining the light directly on his face.
He grimaces and closes his eyes against the glare, but I ignore him, moving closer to take a look.
“Tripped in my apartment when the lights cut out,” he admits. “I hit my head on the coffee table.”
That’s when I notice how unsteady he is. He’s probably still dazed and has concussion. It’s hard to tell whether he looks pale in this light. Looking as if he’s about to collapse, I lower the flashlight and hook an arm around his waist before leading him into my apartment. I’m not thrilled about having him here, but I can’t exactly let him go home alone, not without stopping the bleeding at least.
Having helped him onto my couch, I assess him for a moment and then go to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom to grab my first aid kit. The empty shelf where I keep my inhalers reminds me I never put them away after getting home from the store. The attack and then the minor confrontation with Drew made it completely slip my mind.
I walk back into the living room, kit in hand, and catch sight of the expression on Drew’s face. I can’t help but laugh when I realize that in my haste, I left him in the dark. My laughter makes him chuckle, but then he winces and puts his hand up to his head.
Shoving the coffee table out of the way, I kneel in front of him. I place the kit on the floor next to me and rummage through it for a pair of gloves and an antibacterial wipe, so I can clean up the blood to get a better look at the cut itself.
“Close your eyes,” I order him, and he throws me a grin before doing so.
Ignoring it, I put the flashlight between my teeth and focus on cleaning his wound. Drew winces when the cold wipe brushes over the injured area, but I continue, regardless. It’s somewhat deep but doesn’t look bad enough to warrant a trip to the emergency room, thankfully.
Removing the flashlight from my mouth, I give it to Drew to hold steady before turning to grab the packet of Steri-Strips from the box.
“Not allergic to anything are you?” I ask.
“Only assholes,” he shoots back, but at the same time his lip quirks up at the corner, and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh.
“Very funny,” I reply sarcastically…glad his eyes are shut so he can’t see the smile spreading across my face.
I carefully apply the Steri-Strips over the cut to keep it closed. Drew hisses at the contact but doesn’t move, so it’s a quick and easy process. Grabbing another wipe, I quickly clean up the last of the blood before tossing all the waste in the trash along with the gloves.
“You’re all set,” I tell him after taking back the flashlight from him.
“Thanks,” Drew replies, opening his eyes.
He stares at me for a long moment and then smirks down at me, and to my embarrassment I realize I’m still kneeling in front of him. Snapping the lid on the kit shut, I get to my feet and leave the room with my heart pounding, and my mind racing.
Chapter Four
Drew
He all but fucking ran from me just then. My head is throbbing, and so is my cock now. The sight of Will on his knees in front of me, all sleep disheveled and fucking gorgeous, was almost too much. I could tell he wasn’t happy about letting me in, but it seems decency overruled his determination to be an asshole. I’m left wondering if it’s all a front to keep people out.
The lights flicker back on, blinding me for a moment and I blink until my eyes have adjusted to the sudden brightness. They’ve fixed the power. Now the room is lit, I scan around it, noting the warm browns and cream colors of the furniture. It’s not cluttered, and everything is neat and organized. Will clearly takes care of his space, not even a speck of dust sits on any of the surfaces as far as I can tell.
The only thing out of place is the coffee table, which I lean forward and straighten out for him. When I move it, a small box falls onto the floor with a low thud. Will is still somewhere else in the apartment, stowing away the first aid kit, and curiosity gets the better of me so I move to pick it up. I notice the name of a medicine brand on the side, and turning it over I read the label that’s been stuck to the box:
William Taylor
DOB: 09/27/1989
Use 2 puffs when needed to relieve symptoms
“What are you doing?” Will’s voice sounds from the doorway, making me jump and drop the box on the table.
“It fell on the floor…I was just picking it up,” I say guiltily, turning to meet his eyes.
Will’s expression is a mixture of wariness and anxiety when he looks from me to the box. I can’t understand why he’s staring at me like I’m about to tear him down over a box of medication. It’s nothing to be ashamed over; the way he was acting earlier and now, you’d think it was more serious. I thought he was taking illegal drugs or something when he was trying to hide them earlier. Yeah, it’s none of my business what’s wrong with him, but his behavior didn’t add up to something so simple as a medical condition.
When I continue to stare at him, his expression transforms to one of defiance and it’s just as baffling to me as his previous one.
“I’m asthmatic, and that’s my inhaler,” he admits in a defensive tone.
If it wasn’t for how he’s behaving right now, I’d laugh, because I don’t understand why he’s so upset about me knowing. Asthma isn’t exactly a rare or uncommon condition to have.
I shake my head. “It’s not a big deal. Lots of people have asthma. Why are you so worried about me knowing?” I ask, not really expecting him to answer.
Will looks away, and I can’t help wondering why he seems so uncomfortable with admitting that he has it. Feeling suddenly awkward with how tense it just got, I rise to my feet, intending to head back to my place. But I start to wobble when a wave of dizziness sweeps over me, and I’m forced to sit back down again with a groan. Rubbing my head, I cr
inge at the low throb of pain that warns of a slow but certain build of an oncoming headache. Damn, I must have hit my head hard.
Will leaves the room, and I haven’t got the stability right now to search him out. Closing my eyes to shut out the light, which suddenly seems far too bright, I let my mind drift, along with my consciousness. A hand shaking my shoulder jars me out of my daze, and I blink against the harsh light and see Will sitting next to me, holding a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers.
“Take these,” he says, offering them to me.
Twisting off the cap, I shake out two tablets and swallow them down with a gulp of water. Just as I’m passing the glass back to Will the lights shut off, throwing us once more into darkness. In my surprise at the power cutting out again, I let go of the glass, and Will’s shout of shock tells me he hadn’t gotten a hold of it properly.
“Fuck, that’s cold!” he curses, and I feel the couch cushions shift as he jumps out of the seat.
I can’t help it…I start laughing, and once I start I can’t stop, even though the noise and vibrations of laughter shaking my body are making my head hurt. I’m relieved when Will joins in with me; his laugh is low and full. After a few minutes, we both fall silent and the only sound is our breathing, but his is harsher, more raspy than mine.
“Damn, I left the flashlight in the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” he says breathlessly, and I hear his slow footsteps get fainter as he carefully heads toward the bathroom.
A twinge of concern flows through me, and I sit up straighter, trying to force myself to focus. Reaching out for the coffee table, I let my hands wander over the surface, feeling around for the box I dropped there a little while ago. My fingers brush across the cardboard packaging, and I pick it up just in case he needs to use it when he gets back.
