Page 3 of Big Burly Neighbor
AILEEN
Clicking my phone screen, I check the date again. Yes, I’m not crazy. We are in October. Then why is it so hot today? I put the phone away and fan myself, wondering when was the last time a Saturday got this hot. Definitely back in August.
It shouldn’t be allowed to go over ninety during October. That should be a crime.
Glimpsing over my shoulder, I inspect my current project. The canvas is propped next to my window, taking whatever light I can get here. The sight of my mysterious neighbor the other day inspired me to do something new—I’m usually all about fields and flowers, but he made me want to paint something else. I wanted to try my hand at blues, like his deep eyes, so I’ve been working on an ocean view. During the night, with only the moon to illuminate it, draping silver rays onto the waves.
One tiny problem. I don’t have silver paint. It’s the one thing I’m missing from the image I had in my head.
No matter. I bought it a couple of days ago. With some luck, it’s arriving today. I adjust the strap of my tank top, wondering if it’s alright to go downstairs in what I’m wearing. No bra for me today, and shorts to bear the heat. Today is one of the days I feel blessed for having cut my hair in a short bob. My neck is free for whatever breeze graces me, though there’s none at the moment.
I swallow, gazing at the canvas again. The blue makes me think ofhim, even when I know I shouldn’t. He’s clearly older than me, some twenty years at least, and he’s so out of my league. It’s like wondering if I have any chances with Henry Cavill. At least I know Henry’s name. My neighbor? I don’t even have that.
A sigh works its way up my throat. How silly is this? To think of someone over and over when you don’t even know their name? He’s been in my dreams and my waking thoughts. This painting is because of him, as I know will be the next—a drawing of woods, bathed in blue light, something I’ve been sketching. He’s rugged, half-wild in that rough look of his, and he must have a line of girls wanting a chance with him.
A man that big, all muscles and manliness? No way he’d ever look twice my way. I love romanticizing my daily activities, but I can’t let myself go there. A crush would only break my heart, and yet he’s all I think about.
A knock makes me jerk back to reality. For how long have I been standing here? Staring at my unfinished painting? God, I need to get a grip. I shake my head and make my way to the kitchen. Maybe an early lunch could distract me. At least I’ll keep my hands busy...
The knock interrupts my thoughts again. Oh. I think it’s here. I frown. Weird, I don’t get people knocking on my door often. More like never. I amble closer, and grip the knob, waiting a second before I decide to check who’s there. I open the door, and it’s like the Greek god has walked out of my dreams.
My mysterious neighbor stands there, staring at me with those electric blue eyes. I take a sharp breath, and the musky scent of his sweat hits my nostrils. Sweat shouldn’t smell this good, should it? Still, it’s so alluring it makes shivers pop all over my arms and down my spine. My nipples harden against my shirt as I gape at him, mouth half-open, eyes wide at the sight of him.
He clears his throat, offering me a small cardboard box. “This was downstairs for you.”
“Oh!” I grab the box. “Thank you. They didn’t update the tracking.”
“That wasn’t a problem, Aileen,” he says.
Warmth grows in my chest. I blink for a moment, wondering how he knows my name... But it’s obvious. He read it in the box. I force a smile onto my face. “It was so kind of you to bring me the delivery, and I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Zion,” he says in a lower, hoarse voice that makes my stomach flip. And there’s more.
My pulse picks up, thrumming in my ears as I search for his gaze. He’s staring at me hard now, his brows lowering as he gives me a once-over, studying what I’m wearing. Heat spreads over my cheeks, down my neck. Guess the shorts and tank top would have been a bad idea to go downstairs. Do I look ridiculous? Does he think I shouldn’t be allowed in clothes like this when my thighs are covered in stretch marks and cellulitis?
Zion (hot name, by the way) clenches his jaw so hard a muscle flutters there. “Shit,” he roars. “Are your blinds open?”
“What?” I blink several times. This chat isn’t going anywhere I expected. “The blinds?” I look over my shoulder at my living room. There’s no sunlight here, not the way I want it, and I have to keep my lights on even on sunny days. “Yeah, the blinds are open. Is there a problem?”
He steps in, then around me, rushing into my living room. I watch with raised brows as Zion makes his way to my windows and closes the blinds with a couple of rushed, jerky moves. I walk in after him, letting my front door shut with a soft thud. What is he doing? Is there some rule about keeping the blinds closed? That would make sense. All my neighbors keep theirs closed, but I thought it was because of privacy...
Touching my hip to the edge of my small dining table, I wait for Zion to turn around. He takes an about-face, staring at me with eyes so dark they’re almost black. A shiver of warning shoots through me. Is he mad? Why? What’s happening here?
He prowls closer to me, giving me another once-over. His gaze stops, frozen on my chest. My hard nipples grow tighter under his scrutiny, my body responding in a way it shouldn’t. I sink my nails into the box I’m still holding and squeeze my shoulders together.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper.
Zion stops inches from me, his massive body shadowing mine. The proximity makes me breathless. I tilt my chin up to connect our gazes, even when the only thing I can think about is closing my eyelids and begging him to hug me. Those meaty arms around me would feel amazing, like a cocoon, and I have never felt like anyone desired me, and if he did...
“What do you think you’re doing?” he roars, snapping me out of my reverie.
The shock of his rudeness makes me tremble to my bones. “What do you mean?” Can he read my thoughts? Does he see how hard I want him? How much I desire his body against mine? I’m two seconds away from apologizing when he ends the tiny space between us, sealing our bodies together.
His warm breath hits my face, the scent of his sweat invading my lungs. There’s something sharp and woodsy about it, and I have never smelled something so alluring. His hard chest pressed against me, those brawny arms caging me against the table... The temperature rises, making me choke. My brain is about to go haywire.
“You can’t be dressed like that with your blinds open,” he roars, baring his teeth as if he were going insane. “You don’t know who’s watching. Just because the blinds are closed, it doesn’t mean there’s no one looking at you. There are pervs in the world, Aileen. Wicked people who could jerk off at the sight of your legs, and you would never know.”
My throat clenches. Oh, God, I never thought about that. I widen my eyes, staring back at him. “You think so?” I remember walking around in my panties, thinking no one would see me. And yet, does he think there is? Does he think someone would... “But why would they want to look atme?” I ask, arching an eyebrow. “If I were skinny, I would get it, but...”
