Farewell Apathy Page 6

  “Wait - what are you talking about? You’re free to flirt with whoever you want. He’s obviously into you. You should head back up there, I’m sure he would appreciate some alone time with you, now that the third wheel is gone.”

  “If anyone is the third wheel, it was me.”

  “What? Are you drunk, too? I could have sworn you only drank like, one beer.”

  “Were you paying attention at all, B?”

  “What are you talking about?” She’s not making any sense, and I’m in no frame of mind to be trying to figure shit out on my own.

  “He was only talking to me because you weren’t talking to him. At all. If I hadn’t kept the conversation going it would have been quiet and weird. But he spent the entire night staring at you, which you would know if you bothered to ever look in his direction. I flirted, hoping it would motivate you to make a move on him or something. It backfired. Even drunk you’re too stubborn to act on your attraction to him.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say on a yawn.

  “Come on, let’s get you in bed,” she says as she lifts me and wraps my arm around her shoulders so she can support me while she all but drags my limp body to my bedroom and lays me down on my make-shift ‘bed’ consisting of a pile of blankets.

  “I’m sorry I wanted to punch you in your face tonight.” Keegan chuckles at my confession and pulls the covers over me. My eyes are closed and I feel myself starting to drift off.

  “You wanted to punch me?”

  “Yeah. A lot.” I hear Keegan laughing as I drift out of consciousness, but I don’t miss the last thing she says before I fall asleep completely.

  “Jealousy can make people do some crazy things.”

  Wyatt

  One minute I’m laughing with Keegan on the couch, waiting for Brailey to get back from her extremely long trip to my bathroom, and the next thing I know both girls are running out of my apartment like it’s on fire.

  I’m tempted to go after them but decide against it. Today was bizarre and completely unexpected. I’m only supposed to watch Brailey, stay close to her, not completely infiltrate her life. I’m not sure what the repercussions of getting too close to her will end up being, but I have a feeling I’m not going to have a choice in the matter.

  Brailey was quiet and seemed uncomfortable all night, but her loud friend kept the conversation flowing. I lost count of how many times I had to apologize when I would get distracted by something Brailey was doing and wouldn’t hear what Keegan was saying. She never got annoyed, she would just smirk like she was in on my little secret.

  She doesn’t know my secret, though, and if letting her think my attention for Brailey was out of attraction will keep her from getting suspicious, then so be it.

  Not that Brailey isn’t desirable. I’d seen pictures of her before I moved into her building, but none of them prepared me for what she would look like in person. Keegan is gorgeous in a runway model sort of way, while Brailey has more of a girl-next-door look to her. The two of them couldn’t be any different, but watching them together it was clear to see how well they fit as friends, balancing each other out.

  When Brailey spilled my boxers all over the sidewalk and her face turned the most adorable shade of pink, I couldn’t help but take the opportunity to get close to her. Maybe I could have left a little more distance between us when I bent down to repack the box, but something about her, something I felt since I laid eyes on her that very first time out in front of the building, kept tugging me in her direction. The need to be near her was strong and foreign, unlike anything I’ve ever felt towards a woman, especially one I’d never met.

  As soon as I was actually near her I realized my mistake. The dress she wore made her look feminine and delicate, and the modest amount of exposed skin shouldn’t have been such a turn-on, but almost instantly I felt my dick getting hard in my pants. My mind automatically started picturing what her soft skin would feel like if I ran my fingertips teasingly across her shoulders, down her chest, dipping into the V between her breasts that look like they would fit perfectly in the palms of my hands.

  She smelled like peaches and sunsets; an obscure and tantalizing scent that had me wondering what would happen if I were to replace my hands with my tongue, trailing a wet path down her breasts, over her stomach and not stopping until I found the most intimate part of her. Would she taste as sweet as she smells?

  It doesn’t matter what she tastes like. She’s not mine to taste.

  Indulging in unrealistic fantasies involving Brailey is a waste of time, and if I don’t find a way to keep those fantasies at bay, then I’m going to be spending more time taking cold showers than actually doing my job.

  Avoiding her and keeping watch from a distance isn’t a possibility anymore. Both her and Keegan pretty much railroaded their way into my life on the first damn day, so I just need to find a way to keep my dick in check and focus on the task at hand.

  The task at hand meaning my job, which doesn’t require me to go after Brailey. Seeing the look on her face before she ran out my door put an ache in my chest and a restless energy in my legs, the desire to run after her and make sure she’s okay entirely too strong for having just met her today.

  To keep from giving in to my unprofessional and inappropriate urges, I busy myself with unpacking my sheets, making my bed so that I don’t have to sleep directly on the mattress. I still have to put my bed and a bunch of other shit back together, which I’d planned on doing tonight, but that was before I met the two women who just waltzed into my life and turned all of my carefully laid plans for Brailey to shit.

  ~

  “Yeah, I guess just put it over there.”

  The delivery guys are being less than enthusiastic about helping me. I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t bribed them with twenty bucks each then they would have unloaded my crap and left it sitting right there on the sidewalk. Apparently I should have tipped them a little better still, because they just keep dropping boxes and furniture in random places instead of where I ask them to sit it.

  In fact, the more I try to guide them, the more annoyed they seem to get with me.

  “Ow!” One of the jerk movers shoves me out of his way with his shoulder, sending me flying backwards into the doorframe.

  “Hey! Apologize to the lady.” I don’t know where he came from or how he got inside my apartment without me noticing, but Wyatt has the jerk by his collar and looks like he’s about to pound the guy’s face in. The mover guy has at least thirty pounds and a couple inches on Wyatt, but he’s more blubber than muscle and his big belly protruding over his pants is definitely no match for Wyatt’s meaty arms. You can practically see Wyatt’s muscles through his long sleeved tee.

  “S-s-sorry,” the guy stutters, and I almost feel a little sorry for him. But then my shoulder aches from where he just threw me into the wall and that pity evaporates.

  “Now put the box where the lady asked,” Wyatt orders. I’m a little too dumbfounded to speak, so I just stand back and watch as Wyatt orders them around until the truck is finally empty.

  “Well crap,” I mutter as I take in my box filled apartment.

  “Problem?” Wyatt asks coolly as he opens my fridge, helping himself to a bottle of water.

  “Uh, I guess I didn’t realize none of it would be put together.” Probably something normal people would have been aware of – but I’m not normal. Wyatt laughs, but otherwise doesn’t push the issue regarding lack of common knowledge.

  “Looks like you got most of it from Ikea, so it should be easy enough to put together.” He’s already tearing open a box, pulling out parts and laying them out. A drop of water sits on his upper lip, and my tongue slips out, swiping my own lips while I indulge in a little fantasy of swiping my tongue across his lips instead.

  “I’m happy to just be your man candy for the day, but it would probably go a lot faster if you helped.” Busted. My face flames with embarrassment, but his teasing smile is so damn endear
ing that a laugh slips out.

  “Sorry, of course, I’ll help. What do we need to do?”

  For the next two hours I basically played assistant to Wyatt while he did all the actual labor. He was right – most of it was pretty simple. Or at least it looked simple, since I was more an observer than a participant. Despite having assembled my bed frame, side tables, dresser, and kitchen table, Wyatt looks fresh as a daisy. The man is in good shape. And those hands…those big, strong, capable hands. Hands he used to build furniture while I fantasized about what those hands could be doing to me instead.

  “I’m starved. Why don’t we order some food and then I’ll get your living room furniture done?”

  “I’d be happy to buy you lunch, it’s the least I can do, but you really don’t have to stay and finish the rest. I’m sure you have other things you need to do.”

  Guess he didn’t have anywhere to be, because we just polished off the last of the Thai food I ordered and we’re still sitting on my new couch watching the newest Star Wars movie.

  “I still think she’s going to be Luke’s daughter.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a little too obvious, though? My guess is that she’s Han Solo’s daughter and Kylo Ren’s half-sister.”

  Apparently my memory loss did not extend to my knowledge of Star Wars movies. It all came flooding back to me the minute the opening credits popped onto the screen.

  “That’s stretching it a bit,” Wyatt argues. The end credits are rolling and we’ve been debating Rey’s character for half the movie. “Plus the producers have already admitted they don’t know where they are going with the story. They could go anywhere with the plot.”

  Tossing the last Thai container in the garbage, I turn and scoff at Wyatt. “Puh-lease. They probably just say that to keep people guessing. There’s no way they don’t already know where they are going with the story.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” he offers with a shrug. “So do you want to get the rest of this done, or…”

  My eyebrow quirks when his sentence trails off and he averts his gaze. “Or what?”

  “I’ve got the first six episodes on DVD in my apartment.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously. Dammit. Why is it so adorable when he’s nervous? And why would he be nervous? He practically attacked the moving guy for bumping into me, but asking me to watch a movie with him has him acting all shy and uncertain?

  Like I said – adorable.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve seen them. I could probably use a refresher. Why don’t you go get them while I finish picking up in here?”

  There isn’t a lot to clean up, so it only takes me about five seconds. I spend the rest of the time checking myself in the mirror. Yeah, I’m that girl now. Is it even possible for me to pretend I’m not around Wyatt? He’s the epitome of sexiness, and turns out, has a pretty great personality, too. He stood up for me and demanded an apology from that mover, then spent half his day fighting with the vague instructions that came with my furniture, and now we’re going to have a Star Wars marathon?

  Conversation flows easily around him, despite how incredibly on edge I feel when he’s near. My whole damn apartment smells like his cologne now, and every time I breathe in my body silently begs to be closer to the source of that delicious scent. Even now, when I inhale deeply, the smell is so strong that I can practically feel his body close to mine.

  “Got the movies,” Wyatt says from right behind me, making me jump. No wonder he felt like he was actually next to me. My imagination isn’t that good. “I also brought some bags of popcorn in case we wanted snacks later. Wasn’t sure if you already had any.”

  I don’t. I made a quick run to the supermarket yesterday to get drinks and a few necessities, but microwave popcorn wasn’t one of them.

  Wyatt gives me a few seconds to admire his backside as he bends over to load episode one into the DVD player, which he also hooked up for me before we watched the last movie. He takes a seat at the end of the couch opposite mine, putting a safe amount of distance between us. At least it felt safe at first. The further we get into the movie, the more his distance starts to feel like torture rather than safety.

  “Can you pause it? I need to use the restroom.”

  Wyatt clears his throat and grabs the remote, looking every bit as uncomfortable as I feel. Is he feeling the sexual tension between us too? Or does he literally just feel uncomfortable around me?

  Not giving myself time to dwell on it, I make the most of my few minutes away from Wyatt by throwing some cold water on my face and giving myself a pep talk about why it’s not a good idea to try and seduce my neighbor.

  The microwave beeps as I come back into the room and Wyatt is at the sink, washing one of the new bowls that came with the delivery of my dishes today. Why does he have to be so freaking thoughtful and sweet? Why can’t he just be an asshole and make it easier to keep my libido in check?

  After grabbing us each a bottle of water from the fridge, I plop myself back down on the couch. We didn’t get around to assembling my coffee table, and I feel Wyatt take a seat next to me while I’m bent over, putting the bottles on the floor.

  Definitely no distance between us anymore. I didn’t even realize that when I sat back down, I sat smack in the middle of the couch. Though Wyatt has plenty of room on the other side of him, so practically sitting on my lap had to have been intentional.

  Wyatt holds the bowl out to me, and I almost smack my forehead at my stupidity. He just sat close to share the popcorn, not because he’s trying to actually be closer to me.

  God, I’m such an idiot.

  Or maybe I’m not. Don’t think it’s necessary that he sling his arm over the back of the couch and casually rub my shoulder with the tips of his fingers in order for us to share a snack.

  Also, I was wrong before. Being nestled into Wyatt’s side, but not being able to kiss him or touch him or climb on top of him? That is torture.

  Chapter Five

  I’m hiding out in the laundry room, washing all my new clothes before I start work in a few days. I’ve been avoiding both Keegan and Wyatt the last couple days, not ready to face either of them yet.

  Keegan has been a nightmare since she walked in to my apartment without knocking and caught Wyatt and I snuggled up on the couch. It was an innocent snuggle, nothing happened between us, but we were definitely cozy. By episode three of Star Wars, Wyatt was laying against the back of my couch with me playing the part of the little spoon. At some point the sexual tension eased into a tolerable need to be close, which resulted in a game of spooning. I call it a game because we were both very aware of what parts should not be touching, and we both made a conscious effort to keep space between them.

  I will never admit it to her, but I was so thankful for Keegan’s interruption. My willpower was waning, and the longer we laid like that, the more I wanted to just say ‘screw it’ and flip over, putting an end to the stupid spooning game.

  Wyatt jumped up so fast when Keegan came barreling into the room that he almost knocked me onto the floor. He mumbled some sort of apology before bolting out the door, leaving me behind to feel like a teenager who just got caught by her parents while making out with her boyfriend.

  Now Keegan is convinced that more is going on between us than there is. I mean, I’ve only known Wyatt a handful of days, so it’s not possible for there to be more going on. Right?

  Whatever, it’s just lust. He’s still pretty much a stranger. Yeah, so he’s a polite, considerate, sweet and seriously hot stranger, but still a stranger. The fact that my body seems to react to him in ways that I’m still not willing to totally admit to yet doesn’t change anything. I’ve not known him nearly long enough to be obsessing over him every waking second. Too bad that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.

  I wish I could talk to Mark about it, but even with our murky history aside, I’m not sure it would be appropriate. I don’t want to hurt him, and even though I have no idea if he has those types of feelings for
me still, I don’t want to risk it. I’ve been putting off calling him, only taking the time to send a text once in a while, and I know it’s bothering him because he’s clearly agitated in his messages, which makes me feel horribly guilty.

  I throw in another load of clothes into the washer in the lower level of my apartment building, and decide to just get it over with and call him while I wait.

  “Hey! Finally!” I yell excitedly. He laughs softly on the other end, but even through the phone I can hear the sadness in it. “I’m sorry, I know we haven’t had a chance to talk much. Are you busy now? Is this a bad time?”

  He hesitates a second before answering. “No, no it’s fine. I was about to head out, but it can wait. Tell me what’s going on with you.”

  “Oh, well I don’t want to keep you. Really, it’s fine. I can call you later.”

  Things feel strained and awkward, which is new for us. I’ve never felt anything but completely at ease when talking to Mark. It’s my fault that we haven’t talked much, and the distance is putting a wedge between us, but I’m not sure how to fix it. I’m not even sure why I’m avoiding him to begin with.

  “Stop it, I told you it’s fine,” he says with a sigh, his words having a little snap to them, which surprises me.

  “Okay...well, tell me how things are at Mayford.”

  He spends a few minutes giving me a recap of what’s going on, but he sounds disinterested or distracted...I’m not sure which. I wish he was here in person so I could see his face and maybe be able to figure out what’s bothering him, because there’s no way he’s that upset over not talking to me in a few days.

  “So, that’s about it. Enough about me and my boring life, tell me about your new place. You ready to start your job? Make any friends yet?”

  “Yeah! Her name is Keegan and she’s great, you would just love her Mark. I can’t wait for you to come visit.” I didn’t mean to sound so overly enthusiastic, and the exaggerated pep in my voice makes me cringe. Good thing he isn’t here to witness in person just how forced my response was. I prattle on about Keegan for a few minutes, intentionally leaving out any details that involve Wyatt. I know when Mark comes to visit he’ll most likely end up meeting him, but I don’t want Mark to read into things too much, especially with this weirdness between us right now.