I remind her of that. Shit—it keeps me in check, too.
Abbott is funny, cute, successful—it would be too fucking easy to fall in love with her…
“If you keep bossing me around, I’m going to put the cat on your lap when you sit down.”
I hiss. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
11
Abbott
Brooks arrives before the food does, and Desdemona and I are on the couch when the first knock of the evening sounds through my compact but stylish apartment.
I breeze down the little hallway, checking my reflection in the mirror hanging above the small table I normally use for my keys, mail, and purse. My dark hair is down, wavy, and looks amazing against my baby blue sweatshirt. It’s velvet and ridiculously soft, so—not your average sweatshirt, but casual enough that it doesn’t look like I’m trying.
I’ve thrown on a pair of dark, charcoal gray leggings. They have a hint of sheen and are skintight. Bare feet.
He’s not going to notice what you’re wearing, Abbott. Why did you even bother? Nervously, I push my hair behind my ears. It’s meh. Pull it back down, giving it a fluff. A few strands fly up from static, and I curse. “Stop. He’s going to know you were fussing.”
Why am I fidgeting? It’s just Brooks.
Just Brooks? Is there such a thing?
Brooks is clever and…
…and has my stomach twisting into a knot. I take a few breaths as I continue fretting in the mirror, running a hand down my silky hair, finger combing it for the umpteenth time. Ruffle it to give it volume. Smooth it back down.
“Ugh!”
Okay, so he’s not ha ha funny, and let’s get real here—he’s definitely not funnier than I am.
What he is, though, is heart-stoppingly handsome. Maybe not in the classical way; certainly there are guys who are far better looking. Still, something in the way he carries himself has had me lying in bed the past few nights, staring up at the ceiling in my bedroom, daydreaming.
Remembering his face as the elevator doors closed on him. His expression when he blew through the stairwell door, flushed and breathing heavy. The way he looked when Desi hissed at him the first time they met.
I glance behind me to check for the cat as Brooks knocks for the second time; this time, I’m ready, yanking open the door too hard. Too eager. Too flushed. Too done up.
Ugh, I hate myself right now.
“Sup, buddy?” He gives me a nudge when he bounds into my tiny foyer, kicking off his sport sandals next to the door, giving them a tap so they’re off to the side.
His nose goes in the air, sniffing. “I don’t smell anything,” he muses. “Why don’t I smell anything?”
“It only took you fifteen minutes to change—what, are you expecting Superman to deliver the food?”
“Kind of. I mean, I said Nan Margolis no less than four times in a five-minute conversation with the manager of Flocke and Brow.”
“The manager?”
“Manager approval is the only way to get anything delivered from that place.”
I shake my head with a smile on my face, closing the door behind him. Trail along after when he goes to the kitchen, puts some ice in a glass, pours himself a water. Takes a second one out and repeats the process for me.
“Water okay?” He finally glances at me over his broad shoulder. He’s wearing a navy Henley and gray lazy pants, the kind that make his ass look round and thighs muscular and—
“Earth to Abbott?” He’s holding the glass out in front of my face; I hadn’t noticed because I was objectifying him sexually. “Hello?”
Oops. “Thanks.”
When I reach for the cup, my fingers cover his and I shiver. Shake it off because he isn’t into me that way, sees me as a friend, and I’d do best to remember that.
Thankfully, the awkward moment is interrupted by another knock. Brooks flees to the door. “Thank God you’re here—I could eat the ass out of a dead skunk,” is his greeting.
I poke my head around the corner in time to see Brooks slide a twenty-dollar bill into a young man’s hand then send him off with a pat to the bicep. “Thanks, man. We appreciate it.”
We.
My ovaries clench.
He didn’t mean we as in we, Abbott. Calm down. Get a grip.
Still, seeing him slide that kid a fat tip has my girl parts hot and bothered. I love a guy who is generous, and Brooks just showed me a layer of himself I’ve never seen.
Realistically, it’s because other than hanging out in