To The Rude Guy in Apartment Five - J. S. Cooper Page 0,11
it open. I tiptoed outside of my door and into the corridor and then practically ran to Jagger’s door. I wanted to leave the note without him realizing I was there. I thought I was safe and was about to place the note on his door when it suddenly swung open.
“Why, looky here.” Jagger’s laughing green eyes stared at me. “I have a visitor.”
“No, you don’t.” My hand was still up in the air, and I tried not to gawk. He was standing there wearing nothing but a pair of black basketball shorts. His dark hair was wet, and I could see water droplets running down his chest through his neatly trimmed chest hair. Shit, he was sexy!
“Why are you at my door, then?”
“I came to give you this,” I said feebly, handing him the note in my hand. He took it from me and read it quickly. I wasn’t sure why I continued to stand there as he read it. Maybe I was a glutton for punishment or maybe it was because secretly I enjoyed our back and forths.
“So you want to bang Brad Pitt?” He cocked his head to the side and studied me. “Are you telling me that you wish I was blond? I can dye my hair if you want.”
“I don’t think you’d look good with blond hair.”
“I think I would look good with any color hair.” He winked at me. “And by the way. I’m not talking about millimeters. I’m talking about inches.”
“Excuse me?” I pretended to be ignorant of what he was talking about.
“My cock,” he said and then he reached down and grabbed himself. My eyes widened as he started laughing. “It’s eight inches. Not millimeters, not centimeters.”
“That’s nice.” I shrugged. “Not eight feet, though.”
“I’m not sure what an eight-foot cock would look like.” He stared at my lips. “I don’t think you could suck on eight feet.”
“I couldn’t suck on eight inches, either.”
“I have a feeling you’d be okay.” He opened his door wider. “Would you like to come inside?”
“No.”
“No?” He stared into my eyes for a few seconds. “You don’t want to have dinner?”
“I just ate.”
“I waited for you, though.” He pouted. “I haven’t cooked or eaten yet.”
“No one told you to wait for me.”
“You haven’t changed yet.” He smiled. “Putting a note on my door was more important, huh?”
“I was just about to change.” I took a step back. “Anyways, I should go back to my apartment now.”
“No need to run. Don’t you want to wait for my reply?”
“What reply?”
“The reply to your note.”
“I don’t need a reply.” I shook my head. “Well, have a good evening.”
“Wait.” He took a step forward. “Do you want to watch a movie tonight?”
“A movie?” I blinked at him. “Where?”
“My place. Your place.” He shrugged. “The movie theater? You can choose.”
“I can’t.” I shook my head. “I have homework for my new job. I need to figure out as much as I can about credit and finance.”
“Tonight?”
“I’m thinking I’m going to write my first blog post tomorrow.” I nodded. “The app is launching in a month, and we need to generate hype.”
“Never thought I’d see you working in the tech industry.” Jagger looked thoughtful. “I know about finance. You know, I studied business. I can help you.”
“Oh, yeah.” I had almost forgotten that he’d gotten a business degree and then worked on Wall Street. “What are you doing now?” I asked instead of acknowledging his offer to help. I knew the sort of help he was offering and I was not interested. One second he’d be talking about stocks and the next second my bra would be off. Not today, Satan! I know your plan, Jagger.
“Now?” He smiled. “Talking to you.”
“I mean, what are you doing for a job? What made you move to San Francisco?” His charm was too engaging, and I was awfully distracted by his abs. He had the most defined six-pack I’d ever seen in my life. I bet I could bounce a coin off his stomach.
“So many questions.” He chuckled. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to come in for a drink or something even if you don’t have time for a movie?”
“I don’t drink, sorry.”
“You don’t drink?” He looked shocked. “But how do you survive without water?”
“Well, of course I drink water. I just meant I don’t drink alcohol.”
“Did I mention alcohol?”
“No.”
“I suppose the two wine bottles I saw in your apartment earlier are for guests?”
“What?” My face was heating up again. Why had I lied about