Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“I am actually. They’re very helpful. Are we getting a new neighbor?” I ask, pointing at the open door. I do like to keep tabs on these things, to know who lives next to me in case something happens.
Her smile widens and she ushers her cat back into the apartment when the furball tries to sneak out. “Yes, and I have to tell you… he’s really handsome. If I were your age, I’d be hanging out at the laundrette to accidentally bump into him.”
I laugh. “Consider my curiosity piqued.”
She leans closer to me and whispers. “I told him you’re single. You know, to get that out of the way for you. He just thanked me but didn’t say he wasn’t gay. Or married.”
I stiffen and my face flushes with heat. She did not… In moments like this, I regret coming out to her, but what can I do now that the cat’s out of the bag?
“That’s um… thanks.” I guess.
It’s only now that her face falls, as if she realized she might have overstepped. “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that he’s very… very good-looking, and polished. I kind of assumed he might be interested in men.”
Which doesn’t make any of this better, but I’m not going to scold a seventy-year-old for trying to save me from singlehood.
I clear my throat. “That’s okay. Please say hi to Mr. Mittens from me,” I say and limp off, trying to stop thinking about the fact that my elderly neighbor tried to awkwardly push another man at me. God, the poor guy will be running for the hills the moment he spots me.
The day gets even worse when I reach the elevator, and after pressing the button several times there’s no reaction. I’m way more familiar with this kind of stuff than I’d like to be, but today this hurdle feels like too much to bear. Unfortunately, working isn’t optional, so I approach the steep stairs with trepidation, and my mind instantly scrambles. It’s not just that it will take me a lot of effort to go down them because of my knee.
When I look down the steps, all I can see is the stairs leading down to the basement of my old family house. I can almost hear the laughter that resonated in my ears after a man called Miles Brown shoved me off the landing with a bloodstained hand.
I hold on to the railing yet can’t make myself move, as if something paralyzed both of my legs.
This isn’t a day for a meltdown. Chuck will be pissed off if you’re late again, the rational part of my brain reminds me, but I’m so damn tired after several sleepless nights in a row that willpower fails me. I find myself sitting down on the top step with my eyes closed, hoping that maybe I can force myself to slide down on my butt, like I used to do for fun when I was still a kid.
But first, I need to remind myself how to breathe again.
“Afternoon.”
I glance back, sliding to the side when I realize I must be blocking the stairs. “Sorry,” I say, but my lips stay parted, because this has to be the new neighbor, and Mrs. Treville wasn’t lying.
He’s so fucking gorgeous he doesn’t belong to this ugly corridor with peeling paint and black mold in the corner of the ceiling. He’s towering over me as I sit and looks like a classical statue come to life. His aquiline nose gives his face a regal aura befitting a Greek god, and his mid-length dark hair is swept back without a single strand out of place. I could be fooled into believing Orion himself came down to Earth to walk around mere mortals if I didn’t know better. The finely knitted bottle green sweater he’s wearing complements his hazel eyes, and as he leans against the banister and smiles at me, I’m left utterly baffled.
Because what could this guy be doing here?
I scramble up, helping myself with the cane to get out of the way faster. “You need space? For furniture?” I ask, pointing at the stairs I was blocking. No matter how hard I try, I can’t look away from his eyes. They’re such a striking blend of gold and greens they remind me of an autumn day in the forest, safe and away from anyone who might wish me ill. They’re so piercing it’s as if he’s sent an arrow straight into my heart.
Or I’ve just bottled up my sexual frustration for too long.
He shrugs and offers me his hand. “No, we’re done carrying everything in. I just wanted to introduce myself. The name’s Saint.”
I swallow and put on my best smile. One that doesn’t scream stay away, he’s not normal and tried to shoot a guy last week. “Rowan. I’m just across from you.”