Yes, it’s a definite. Apart from the anger management issues, this guy is officially hot stuff. Not that I’m after an actual love interest. Just inspiration for the hero of my next book.
Which is when it hits me…big buff dude reveals surprisingly sensitive side to sexy single introverted neighbor during quarantine. Hmm. It has possibilities. I stop procrastinating and move onto the next pose, arms out in a T, legs wide, and a slow bend at the waist. I exhale, pondering the plot idea along with the thickness of his thighs. The way the denim lovingly embraces every inch of his musculature. It’s like it’s on a loop playing over and over in my head. Okay, maybe I’m a little sex starved. He can feature in my masturbatory fantasies as well. After all, he’s that kind of can-do, helpful guy. Or at least, he is in my mind. And that’s where the man will stay. At a safe and appropriate distance. For both the virus and my heart.
Back to building my hero. What color should his eyes be? Blue as the sky on a cloudless summer day? Green as the first leaves of spring. Brown as…I don’t know, something that’s brown. Obviously, my brain is sugar starved due to insufficient snacks. A situation that needs to be remedied ASAP. The Reece’s Pieces were meant to be for tomorrow, but oh well. These are trying times and sacrifices must be made. I also have notes to make. Lots and lots of them.
With a little pep in my step, I roll up my mat, tuck it under my arm, and sneak one last glance at my neighbor. His forehead is resting against the glass window, cell phone plastered to his ear. He seems defeated, sorrowful. Now I’m wondering if something happened to him. Could it be related to the virus? Silently I wish the dude well, along with hoping he keeps his volume down. I’ve got a great first chapter to write, and Mama needs a snack.CHAPTER 2
QUARANTINE: DAY 2
SADIE“NO, MOM, YOU CAN’T DO that. You need to stay home.” I hold my cell in one hand while rubbing at the tension building in my temples with the other. “The idea is to only go out once a week for groceries, and even then you need to wash your hands before and after as though you were a doctor getting ready for surgery. Why don’t you stress-bake cookies instead? I know your German coffee cake is great, but you’ve got plenty of other supplies to perfect a new masterpiece of epic baking proportions.”
“But it’s your father’s favorite,” she whines.
“Pretty sure you’re also his favorite, so having you alive and well is kind of important. You can’t expect me to listen to him go on and on about golf after you die, leaving me his auditory victim. That’s just cruel, Mom.”
She sighs heavily, probably weighing the pros and cons of her daughter’s advice and finding something lacking in my lecture.
When did parents become so high maintenance? And apparently bulletproof. Just yesterday Dad went out for new gardening gloves despite the repeated warnings from the government and every medical professional and scientist under the sun. They were bored, and fair enough—I’m bored too—but holy cow. I was terrified one of them would catch the virus over something as stupid as needing an emergency Snickers bar.
“At least you have a house and yard. I’m stuck in an apartment.” So I’m not above doing a little whining myself. Such is life. It’s been raining on and off all day. The sky is gray and miserable overhead. Perfect weather for hunkering down and living in sweats. Pity about the small bout of cabin fever. “I know you’re a grown adult and I don’t mean to lecture you—”
“Yes, you do,” she retorts immediately.
She’s not wrong. I want to scare her. Them. They need to heed the warnings. “Mom, you’re in the most at-risk age group. It’s so important you and Dad be careful.”
“Have you heard from Sean lately?”
I look to heaven. It’s entirely possible my parents love my ex-boyfriend more than I ever did. They certainly aren’t above using him to stop me from lecturing them about the dangers of the pandemic. Sean plays golf and made partner at his accountancy firm. Sporty in a way that appealed to Dad and solvent in a way my mother could admire. Too bad he is boring as all hell out of the sack. Also, since he went through an ugly divorce prior to us dating, his views on relationships are tainted to say the least. I’m surprised the man didn’t insist on me signing a pre-nup on the first date.
“No,” I said. “So much no, Mom. The no is everywhere, spilling onto the floor, climbing up the walls…”
She huffs. “There’s no need to get dramatic, Sadie. Sean is a very nice man.”