No creepy serial killer.
Check, one point to my overactive imagination. Still, I continue to tiptoe across my deck to the tall, teak fence shielding my outdoor shower. I glance around, making sure no one is outside to witness my psychotic behavior, then dart around the privacy fence like a jacked up ninja, complete with the “hi-ya.”
The bat falls from my hands, crashing onto the black deck.
My shower’s on all right.
With a very, very naked man in it with his back to me as he rinses his hair. He jumps, turning to face me as he clasps both his hands over his junk.
My mouth falls open as I stand there staring.
Holy muscles and toned ass cheeks and everything that is holy.
I should turn, look away, say something. Instead, I keep gawking like a creeper. There are just so many muscles. Wet muscles, with a stream of water cascading down his washboard abs to the bulge that’s not really contained by his hands.
“I, um,” he’s the first to break the silence, “your roommate, friend . . . Um, Vivian . . . She said I could use your shower since mine is –”
My eyes dart up to his face as recognition slams into me. “You’re my neighbor.” I’m not sure if it’s a question or a statement as the words tumble from my mouth, interrupting whatever he was saying.
My new neighbor. The asshole neighbor.
I was checking out my asshole neighbor, and there is no way he didn’t notice. Sunglasses hiding my face or not, there’s no way he couldn’t tell. Fuck my life.
My cheeks burn as I back up, hitting the fence behind me. Yet that’s as far as I move.
He smiles. It does things to me. Things his smile shouldn’t do. Like have my thighs clenching together as a low chuckle emanates from his chest.
Why am I still staring?
He takes a step toward me, and reaches his hand out as a whimper escapes my lips. His wet arm brushes my thigh as he reaches behind me and grabs a towel.
Finally, I jerk, jumping away as my entire body jolts to awareness. I’m certain my panties are as soaked as his body. My gaze lingers below his washboard abs as he wraps the towel around his waist for another long second before I turn away.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says in such a deep voice that has my thighs clenching even tighter.
“You . . . I . . . Um . . .”
He chuckles again, and I reach out and grab the wall for support because apparently my legs no longer work.
The pitter-patter of the water stops. “Let me make it up to you.”
I turn my head back toward him. My shoulders sag at the towel, now firmly secured around his waist.
“For using your shower without you knowing,” he clarifies when I don’t reply.
“You want to apologize for using my shower?” Somehow, I think that’s the least of everything he should be apologizing for, especially considering the view he treated me to.
“Yeah,” he runs a hand through his wet hair, “and for all the noise. I promise,” he flashes a dimpled smile, “I’m a really good neighbor.”
Yeah, and I’m the tooth fairy. “You have anything else you want to apologize for while you’re at it?” I could probably do a few apologies, too, but no way I’m going first. Not admitting anything until he does.
He furrows his brow.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I turn to walk away, but he speaks up, freezing my feet once more.
“Have dinner with me.” The way he stares at me, makes me wonder if maybe I’m the one who’s naked.
“I . . .”