It pissed me off that he wasn’t even winded when he spoke. His breath tickled my neck as he held me in place, and his voice was low and measured. “What was that?”
“I was trying to show you my moves.”
I felt his body shake behind me, although there was no sound.
“Are you laughing at me? Again?”
He laughed through his answer. “No.”
“I have moves. I swear. I’m just all sorts of off tonight because of everything that happened.”
He still hadn’t released me. Instead, he leaned forward, putting his head over my shoulder, and spoke. “If we’re showing off moves, I’d be happy to demonstrate some of mine, too.”
Every hair on my body reached for the sky while goosebumps prickled my skin. “Umm…I…I…”
He released his hold, and it took me a minute to find my bearings. Rather than face him with the blush I felt on my face, I kept my back to him as I gathered the last of my things and pulled my charger from the wall.
“I have deliveries scheduled and a phone line being installed Tuesday.” My shoulders slumped again. “I paid double for the storage company to deliver this week, too. I’ll cancel everything first thing in the morning, but just in case they show up…if you’re here, if you wouldn’t mind turning them away.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.” I lifted my box and had no choice but to face him.
He walked around the table to where I was standing and took it out of my hands before leading me to the reception area. Everything else in the space was dark, but the light from what I’d thought was my file room illuminated the hall enough that we could see each other. We stopped in front of the service door I’d been using for the last week. It dawned on me that the fake real estate agent probably had me using that entrance to avoid getting caught too quickly. He’d told me not to use the main Park Avenue entrance because the building didn’t want dust tracked through on our shoes during the construction. I’d bought everything that scammer had said.
“Got a name, Oklahoma? Or should I just call you squatter?”
“Emerie. Emerie Rose.”
“Pretty name. Rose your last name or middle?”
“Last.”
He shifted the box he was carrying from two hands to one and extended the free one to me. “Drew. Drew Michael.”
I squinted. “Middle or last?”
His smile lit up the dimness as I placed my hand in his. The man didn’t have dimples. He had mouth cleavage.
“Middle. Jagger’s my last name.”
“Nice to meet you, Drew Jagger.”
He didn’t let go of my hand. “Really? Nice to meet me? You’re way more polite than I would be under the circumstances.”
“You’re right. At this point, I might be wishing you were really a burglar after all.”
“Do you have a car? It’s late, and this box is pretty heavy.”
“It’s fine. I’ll just grab a cab.”
He nodded. “Better be careful getting in and out. That skirt seems to have a mind of its own.”
That time, not even the dark could hide the blush. “With all the mortification I’ve suffered tonight, you couldn’t let me just have that one? Pretend it never happened?”
Drew smirked. “It’s impossible to pretend I didn’t see that ass.”
I was thin, but my ass was a little on the large side. I’d always been self conscious of it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It was a compliment.”
“Oh.”
“Why did your skirt fall down, anyway? Did you lose weight recently or something?”
At that point, nothing could embarrass me any more than I’d already done to myself, so I laughed as I told him the truth. “I had a big burger for dinner, and my skirt was tight so I unzipped it. The door was locked. I didn’t think anyone would be coming in.”
“A woman who eats big burgers and looks like that? Don’t let the other New York women know. They’ll put you back on a bus to Oklahoma.” He winked. And God, was I pathetic that I felt the pitter-patter of my heart speed up.
We walked outside, and Drew waited with me, holding my box until a cab pulled up at the curb. He leaned on the top of the door after I climbed in.
“New Year’s Eve always sucks. Tomorrow will be better. Why don’t you stay in bed, order another big burger, and try to get some rest. I’ll meet you at the police station the day after tomorrow. 19th Precinct over on 67th Street. Say eight a.m.? New Year’s Day will be crazy at the station—still processing drunken idiots from the night before.”
I hadn’t even thought of the police. I guess I did need to file a report.
“You don’t have to come with me. I’ve already intruded enough on you.”
Drew shrugged. “They’ll want my statement for their report anyway. Plus, I’m friendly with a few of the guys. It’ll get you in and out faster.”