Many hours later, after a long night of marinara sauce and pepperoni, I head home, but as I walk toward my place, I can hear the music. I groan. The damn sorority party is in full swing this time of night. Jesus, I wish I could afford my own place.
Head down, I step inside and hurry upstairs. I knock on the bathroom door, desperate for a shower, only to be answered with giggles. Great. I stomp down the hall, go into my room and slam the door shut. I toss my purse on the bed, and flop down beside it.
Just then my phone pings, and I grab it, but when I see who the text is from, I jackknife up, my heart climbing into my throat.
Hey.
Should I answer? Maybe this is the text Jaxon had been meaning to send me all day, to exchange contact information, and he’s not looking for a response. I touch my screen, and run my fingers over that one word and a warm shiver I don’t want to feel travels through my blood. I slowly climb from my bed, and inch forward to see if he’s in his bedroom. When I catch him standing at his window, staring directly into mine, my nerves fires.
OMFG.
I inch back, and my phone pings again. You there?
I run my thumbs over the screen. Yes, just getting in from work.
I know.
My pulse jumps. How did he know? Was he waiting up for me? Wait, maybe he needed his bathroom cleaned right away or something. I did tell him anything he needed, right? But seriously what could he possibly need from me at midnight?
Sex.
Shit, don’t go there, Rachel.
Saw you coming home. Kind of noisy over there.
Worry zings through me. Are they keeping you awake?
No, I’m a night owl, and Cassie’s room is on the other side of the house. She’s asleep.
I exhale a measure of relief. I don’t want him calling the cops and bringing attention to us…to me.
I wish I could say the same. I’m never going to get any sleep.
Come to the window.
Oh, shit.
Still dressed in my ugly brown work uniform with sauce in my hair, I slowly walk to the window. My heart crashes against my ribcage as he comes into view.
I watch him as he texts me. Open it.
I slowly slide the pane up, and give a stupid wave. “Hi,” I say, feeling far too breathless when I see him standing there in nothing but his jeans.
“Hi,” he returns, and leans toward me a bit, his body lighting up beneath the big full moon.
I run my hand through my hair, painfully aware of the state I’m in. “Excuse the mess of me.” I give a nervous laugh. “I…work…Pizza Villa.” I roll my eyes. “I seriously need to find another job.”
He grins, and my blood rushes. “You look great.”
He thinks I look great!
“Yeah, well you’re only saying that because you can’t really see me in this light, and be thankful you’re not in the same room. I smell like pepperoni.”
His laugh is low, rough, like a woolen blanket being slid across my nipples. “I like pepperoni.”
“Maybe I should bottle it, use it for perfume.”
What the hell am I saying?
“Guys would go crazy.” He laughs. “We could call it Meat.”
“I think we’re on to something.”
He gestures with a nod behind him. “You want to come over until the noise dies down?”
“Oh, did you need me to clean for you? Pack Cassie’s lunch?”
“No, tomorrow is Saturday. She doesn’t have school. I thought, well, since I can’t sleep and you’re not going to get any sleep with that noise, that maybe we could watch a movie or something.”
Or something…
“I…uh…been waiting to get a shower. I wanted to get out of these clothes right away, but the door is locked and when I knocked all I heard were giggles. I don’t even want to know what’s going on in there.”
He soft chuckles curls through me and settles deep between my legs. “Sex in the bathroom at a sorority party. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
As soon as the word ‘expect’ leaves his mouth, every dirty little thing my roommates said earlier comes rushing back in a whoosh.
“… expecting you to bend over the coffee table for him.”
“…expecting you to get down on your knees and take him deep.”
I swallow. Hard.
“You can shower over here, if you want. I even have clean towels, thanks to you.”
I visualize myself in his shower, and picture the curtain sliding open and Jaxon joining me, soaping my body with those big hands and then carrying me to his bed, where he does the most delicious things to the needy juncture between my legs.
Yes, please…
But I shouldn’t get involved with my neighbor. I’m trying to keep a low profile, and he’s the kind of man that draws lots of attention. And not only do I have school to concentrate on—he’s a sexy distraction I don’t need—I don’t know him. He could end up turning out to be crazy like my ex. I’m just getting settled in here, and would hate to have to find another place to live if he turns into a crazy stalker because we got intimate.
Then another thought hits. Maybe, I’m making too much of this. Maybe he’s just being friendly, and doesn’t have sex on the brain like I do. But what if he does…
Say no, Rachel.
Say no, and go to bed with sauce in your hair.
“So what do you say?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Dammit.
4
Jaxon Jaxon
What the fuck am I doing?
Inviting my sexy neighbor over to my house is one thing, but offering up the use of my shower, well, that’s something else entirely—something stupid. Why the fuck am I pushing to spend more time with her? What we have is a business arrangement, and Cassie doesn’t
