“Cynthia, you’re not responsible for stuff like that, I’m the landlord.” I give her a smile. “Not everything is something you’re being graded on.”
Cynthia doesn’t smile back. “Ok, I get it, I’m not totally obsessed with my GPA, alright?”
I can tell by her huffy reply that I’ve hit a sore spot. I wince inwardly. So much for cheering her up.
I open the water closet as she stands behind me and crosses her arm.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tease,” I say.
“It’s ok,” Cynthia says. “I’m being sensitive.”
“Anything you wanna talk about?” I speak carefully, as I don’t want to push her or cross any lines.
“I’ve just had a long day.” Cynthia lets out a huge sigh. “And everyone is always telling me I’m too uptight.”
I want to reach out and ease her tension. Instead I keep my eyes on the water heater. As I suspected, a pipe just needs to be tightened.
“I don’t think you’re uptight,” I say. “You work hard, but there’s nothing wrong with that.”
When I turn around, she’s looking down at me with the oddest expression in her face. For a second, I think she might cry, as her eyes are going wide. Instead, she just nods and smiles. “Thank you for saying that.”
I shrug and stand up. “Should we go make sure it’s working?”
She blinks. “That’s all? You were in there for like 5 seconds?”
“Well, I’m not positive I fixed it,” I say with a chuckle.
“You probably did,” she says. “I’m hopeless when it comes to this stuff.”
“Hey, we all have our skills,” I say. “I’ll know to call you when I need surgery to get my gallbladder removed.”
Cynthia laughs, and the sound sends a jolt of desire through me. Her voice is level and even, but her laugh is rich and bubbly and warm. She tips back her head a bit, and I see the elegant line of her smooth neck. She’s so beautiful right now, just as she is, in her comfortable clothes and bare feet.
I blink and focus on the bathroom. It’s clean, which I of course expect from her. It smells faintly floral, just as she does. I know I’ve got it bad for her because even the sight of her green toothbrush in a little blue mug is turning me on.
I glance over at her as she reaches to turn on the shower. When she lifts her arm, I see even more of her stomach, and I force my eyes up to her face. She turns on the shower and then leans back, tucking a long dark strand of hair behind her ear as she does so. I’m captivated by the curve of her jaw line where it meets her neck. I want to run my finger gently across her skin.
When she turns to me, I make a spur-of-the-moment decision. I’m done holding back. I’m done pretending to be interested in her only as her landlord and no more.
“So tell me more about these people accusing you of being uptight,” I say. “I’m pretty sure it’s part of our rental agreement that I should go yell at them for you.”
Cynthia blinks in surprise before tipping her head and smiling. “I don’t really remember that part of the fine print.”
“Well, I’m pretty positive it was in there.” I grin down at her before reaching out to test the running water. It’s warm. I instantly start trying to find something else to fix. We’ve never gone down this path of overt flirtation before. It was like yesterday I opened the door a crack, and now I can’t close it.
It feels dangerous but also exhilarating.
Cynthia seems unsure about how to proceed. She shrugs and her smile fades.
“I don’t want you to yell at anyone,” she says. “My friends just worry that I’m missing out on the fun of my youth or whatever.”
She glances up at the shower, as the water splashes into her sink. Her mind seems to be far off. The water is definitely hot now, but she doesn’t move to turn it off.
I take a small step forward.
“Well,” I say. “Are you?”
Cynthia blinks at me from behind her glasses. Her full lips press together and then open. I follow her every miniscule movement, waiting for her next words.
“Am I what?”
“Missing out,” I say.
For a long moment, she keeps her eyes on mine, and I think she’s going to say yes. I think, for just a second, she’s going to step towards me and ask me to show her if she’s been missing out.
But instead, she breaks eye contact and looks back towards the shower. I avert my gaze down to the floor. I went too far. She’s not interested in continuing down this road. Or, if she is interested, something is holding her back.
“Well, the shower is fixed,” I say. “But while I’m here, I’ll just check the water pressure of the sink, it can get a little sketchy.”
I kneel down and peek under the sink. I have no idea how the sink’s water pressure is, but I want to move on from my attempt at flirting. I want to reel everything back to the sedate landlord-tenant relationship.
Or rather, I don’t want to do that, but I feel it’s probably the right thing to do in this situation.
I think it’s what she wants as well.
But as I kneel down under the sink, I can feel her eyes searing into my back. There’s heat in her gaze. And I’m not so sure she wants to go back to the safe ground. I can sense her inner turmoil. She is considering taking the risk.
I’m not going to make her bolt. She has to come to it on her own. I’m sensitive to her every movement, as if I’ve been hardwired to detect every slight shift in her movement, every breath she takes.
“Maybe I am missing out.”
My back is towards her, but her voice is low and sultry. She’s using a tone I’ve never heard before, and
