“Online or in the elevator?”
I can feel my cheeks heat. “Both.”
“You didn’t have to tell me that.”
“I think honesty is always the right choice.”
“Honesty?” He mulls that over a little, his eyes staying on mine as he also takes a sip of some clear liquid over ice. “Always a good policy.”
He doesn’t seem offended when he could’ve easily been annoyed for me bringing up the fact that I was flirting with what I thought were two different men.
“I feel like I already know you, but we just met.”
“It’s weird isn’t it?” I ask. “This is unreal. We live in the same building.”
“We’ve both smuggled pets into our apartments.”
“I would move if they discovered Simon.”
“You just have to pay the front desk people to keep their mouths shut.”
I sigh, never having thought of that.
“I miss Adrian,” we both say at the same time, laughing when we realize what just happened.
“He was great,” I tell him, keeping my mouth closed about Tori, the new girl. The last thing I want to do is sound petty in front of him. Besides, maybe she was having a bad day. “Can I ask you something?”
“Ask me anything.”
“Anything? Because you may actually regret that.”
He grins, and I could stare at his pretty eyes all damn day and never get bored.
“Anything.”
“Why WASP NEST? You work in computers so you must know at least some things about him.”
“I know everything about him.” He takes another long sip, his eyes still focused on mine. “His favorite color is orange, but don’t tell his nana because she has thought it’s blue for the last twenty years. He didn’t go to college despite the rumors floating around online. He still has a full-time job that he loves most of the time, and Sprite is his favorite drink of choice.”
My eyes dart down to the clear liquid swimming in ice before darting back up to his. They sparkle, shining with mischief.
“No,” I gasp, but I can tell by the look on his face that he’s being honest. “Really?”
“Can I trust you with my secret?”
“Yes,” I pant, falling in love and resisting the urge to fangirl all at the same time.
His phone buzzes on the table several times before he decides to pick it up. I keep my eyes on him no matter how curious I am about who’s blowing up his phone.
“Damn it,” he mutters, looking down at the device. “I have to go.”
Disappointment surrounds me. I could stay here all day talking to him.
“Okay.”
“Can I walk you back?”
“Sure.” Since I know we live in the same apartment building, I don’t find the request weird.
He’s the real Wasp Nest, the guy I’ve been getting to know with daily interactions for the last month and feel completely comfortable with him. I can’t remember the last time I met someone and wasn’t swarmed with suspicion, talking myself out of letting someone get close to me because I was afraid of being used or manipulated. I don’t know what to do with the suddenly free sensations it’s causing.
As we stand, my eyes dart in the direction of Sarah, but I find she’s already gone. She must’ve gotten the same vibe off of him and left. I’m grateful for the short moments of privacy her absence is offering.
“She left about ten minutes ago,” he whispers as we press closer together to exit the bistro.
“Hmm?” I’m unable to concentrate on his words because his scent is so damn appealing. What is it about guys that smell so good?
“Your friend. She left ten minutes ago.” My brow draws closer. Sarah entered the bistro minutes before I did. How did he kn— “I’m very observant.”
His wink is devastating, a weapon, something I long to see over and over.
Without hesitation, he takes my hand as we make our way back to our building. I want to invite him up, but that would be rude since I now have a guest. Plus, he received a text and needs to be somewhere else.
“What’s your real name?” I blurt as he positions himself nearest the street.
“Wren. Wren Nelson.”
I stop, my feet refusing to move right there on the sidewalk in the middle of St. Louis. “Impossible.”
Turning to face me, his eyes dart to my lips before looking back up. The tingle the small action elicits is sigh-inducing.
“Rach?”
The lump forming in my throat refuses to dislodge no matter how many times I swallow.
“In apartment 1213?”
A small smile plays at the corner of his mouth. “Are you stalking me?”
If he only knew the truth.
“I get deliveries for you sometimes.” He stiffens as if I’ve revealed some deep dark secret. “Or rather the front desk tries to give me your packages. I’d never take anything of yours. That’s illegal.”
“Why would they—”
“My real name isn’t Rachel. It’s Whitney Nelson, and I’m in apartment 913.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“This doesn’t seem all too coincidental?”
He shakes his head, his eyes once again dropping to my lips. “Kismet maybe?”
He takes my hand, and I’m all for the moment we’re about to share, but he urges me to start moving again. Once I’m walking, he doesn’t pull his hand away. It’s warm in mine but not sweaty or uncomfortable, and that’s new for me too.
I’m feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible by the time we make it to the elevator.
He presses the call button with his free hand, using the movement as an opportunity to step even closer to me. I can hear his breathing, and I’m able to tell it’s just as ragged as mine.
“May I kiss you?” His eyes sparkle with need, and I could pull his question apart, break it down and analyze every syllable.
“Consent is so sexy,” I mutter instead, closing the few inches left between our mouths.
We don’t get filthy. There isn’t even any tongue involved, but I feel the warm, soft press of his mouth over every single inch of my body.
Wow. I’ve been missing out.
The elevator dings, urging us apart, but he presses his lips to mine once more, choosing to nuzzle the side
