Despite being crazy busy, the minutes drag until he sees her again at almost midnight. He finds her waiting for him in the lounge outside Billy’s Bar.
“We’ve been slammed all night,” Everett says. “I never had time to get over to the party. How did it go?”
Presley stands to face him. “Aside from a small leak in the tent's corner, everything went off without a hitch. Stella seemed pleased. I’m meeting with her at nine in the morning.” She glances at her Apple Watch. “It’s late, and it’s been a long day. I understand if you’d rather show me your building another time.”
“Not at all. I’m still wired from work. I’m game if you are.” He holds his arm out to her and she takes it.
The hallways are empty as they walk toward the front of the building. Most of the guests have retired for the night in anticipation of the big game tomorrow. The rain has momentarily stopped, and they stroll leisurely down the front driveway. They make it to Main Street before the skies open up again. Everett takes Presley by the hand, and they run two blocks to his building. They’re dripping wet by the time they arrive. Under her cashmere wrap, Presley’s maxi dress is soaked through and clinging to her curves. He can barely take his eyes off her as he leads her up the back stairs to the second floor. By the time he unlocks his door, she’s shivering. He grabs two clean towels from the bathroom, and while she’s drying off, he slips his guitar into the closet. They’ve only just met. He’s not ready to share his music with her.
“Thanks.” Presley hands him the wet towel and looks around his apartment. “Your decor gives new meaning to spartan. Where’s all your furniture?”
He laughs. “I’m a man of few needs.”
“Apparently,” she says, with her infectious giggle.
“So, there are four apartments. Mine is the smallest. The available apartment is next door.” He throws his thumb over his shoulder at the wall behind him. “If you’re interested, I’ll put you in touch with the landlord tomorrow. Basically, the unit is a one-bedroom, thousand square foot version of mine with heart pine floors, oversized windows, and exposed brick walls. Girls go nuts over exposed brick walls.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “And men don’t? Brick walls add character.”
He gestures at his air mattress. “Obviously, I know nothing about interior design.”
She wanders over to his galley kitchen. “What do you remember about the kitchen in the available unit?”
“It’s larger than mine.”
She turns to face him. “Yours isn’t technically a kitchen. It’s a stove built into a counter in the corner of your apartment. What about the appliances next door?”
“All new. The landlord has owned the building for decades, but he only recently converted this floor into apartments.”
Moving to the window, she looks out at the rainy night. “Have you tried any of the restaurants on Main Street?”
He goes to stand behind her. “A few of them. I spend most of my time at the inn. If you don’t mind the college crowd, Town Tavern”—he nods at the restaurant across the street—“has excellent bar food.”
Everett breathes in her scent. She smells like lemons and summer rain showers. She turns around and they’re face-to-face, their bodies inches apart. Leaning down, he brushes his lips against hers. She tastes delicious, like dark chocolate and strawberries, and he’s hungry for her. He teases her lips open with his tongue, and she presses her body against his. When she wraps her arms around his neck, he’s all over her, hands on breasts and sliding down to her thin hips. He wants her more than he’s ever wanted any girl. His bed, such as it is, is merely feet away. He could strip off her clothes and have his way with her. He hasn’t had sex in six weeks. The last time was with Carla. The thought of his old girlfriend, his friend with benefits, brings his desire to an abrupt end.
He’s about to push Presley away when she beats him to it.
“I’m sorry, Everett. I don’t know what got into me. I’m not in a good place right now. My life is . . . um . . . complicated.”
Hands in the air, he takes a giant step backward. “No problem.”
“I’ve offended you. I’m sorry, Everett. It’s not you. Really. It’s me.”
Is he offended? A little, maybe. Mostly he’s relieved. He has his own complicated life to sort out. Besides, he might only get one chance with Presley, and he doesn’t want to screw it up. “No worries. I totally understand.”
She holds her hand out to shake. “Friends? I could really use one right now.”
Everett takes her hand in his. “Friends.” As the words leave his lips, he realizes that a friend is what he needs right now too. He’s tired of going it alone. His gut tells him he can trust Presley. Maybe she can help him figure a way out of the mess he’s made of his life.
A gust of wind drives heavy rain against the window. “Ugh!” Presley says. “I hope this town has Uber.”
“If you want to call it that. We have only a handful of drivers, and the service is spotty. Don’t worry. I’ll take you back in my truck.”
She appears relieved. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Positive.” He flashes her a grin. “What’re friends for?”
Helping her into his only raincoat, he pulls a baseball cap over his head and shows her down the backstairs to the parking lot. They make a run for his truck. Fortunately, it’s raining too hard for Presley to notice his Georgia license plate. They’re soaking wet again, and it takes a minute for the heat in his clunker to come on.
Once they’re on the way, he asks, “Did seeing the building help you decide about the job?”
“Yes and no. Based on yours, I’m sure the available apartment is lovely. The location is ideal. But I don’t
