Grumpalicious by Mia Faye

Chapter 2

YVETTE

For people who lived in two separate buildings, Cameron and I bumped into each other a lot. Chance encounters unless they weren’t. I was beginning to get the impression he was planning these random meetups, that he had figured out my schedule and was availing himself at crucial points so he could make me hyperventilate.

It made sense because the first time it happened, I was leaving the apartment to go to the grocery store, and I literally walked into him outside the building.

“You never look where you’re going, do you?” he asked me.

I blinked up at his sweaty face. “I try, but there’s this lump of a guy who keeps crossing my path.”

“Or is it you who keeps crossing his?”

“Hmm. Let’s see.” I looked from left to right and then back to the entrance of the building. “I may be wrong, but don’t you live in that building over there?”

Cameron smiled his annoyingly charming smile. “Hmm. You may have a point.”

“And why are you always out running?” I asked. “It’s the middle of the day!”

“Who says I’m out running?” Cameron said, adopting what he imagined to be a mischievous expression. “Maybe I just wanted to arrange an accidental run-in with the cute new neighbor.” He said it with such casual confidence, in an almost throwaway fashion. Right away, I felt my cheeks start to heat up.

“And what would be the objective of this run-in?” I asked him in a low voice. I hadn’t even noticed it, but we were very close to each other. I could feel the heat coming off his body, could smell his aftershave, and the slightest hint of sweat. It was incredibly intoxicating.

“Oh, you know how it goes,” he said. “A couple of accidental meetings and who knows where things could lead.”

“Right.”

“Besides, if she happens to be clumsy and prone to dropping things, I figure I should be there to help her out, you know?”

“Surely there’s an easier way to keep tabs on her,” I said, feeling bold and a bit reckless.

“Oh? Do tell?”

“You could get her number, for example, and any time she’s heading out, she would notify you, and you could time your run-ins a bit better.”

“Excellent idea.” He pulled his phone from his sweatpants and handed it to me. I typed my number in with trembling fingers and gave it back to him.

“Alright, then,” Cam said, pocketing the phone and giving me a genial pat on the shoulder. “See you next time.”

Next time happened to be a few days later.

I knew it was him even before I heard the knock on my door. I was new in the neighborhood; I didn’t have any friends to visit. I had just finished unpacking my bedroom, the last step to moving in completely. I was panting, a sheen of sweat glistening on my forehead when I went to get the door.

Cameron was hidden behind a medium-sized white box. He looked me over with the laser-focused intensity I had come to expect from him, and I felt the way I always did when he looked at me; like he was seeing right through my clothes. Not that he needed any help to do so. My top was sticking to my skin thanks to the sweat, and I had on the smallest short shorts I owned.

Cam hesitated, his eyes doing a little flick down to my legs and then traveling slowly upward. It was quite the rush, knowing I had at least stunned him, even if only for a moment.

“Hey, neighbor,” I said.

“Hey,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “I uh… I brought you a cake. Welcome gift, you know. I wanted to go with the traditional home-cooked meal, but I’m not much of a cook.” He flipped the box open, and I stood on tiptoe to see inside.

“I hope you like blueberry.”

“Thanks,” I said. I took the cake and stepped aside to let him in.

He walked into the apartment and started to look around. It was a small space, probably much smaller than his own place, but I had done my best to maximize the space. My couch was in one corner of the room, across from the small TV Tyler had gotten me as a going-away present, and which I was still trying to figure out how to mount. The rest of the room was filled with a random assortment of things; a small bookshelf, another shelf with records, the entirety of my painting collection, still lined against the walls while I decided how and where to put them up, and my little makeshift office in the far corner of the room.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Cameron commented, nodding his approval. I couldn’t figure out whether he was being sarcastic.

“Uh, thanks. I was just finishing up unpacking if you can believe it.”

Cameron shrugged. “Moving is tedious.”

“So tedious. I don’t know why I thought it would be simple.”

“Movies?”

“Right. And sitcoms.”

“Do you need some help?”

“Oh.” Why did I always blush in front of the man? “I was… I mean, I don’t want to keep you.”

“No, no, it won’t be a problem. So, what are we unpacking? Kitchen? Bathroom?”

“Bedroom,” I said.

Cameron’s lip twitched, and his tone immediately turned flirty. “I wouldn’t mind helping you out in the bedroom.”

“It’s mostly just clothes, to be honest,” I said. I didn’t know what I was playing at; I was not ready for that man to see my bedroom.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s just a bunch of clothes I need to fold. But thanks for offering.”

Cam nodded. He took a few steps toward me and leaned in to whisper into my ear. “You have stunning legs, Yvette. They’re quite the distraction.”

I blinked and swallowed hard, unsure how to react to that. But I didn’t get a chance to. Cam sidestepped me and made for the door, and he was gone before I could even thank him for the cake.

I thought about his comment a lot for the rest of the day. And his behavior toward me. I hadn’t known what to make of it that first time we met, but now I was sure of it. We seemed to have a playful banter, one that had apparently evolved into outright flirting. I didn’t mind that one bit. Cam was a great-looking guy. The thing I had trouble with was how much he seemed to affect me.

I had always been shy and introverted. Mousy, almost. But with Cam, I found myself bolder, more willing to say and do things I would otherwise never have considered.

Several times I found myself thinking of him; random thoughts that would just pop up in my head. I found myself remembering his stare and the silent promise in his eyes when he looked at me. Or his sweatpants, which were always just tight enough that I could see the outline of his strong legs, and much more. I thought about his voice, low and intimate and manly, and his lips, whispering compliments right against my ear.

It was a very long day. I finally finished unpacking late at night and sat down to admire my handiwork. I wasn’t going for a replica of my old apartment, but it came pretty close. It didn’t feel like home yet, but it looked like it. I could definitely get used to living here.

My eyes fell on the cake, still on the coffee table where Cam had left it. I got up and went into the kitchen, picked out a plate and some cutlery. I stacked the plate with a generous slice, and then on a whim, pulled a chair up to the window and drew the curtains aside slightly.

I had no difficulty locating Cam’s apartment. I had been looking out every day, trying to catch him doing something I could then make fun of. But I had only seen him once, for a brief moment in the morning, before he closed the window.

I bit into a forkful of the cake and let out an involuntary sigh. It was creamy and soft and full of flavor. I made a mental note to ask Cam where he got it.

My wait was rewarded after about ten minutes. I saw a flash of motion, and then the curtains to Cam’s bedroom window flew open. My heart leaped into my mouth, and I instinctively drew my own curtains back, terrified that he had seen me. I waited for a few breathless seconds, and then I stuck my head back around the sheer fabric. I couldn’t see into his bedroom too clearly, but I could make him out, or at least his body. He was topless, and from the way he was sitting up and then lowering himself out of sight, I gathered that he was working out.

His body was exactly as I had imagined it would be. Chiseled, athletic, extremely easy on the eye. I stared at him so absentmindedly that I didn’t notice the fork slip out of my hand. The sound of it clattering to the floor brought me back to earth, and at the same moment, I felt my phone begin to vibrate in my pocket.

I smiled when I saw his name on the screen. “Hello?” I said.

“I know a spot with a much better view,” Cam said. I looked out the window at his apartment; he had stopped working out and was leaning against the window, looking right in my direction.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said.

“You might want to get your eyes checked. You shouldn’t have to squint, you know. It’s not good for your eyes.”

“Oh, you think I was watching you? From my window?”

“I’m fairly certain, yes.”

“You’re mistaken, sir. I was actually watching the old lady a few windows down from yours. I didn’t even notice you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you wouldn’t notice if I did… this?”

As I watched, he reached down and tugged at the strings securing his sweatpants. My breath caught in my throat. He pushed the pants off slowly, letting them roll off his hips and drop to the floor, then stepping out of them one leg at a time. He was left with nothing but boxers, tiny, perfectly fitted boxers that left nothing to the imagination. I pressed my thighs together, suddenly very hot.

“You know, I think you’re right. I can’t see anything from this far out. You mentioned something about a spot with a better view?”

“I did. I could show it to you if you want?”

“Show me the spot, you mean?”

“That too, yes.” He paused while I was still trying to get my brain to formulate words. “Ah, well,” Cam said. “I guess it doesn’t matter since you were really looking at old Mrs. Witten in the apartment below.”

“But if I wasn’t…”

“Then I would ask you to come over, in that sexy little slip you’re wearing, and I’ll give you a tour of my bedroom. Views and all.”

There was something so sexy about how cocky he sounded, how assured he was. He knew I was attracted to him. He knew that there was no way I was going to say no. A delicious tingle was spreading from between my legs, pulsing outward to every nerve in my body. I stood at that window, staring out at the half-naked man across from me, and I knew the decision had been made long before he even asked.

I dropped the plate on the table and left the house right as I was. Partly because I was afraid if I hesitated, I would change my mind, but mostly because of the anxiety that was slowly starting to creep in. Or was that excitement?

The wind billowed against me as I crossed to the other side, and my nightgown danced merrily around my ankles. Yet the chill never really registered.

By the time I got to his door, the panic had grown tenfold, and I considered for the first time that this was a bad idea. I lifted my hand to knock, paused, then let it drop. This was definitely a bad idea. I wrapped the nightgown around my body, shook my head, and started to turn away.

The door swung open before I could leave, however. And there he was. He hadn’t bothered to put anything else on; he was still in those impossibly sexy boxers and nothing else. He had been right, I thought. The view was way better up close.

I meant to say something, was going to protest somehow. But he stepped forward, and his hand snaked around my waist, and the next thing I knew, I was being pulled into the apartment. My legs left the ground, and I was being lifted, and then Cameron’s lips were crushed against mine.