Page 15 of We're One

Zach doesn’t say a word as we reach the third floor, and though I’m breathing a bit heavy, he doesn’t look like it raised his heartbeat. The man’s in ridiculously good shape. It’s not fair that some people look like him, while people like me have to watch our diets and force exercise or else look like a blob.

I open the door and am greeted with silence. I move over to the kitchen counter and find a note: Had to run out. I’ll be back in three hours. I’ll bring lunch. Love you.

My heart sinks as I realize I’m all alone with Zach in my tiny apartment. I turn to see him pulling off his jacket and reaching for the hem of his shirt. Holy hell, I’m in trouble, I’m in big-ass trouble.

Chapter Seven

Sia

When Zach’s shirt goes over his head, leaving his beautiful chest and hard abs on full display, my mouth drops and I quickly shut my lips to keep drool from spilling over. Holy hell, the man was beautiful when I was eighteen, but there’s no doubt whatsoever that he’s all man now. He’s a specimen... and I’m sure he’s well aware of it.

My gaze is locked on his chest when he speaks. There’s amusement in his tone that snaps my gaze back to his. The dang bastard knows what he’s doing to me. He’s too good. I’m going to have to be a heck of a lot stronger to survive working with this man, no doubt about it.

“Do you mind if I wash my shirt out?” he asks, that amusement coming through loud and clear. I meet his gaze and have zero doubt he’s taking a lot of pleasure in my fascination with his body. I tell myself he works out six hours a day to achieve this level of perfection.

“Um... you can use the kitchen sink,” I finally say, not at all happy with the breathy quality of my voice. He moves to the sink and I’m grateful it’s empty. Nikki does ninety-five percent of the cooking, and she loves a tidy kitchen. She always tells me she can’t create a masterpiece if her pallet is dirty.

Now that he’s not looking at me, I take a moment to stare at his back. As he moves his arms, scrubbing his shirt, his back ripples and I’m not sure what’s finer, his front or back. I can’t move for several heartbeats. The raw masculinity of the man is utterly distracting. I finally manage to tear my gaze away and move to the coffee pot, desperately needing something, absolutely anything, to get my attention away from him.

I keep my gaze on the pot as it begins brewing, the beautiful scent already soothing my frayed nerves. I don’t want to draw out this visit any longer than necessary, but realize he has a very wet shirt and won’t be going anywhere for at least thirty minutes. What was I thinking bringing him into my incredibly small space? I wasn’t thinking. I glare at the adorable puppy happily sleeping away in the sunlight streaming inside. Dang puppies and the way they melt a heart.

Reluctantly I turn. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” My voice is still a bit squeaky, but at least it’s not as breathy. I try to assure myself I’m getting used to a half-naked god in my kitchen. It’s no big deal. Happens all the time. I feel my nose growing, but push the thought aside.

“I’d love a cup,” he says, his voice cheery. The man even begins whistling a bit as he finishes washing the shirt. He begins wringing it out and I’m surprised it doesn’t dry instantly as the water pours from it. The man’s hands are strong. I remember what those fingers are capable of doing. Another shudder ripples through me as I squeeze my thighs together while liquid heat floods me.

“How do you like it?”

“Black,” he says. I nearly roll my eyes. Why do men insist on drinking coffee black? Even the best of brews are bitter without a touch of sweetness added. I remind myself how boring the world would be if we were all the same and all liked things the exact same way. That’s not a world I want to live in. I want a lot of color and sound, not just a single line on a canvas.

“Do you have a hanger? If I put this next to the window it will dry in no time,” he tells me. I set his cup of coffee in front of him then turn without another word and go to my closet, which is only a few steps away. This apartment really is too small. I come back out and hand him the hanger, my fingers trembling the slightest bit. Our hands brush, sending a jolt through my body. I’m a mess. I quickly turn away as he hangs the shirt and places it in the window. Realizing we’re going to chat with him shirtless the entire time makes me want to throw a blanket over him. If I do this, though, he’ll know how affected I am by his body. I’m not admitting it’s bothering me. That gives him a victory.

I move into the living room and settle onto the couch. I’d take a chair if I had one, but the space barely fits a couch, let alone any other furniture. There’s a small side table on either side of the couch, but not even enough room for a coffee table. It really will be great to move from here. With this job we could potentially do it sooner. Nikki’s only sticking with me because we can’t live hundreds of miles apart from each other. Her job’s portable. I’m hoping mine will be soon. To supplement her income, she has a part-time coffee house job, but again that can be found anywhere. Design, not so easy.

I need to get Zach out of my place as soon as possible, but I’m left with no choice but to entertain him for a while. I guess we can talk about work. I’m so flustered right now I have no doubt I’ll sound like an idiot and end up losing the job before it even begins. We don’t have a signed contract yet.

I look over at Honey, feeling much safer focusing on her, rather than him. I wish I was as relaxed as the darling puppy all curled up beneath the window, little noises coming from her as she happily dreams away. Running away from Zach took all of her energy.

Zach sits on the other end of the couch fortunately. It’s only a couple of feet of separation, but there’s no way I can handle our bodies touching right now. As it is, it takes all of my concentration to not let my gaze linger on the sheer perfection of the man. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye as I keep my coffee cup glued to my lips. Every line of his body is defined and tempting. I want to trace each sleek muscle on him. I clutch my cup a little bit tighter. I’m afraid I’m going to leap at him at any moment and regret it instantly.

Several agonizing minutes pass in silence but I’m not sure how to break it. Luckily, Zach saves us both. “I don’t take you as a Seattle native. What brought you here?” he asks.

I take another soothing sip of coffee, savoring the warmth and comfort it’s providing. This is something I’m more than happy to talk about. It’s inconsequential, a safe zone.

“Nikki and I wanted to get out of our small town and make something of ourselves. We felt we’d missed out on so much growing up and thought the big fancy city would be exciting so we could work and make all of our dreams come true.”

“You don’t still feel this way?”

I shake my head. “It’s taking much longer than I thought, and I now appreciate that small town more than ever. You get no privacy or peace in a city. You couldn’t get away with anything back at home, but it was different. You could still be alone there. It was exciting here at first, but that excitement has dimmed. There’s nowhere to go to have absolute silence. I miss the beach,” I admit.

“There’s nothing like the peace of waves crashing against the shore to clear a person’s thoughts,” Zach agrees. I give him a real smile, forgetting for a moment that he’s half naked.

“I’m still determined to be a world-famous decorator, and Nikki’s dream is to be a world-famous food vlogger with hordes of cookbooks and her own cooking show one day. She can do that from anywhere now that you don’t have to be in a studio to do a show. Heck, I much prefer reality TV to anything scripted. She’s great behind a camera and her love of cooking really comes through when she’s making a new dish. She’s magical with seasonings. She does most of our cooking.” I could talk about my best friend all day long. I’m very proud of her.

“So what’s been your favorite decorating projects?” he asks. I hate to admit it warms my heart that he wants to hear more about my work than Nikki’s. I’m very proud of her, but I’m proud of what I do too. Some people might find decorating an unnecessary thing, but how we feel in our homes influences our moods and our entire lives. We have to have a safe place at the end of a busy day. A beautifully decorated home makes it easier to relax. I think my services are just as important as what people consider essential jobs. Beauty is too easily dismissed, but who wants to live in ugliness?

“That’s a tough question to answer. I’ve done this all on my own. I worked for a company for about a year, but I was nothing but a grunt so decided to start my own business. Most of my jobs are pretty small, but as you saw on my website, my clients are all very happy with my work. I love transforming spaces, making them not only beautiful but functional as well, which is a big deal here where people have to live in smaller spaces. Every inch needs to count.”

He smiles. “I was lucky to never be crammed into small places. Even in college, we rented a house. My brothers and I are all big guys so the thought of a dorm wasn’t at all appealing. I know I’m spoiled, but I can’t stand being crammed into places.”

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