Page 38 of Resisting the Grump

Hell, maybe that leash would come in handy.

T W E N T Y

- Oliver -

What a mindfuck. Of all the places she could live, why did it have to be my building? I’d only just moved in, and apart from my witchy neighbor, I liked the place. Shitting on my doorstep right now was the last thing I wanted to do. Not that we hadn’t had a great night, but liking a woman and wanting to live with her were very different situations.

No doubt it was innocent. After all, she couldn’t have known where I lived but… it was just an unnecessary hassle. To make matters worse, by failing to mention it was my building, too, I’d only delayed the awkward news.

Oh well. I’m sure I could think of an explanation for why I didn’t confess we shared an address. Like not wanting her to feel suffocated by my ubiquity or under pressure to invite me up for a drink. Not that I could’ve accepted. Being a gentleman didn’t come easily to me as it was, and I’d only pulled it off because I kept reminding myself that the filth I had planned for her wasn’t appropriate for a first date.

That said, I had to think of something because if we ran into each other now…. Damn it. It’s not like I’d lied to her. She never asked where I live. And while I assumed my omission would gift us both some breathing room, my imagination seemed determined to undermine my peace. Was she showering right now, for example? Sudsing up her smooth skin with soapy palms. Or maybe she was thinking of me with her hand between her legs and my name on her lips. The thought made me smile.

It was a small consolation, but I was glad I’d controlled myself. Because if there was one thing that benefited the appetite, it was hunger, and when the time came for me to have my way with Avery, I wanted her starving. Of course, if that kiss was anything to go by, I wouldn’t have to wait much longer. While she’d tried to mirror my restraint, there was an energy behind her lips that buzzed through my whole body like the first few tremors of an earthquake, leaving no doubt in my mind that sleeping with her would be a seismic event.

Speaking of unexpected surprises, I could’ve sworn I heard Number Seven moaning through the wall last night. The same day I suggest she rein it in, and she gets laid. Maybe the dog leash turned her on. Whatever the case, it was the first time it occurred to me that she might be under sixty, and I found the thought intriguing. Maybe she was just a young woman who desperately needed to get laid, and we wouldn’t have any further issues.

Needless to say, I was in an uncharacteristically good mood when I woke up. And why wouldn’t I be? I’d finally gone out with a woman whose company was dazzling enough to make me forget my fears and foibles. And on top of being wickedly smart and funny, she was secure enough in herself that she wasn’t intimidated by my self-assurance.

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand, but besides a few notes from Mac, there was nothing from Avery. Not that I expected there to be. She was too cool to not make me sweat a little. Or was I making her sweat? It was hard to say. All I knew for sure was that I couldn’t wait to see her again.

I skimmed the emails from Mac, wishing they read like a list of jobs I wanted instead of jobs I could do with my eyes shut, and suddenly it hit me. My new pitch. It was so clear. Just like my dad suggested. I’d have to find my moment, of course, but there was no way Mac wouldn’t be on board.

I couldn’t have been more excited if I’d been mainlining espresso, and I knew I needed to burn off the excess energy coursing through me to get grounded again. It wasn’t until I glanced from my peloton to my drum kit to my stereo that I realized what I had to do.

I pulled a T-shirt on over the beat-up jeans I couldn’t bring myself to part with and went looking for the maintenance guy. He was stuck halfway in one of the machines in the laundry room, his crack on full display. I cleared my throat. “Excuse me, Tony?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t come out of the washer.

“Can I borrow a few tools?” I asked. “I only need them for five minutes.”

He backed up and looked at me, the weight of his gaze giving me the sense he’d never lent his tools to a man without looking him in the eye.

“I just moved into number eight.”

He blinked at me.

“I noticed the door sticks on the third floor and the light flickers in the back stairwell. Do you mind if I take a look at them real quick?” I eyed the things I needed, my gaze straying from his WD40 to his selection of black and yellow screwdrivers.

“You’ll come back in five minutes?” he asked. “Because these are my personal tools, and I don’t have time to chase you down.”

I showed my palms like they were badges of honor. “I’m only asking because—”

“Five minutes,” he said, like I was boring him. Then he crawled back into the washer.

I took the tools and, quick as I could, fixed the stuck door and the flickering back light. Not only did it feel good to know Avery wouldn’t be annoyed by minor maintenance issues, but it seemed a shame to keep my good mood to myself, especially when I could use the karmic points. Plus, I liked the idea that Number Seven might have two less things to complain about.

Then I returned Tony’s tools, used the back staircase to sneak back to my place, and continued crafting imaginary texts to Avery that I looked forward to sending when the time was right.

T W E N T YO N E

- Avery -

It was nice to have Grace back at the helm. I’d enjoyed running the show for a few days, but I was delighted to be second in command again, even if I thought she’d rushed coming back in.

“How are you doing?” I asked, sidling up to her at the register moments after I caught her swallowing a yawn.

“I’m great.” She smiled at me lazily, and I could tell by her slow movements she hadn’t quite shaken her jet lag… or come down from the loved-up high she must’ve been on in Paris. “As well as relieved and exhausted.” She looked around, palpably pleased that the café was exactly as she left it. “Thanks for holding the place down so I could get away with Noah.”

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