Page 51 of Daddy By Design

“Um.” I stood up, my sketchbook falling to the floor in front of him. For God’s sake, he was crouching right in front of me with all that going on.

Another intense moan came through the vent.

I supposed she and the boyfriend had made up, after all. Not that I’d ever heard them going at each other before.

These apartments were very well made. Save for a few occasional odd sounds through the vents, the soundproofing was A+.

My mouth dropped open. Was that a headboard banging against the wall? Was that what my headboard sounded like to her?

Not that my headboard had gotten any sort of rocking lately. And I’d been smart enough to actually bolt mine to the wall. Tricks of the trade, since not many people got to see the inside of these particular walls.

When I wasn’t in the middle of chaos, I certainly enjoyed the oasis my bedroom provided.

My eyeballs bulged as the rhythmic whacking of something against the wall echoed through my room and down the hall.

Maybe not a headboard.

Whatever they were doing was going to leave a mark.

Holy crap. Go, Amberly.

“Music?” I suggested.

Was it hot in here?

Was my voice unnaturally high?

I covered my cheeks with my hands. Could I be any redder?

Nolan straightened up to his full height. His eyebrows shot up as another shout came through the floor.

Okay. I hoped it was just sex going on down there.

“She isn’t getting murdered, right?”

“Something is getting murdered,” he muttered.

I couldn’t help but laugh. It didn’t sound as if she was in her bedroom, but the first-floor apartments were configured slightly differently from mine, so we didn’t exactly line up.

Which was why my kitchen disaster had overflowed into two of her rooms downstairs.

And the flooring hadn’t been fully patched yet, now allowing all of Amberly’s business to flood my apartment in a whole different way.

“Not sure there’s music loud enough to cover that without outing your neighbor.” His voice was deadpan, which made my embarrassment ramp up another ten percent.

I’d been pretty cool about the way I’d invited him into my bedroom without breaking a sweat.Sure, my bed was unmade, and my wall looked like I was trying out for an episode of Criminal Minds. It was all perfectly fine.

Okay, maybe I was mildly buzzing about this six-foot-three man in my bedroom. Maybe, just maybe, my once sizable and impressive bedroom currently seemed like a matchbox.

With a porn soundtrack going on around us.

It was fine.

“Davis!”

My mouth dropped open again. Amberly and our maintenance guy?

The surly, grumpy, barely said a word Davis?

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