Page 25 of Christmas Candy

Holy shit.Did he know I was there? I’d watched him for months, ever since he’d moved in right at Thanksgiving. But I was always careful, never meeting his eye on the few occasions when we’d passed in the hall or the lobby. I was far too shy to ever really look at him, much less speak to him.

I turned and took the few steps to my couch before sinking down and dragging my laptop over. I went to his Twitter, wondering if he’d posted anything new in the past hour. Nothing. I drummed my short nails on the computer before clicking over to his Instagram. There were two new photos – both models he’d no doubt been shooting for the morning. They were perfect, lying on a bed in their bras and panties while staring lustfully at the camera.

Looking down at my curvy frame, completely devoid of ink or anything extraordinary, I realized for the millionth time that I didn’t have a chance with Michael. He was chiseled and lean, with dark hair and deep green eyes. His pierced eyebrow and motorcycle only added to his mystique. He was intensely gorgeous, untouchable. More than that, he was an artist with a bigtime reputation for his ability to take amazing photos. Not to mention, he had a dark past. My past was boring and would likely put a man like Michael Williams to sleep.

The lusty models stared back at me, but really, they were staring at Michael, at his amazing body and intelligent eyes. I flipped the laptop closed and leaned back, glaring at the ceiling and trying to shake my obsession with my neighbor. It hadn’t worked yet.

I checked my phone.Shit.I was going to be late for class. I darted up and went to my bedroom, throwing on a v-neck long sleeved t-shirt, jeans, and some tall boots. After brushing my teeth and hair, I grabbed my jacket and messenger bag.

I barreled out my door, slammed it closed, and turned to lock it.

“Hi.”

I looked up slowly, the hair on the back of my neck standing at attention. He was behind me. Michael was in the hall. Behind me. Talking to me.Oh my god.I stared at my door, frozen to the spot. How long had he been standing there? Seconds, minutes, hours? I had no idea. I forced myself to breathe.

“Are you okay?” A smile was in his voice.

I focused on the peephole. I was on the wrong side of it.

“I-I . . .”

“What’s you name?” The floorboard creaked behind me.

“My name?” Fog swirled around my brain.

He chuckled, a low sound that made my stomach clench. “Yeah, what’s your name?”

“Jess.” I wanted to turn and look at him, but I couldn’t. I already knew every line of his face, his neck, his arms. But what would he think if he saw all of me?

“Short for something?”

Did he just call me short? “What?”

The floorboard creaked again and his shadow fell against the wall next to me.

“I mean, is your full name Jessica?”

“Yes.” I swallowed hard and turned my head toward him, even though I knew it was a mistake.

“I’m Michael.”

I know.He moved so he leaned against the wall next to my door, his broad chest taking up every bit of real estate my eyes could see. I looked up, past his adam’s apple, the tip of his chin, his full lips, and aquiline nose until I was looking into his eyes. They sparkled as if with some private joke. He was laughing at me, just like I’d feared.

I dropped my eyes and frowned at my plain clothes and my body. Then I turned on my heel before striding away to the elevator. I may not have been a model, but I had some pride left.

“Wait.” His voice radiated confidence, a tantalizing smile still woven into the sound.

I sped my pace and stabbed the down button on the elevator. I could feel him behind me, following me at a leisurely pace like the killer in a slasher flick. He stopped a few paces at my back.

“Where’s the fire,Jess?” He put a hiss at the end of my name that had heat bursting in my cheeks.

“I’m late.” My voice came out more harshly than I intended. I just wanted to escape him, to get behind my door and watch him, to follow his social media, to dream about his body, his mouth. I wanted my fantasy Michael to stay firmly in place, because I knew the real Michael would never be interested in me.

“For what?” He took a step nearer. I could feel his body heat against my exposed neck. He was close, too close.

“Class.”

“Do you pay as close attention in class as you do around here?” He was right behind me.

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