Page 4 of Lovers in Lockdown

‘If you come anywhere near me with that thing, you will regret it,’ I hiss, replicating a karate stance that I once saw onKung Fu Panda.

He cocks a brow.

I growl at him with all the menace I can muster.

‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ he holds his hands up in surrender.

I don’t break from my position.

‘Why are you naked?’

‘Why areyounaked?’ he fires back.

‘I just took a shower. Because this is my apartment. And I’m allowed to take a shower in my own apartment.’

‘It’s not your apartment.’

‘What?’

‘It’s Reid’s apartment.’

I relax at the mention of my brother’s name. Unless I have dramatically misunderstood the closeness of mine and Reid’s relationship, I doubt my brother has hired this naked stranger to kill me under his own roof.

‘You know my brother?’ I hesitantly relax from my position.

‘Oh shit. Now it makes sense.’

Well I’m glad it makes sense to someone.

‘Care to fill me in?’

‘Honey, right? I mean, we haven’t seen each other since Reid and I graduated, so you would have been like eighteen, maybe? I think so. Sounds right. I didn’t recognise you. You look so different and honestly, I’m a bit disappointed that you don’t remember me, I’ve always been told that my face is hard to forget.’ He flashes me a grin so bright, it almost blinds me.

‘Right. And you are?’

‘Noah. Noah Langston.’

Well, fuck me sideways. I’ve had more sex dreams about this man than I have about Idris Elba, and that’s saying something. I only met Noah that one time at my brother’s graduation - which, coincidentally is also the last time I saw my parents - but it was enough to fuel my fantasies for at least a year afterwards. Because who doesn’t love a brother’s best friend love story? It’s basically my favourite romance trope.

But, alas, eventually I stopped thinking about my brother’s dazzlingly handsome friend with the dimples and scruffy jaw, and moved onto fantasising about other equally unattainable men, like Chris Hemsworth and Tom Shelby from Peaky Blinders.

And now, here I am, standing completely naked in front of the man I once dreamt ate whipped cream out of my belly button, mouth agape and wide eyed and wondering how on earth the events of my life have led me to this moment.

I clamp my hands across my breasts.

‘Why are you naked?’ I demand again.

‘I was gonna take a shower. Didn’t know anyone was here.’ His hands cup the anaconda swinging between his legs, possibly more for my benefit than his, perhaps because he’s worried that if I see it, I’ll start screaming again, but the rest of his body is relaxed, like he’s perfectly comfortable to be standing in front of an almost-stranger in his birthday suit.

To be fair to the guy, I would be too if my body looked as if it had been sculpted by Michelangelo.

‘Without a towel?’

‘I like to airdry,’ he shrugs. ‘What’s your excuse?’

‘Left it in the bedroom. Did the pyjamas on the bed not make you think that maybe someone was here?’

‘Thought Reid had left them out for me.’

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