Page 21 of Can't Take My Eyes Off You

‘Hi, baby,’ he answers, his voice soft.

‘Someone is trying to break into my apartment,’ I whisper as the door opens.

‘Berkley, it’s me,’ he says into the phone, his voice carrying through my apartment. When he closes the door, he jumps back, noticing me standing behind it, baseball bat already in full swing.

‘Don’t hit me,’ he blurts, dropping his phone and reaching for the bat now en route to his head.

‘Fucking hell, William!’ I half yell, the bat now in his hand after a successful defensive catch on his side. ‘You finally decide to try out your key and scare the shit out of me! Why didn’t you tell me you were on your way?’ I ask, still talking into the phone as I try to recover from thinking I was moments away from being murdered.

‘You seemed down on the phone earlier so I wanted to surprise you,’ he says. ‘There was no way I could leave you here alone to ring in the new year without me.’ He glances around the apartment he’s never seen completed and smiles.

It’s one big L-shaped room, with a living room on one side and a kitchen on the other, a long island separating the two. At one end of the island are three doors. One to a bathroom. One to a closet. The other to my bedroom.

Everything in here is vintage, most things from the fifties besides the electronics. A flat-screen TV sits on a fifties box television as if it’s a TV stand. One of those arched silver ball lamps sits over the green velvet couch. A wall of bookshelves displays books in a rainbow of color. A bright pink shag rug pulls the whole colorful, retro room together. Had he lived here, maybe it wouldn’t be as girly as it is. Still, he doesn’t seem disappointed as he looks around.

I drop my phone, breathing a sigh of relief, wrapping my arms around his neck.

‘I brought fancy expensive champagne, the kind I know you love. It’s pink,’ he says as he hugs me.

I perk up. He’s enticing me with pink champagne?

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. We have to toast the new year.’

‘Right,’ I say, not letting him go when he expected me to so he continues to hold me.

‘I’m sorry I scared you. I just…’ He kisses the top of my head as I lean into him, so glad he wasn’t a total stranger. ‘God, Berx, your heart is racing.’ He has a hand on my back so he probably feels it. He pulls away, looking at me seriously. ‘You were legit terrified.’

‘I probably wouldn’t have been if someone hadn’t pounded at the door last week at like three in the morning. Was that you too?’

‘No,’ he says firmly. ‘As you reminded me recently, I’ve got a key. I wouldn’t pound on the door. Are you serious? Someone was trying to get in downstairs? In the middle of the night?’

He holds me out at arm’s length, looking me right in the eyes as we talk. Why must he be so damn handsome? I just want to shut him up by covering his mouth with mine. But nowadays I make him work for it. He no longer gets ‘easy’ Berx. It’s against the rules.

I take the champagne from his free hand and meander towards the fridge, putting the bottle in to chill before closing it and turning back to him, my kitchen island now safely between us.

‘It was probably someone headed home from the bar. I dunno. There was definitely pounding on the door, but it woke me up out of a dead sleep, so I don’t know how long it had been happening and I only heard it a couple times after that. The whole event was maybe a minute long.’

Exasperation is what his heavy sigh sounds like. ‘Youhaveto tell me stuff like this, Berx.’

‘NoI don’t becauseweare no longer an item. Had you been an intruder, you’d be headless right now. I can take care of myself.’

‘I know you can,’ he says, following behind me as I head back to my bedroom. ‘You’re fearless but I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you. I’m putting in a security system next week.’

‘You don’t need to do that.’

‘Consider it done. It’s the least I can do seeing as I worry about you.’

I roll my eyes as I crawl back into my bed, turning onto my side away from him to continue watching the countdown. The TV is the only light in my room, flashing to whatever band is now performing in Times Square before the ball drops. If he was really worried about me, he wouldn’t be living ten blocks away in a swanky apartment with his idiot brother.

Will sets the bat behind the nightstand by my side of the bed, then kicks off his shoes, pulling his wallet, keys and phone from his jeans and tossing them onto my dresser before stripping off his T-shirt. There’s a mirror on the wall I’m facing so I can see as he gets undressed, and there’s not a chance I’m looking away. He glances up at the mirror as he pulls off his pants, leaving only his boxer briefs; his eyes meet mine. He flashes me a smile that makes my insides all warm and fuzzy. I miss him.

He slips into bed with me, sliding his hand around my waist, pulling me against him, kissing the back of my shoulder where I’ve tattooed a capital W next to a black heart, King of Hearts style.

I got the tattoo when we were in college as a surprise for his birthday because I love how he kisses my shoulder when he spoons me like this, always in the same spot. He loves seeing a W for Will on me like it somehow makes me his no matter what. I branded myself before I knew we’d break up, like an idiot, and now he’s half naked and in my bed with me.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask, pretending his presence bothers me, but my body snuggles into him without me even trying.

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