Page 3 of Come Back to Bed
“Neither.” He doesn’t offer any more information.
“Okay. So this is the foyer. Those are the mailboxes!” I wave my hands like the candelabra inBeauty and the Beastand I’m about to belt out “Be Our Guest.”
“I won’t be here long enough to get mail.”
“Alrighty then. Marco the super lives in unit 1A over there.”
He just eyes the stairs.
“No elevator, right?”
“Yeah, it’s a pre-war walk-up. Built in 1920.”
“We’re on the fourth floor?”
“Yeah, you’ll be in apartment 4B, it’s three flights of stairs. You get used to it.”
“After you,” he says.
“Do you want me to take…” I hold my hand out, offering to take the leash.
“I got it.”
I watch his lips, waiting for them to form the word “thanks,” but those lips are glued shut. They honestly do look like they’re made for kissing, but I sort of just want to tell him to kiss my ass, throw Dolly’s key on the floor and run back to my apartment so I can get out of this damn dress.
I mean—New Yorkers have always had a bad reputation for being rude and impatient, but I rarely come across anyone here who’s actually this cold and impolite. I’m not exactly Little Miss Sunshine, but I do pride myself on being a nice person who gives people the benefit of the doubt. He’s probably just stressed about moving. So, I will give this handsome asshole nephew of my landlady another chance.
“May I ask your dog’s name?”Again.
“It’s Daisy.”
“Awww, Daisy!” I coo. “Such a sweet pretty name for such a sweet pretty girl! How old is she?”
“Five.”
“Five! Perfect! Awww, that’s the perfect age! Awwww!”
Daisy looks up at me, spins around, hops and makes a weird little cartoon alien gopher sound that matches the pitch of my “aww.”
I’m in love.
Matt McGovern clears his throat while focusing on the second-floor landing like getting up there is the most important thing in the world right now, and wouldn’t it be just great if we could make that happen immediately? He doesn’t jerk his head and whistle sharply to indicate that I should get going, but he may as well.
“Right. Well. I’m sure you’re eager to get to your new apartment.”
“It’s just temporary.”
“Yeah. So you said.” He waits for me to take the lead up the steps. I don’t know if he’s being a gentleman or if he plans to stare at my ass, or both, but I have never been so self-conscious about how I move while walking up stairs. It feels like my hips are swaying too much. I don’t want him to think I’m trying to move seductively, but I sort of have to sway my hips to lift my knees in this tight dress. Oh God—what if he thinks I changed into this dress for him?
“Um. I was just trying on this dress that I ordered online when you buzzed me. I kind of forgot you were coming when I saw the package, so I put it on. I don’t usually dress like this at home. I mean, I just got home from working all day, I don’t usually dress like this for work either. Or ever, really.” I’m babbling. What is it about exceptionally handsome silent assholes that makes people babble? I am usually so comfortable with silence. “I don’t usually get much time to shop, so when there’s a sale online I go a little nuts. I think I’ll have to return this, it’s not really me.”
“You should keep it,” he mumbles.
“What?” I don’t turn around. My hand stays on the rail and my eyes stay glued to my feet, so I don’t fall over.
“Keep it. It’s a nice dress. You look good.” He somehow manages to say those words in such a way as to make it sound like he is in no way giving me a compliment.
“Oh.” I don’t say “thank you,” because I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to be thanked, and I’m also quite certain that we already hate each other. This makes me laugh, for some reason. Again. It’s hilarious how much this person seems to offend me. I have never felt this kind of hostility towards someone I’ve just met before. Now I just want to keep talking as much as possible because it obviously annoys him.
