Page 6 of Love Under Construction

My hour-long run with Peaches does nothing to mute my annoyance with Jameson though. Especially when I return to the fifth floor and come face to face with the devil himself, coming off the elevator. He’s unavoidable.

“Ugh. You. Again.” I groan when he smirks at me. “Can you do me a favor next time you have Sara over? Keep it down. I don’t need to hear what you do in your bedroom.” I spit out before my brain has a chance to stop my mouth.

Jameson edges closer to me, invading my space. “Don’t lie, you know you enjoyed it, Liv. Tell me...did you picture the two of us together? Did you touch yourself?”

“Eww.” I shove hard against his chest. “No. Hard no. I did none of those things.” My skin heats at his suggestion though.Traitor.

“I’ll have to try harder next time then,” he winks and scoots around me and giving Peaches another pat on the head before leaving me in the middle of the hallway, speechless.

I groan to myself as I walk back into my apartment and slam the door shut.

“Peaches. That man is trouble. I can’t believe you like him so much.”

So what if he occasionally walked her for me when I was stuck at school late. Or if he played fetch with her in the backyard of my childhood home. He’s still evil.

Peaches only acknowledgment to me is a huff before she takes a long drink from her water bowl and lays down on her bed.

Heading for the shower, I strip my sweaty clothes off and wait for the water to adjust before stepping inside the glass enclosure. Jameson’s words come floating back to me as I wash off. I hate myself for it but my hands start wandering, and before I know it, I’m grabbing the removable shower head and positioning it exactly where I need it most.

Blame it on the fact that I haven’t had time for any physical human interaction since moving to New York. And the fact that sex seems to be in the air around here.

It’s Jameson’s face hovering over me in my mind as I find my release and nearly collapse in a heap on the shower floor.

Fuck. I hate him.

Chapter 4

Jameson

“Hey,Jay. You still looking for a spot for your crew?” Harley steps into the kitchen dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, reaching for a cup of the coffee I brewed this morning.

“Yeah, I am. I was going to do some more searching today. You off work?” I ask.

He takes a drink from his cup before answering. “Yeah, I am. I’ll go with you if you want. I heard the guys down at the station talking about an old firehouse that’s up for sale. It might be a good investment for you. I’m no building expert, but you could use the bottom floor for your business and the bunkhouse upstairs for your guys. If you decided to stay, you could probably convert it to a pretty sweet apartment for yourself.”

Harley slips his phone from his pocket, pushes a few buttons then hands it to me. I take a look at the listing and consider what Harley’s suggested.

“You eager to get rid of me man? I’ve only been here a few days. Besides that, I don’t know how I’d make it into a residence while working on The Mason Center. I have a gut feeling I’m going to be pulling long hours as it is.”

“No rush to get you out of here man. I spent forever trying to find a roommate as is. Not many people want to room with a cop,” he shrugs. “But at some point, you know, when you get your girl, you’re going to need space. Besides, aren’t you going to need an office?”

“Yeah. This isn’t what I had in mind though,” I pause. “Is this in a safe area?” With Harley being a cop in the city, I know he knows the area pretty well. I trust his judgment on location.

“Absolutely. I’ve got a friend who can run a security system for you. He owes me a favor so I’m sure I can get you a good deal. Plus it's in my district. One of the safest around,” he laughs.

“Yeah, this looks like a pretty sweet place. No harm in at least checking it out right? I’ll call this number and see I can take a look at it today.”

“I ain’t got nothing better to do.” He finishes his coffee then rinses the cup and sets it in the sink.

“I’ll call and let you know what time we can get in.”

We get in to look at the place that afternoon. The firehouse could be perfect. Except I’m not sure, I have the budget to swing it.

“Big price tag. Plus renovations? I feel bad suggesting it.” Harley sighs as we settle into a booth at a local diner for a late lunch after leaving the firehouse.

“It is what it is. I’ll keep looking. Some of my crew is staying at a hotel, and I’ve got an interview with a temporary agency for some local help. Don’t worry about it. I knew the situation I was getting into when I got here.”

“How the hell you can swing all this is beyond me. No offense,” he says after we order our food and the waitress steps away.

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