Page 8 of Faking Romance

“Whoa!” a voice says as my eyes trail up to meet…Grayson Porter. Fuck.

“Uh, sorry, I…uh…” I trail off unsure of what to say.

“Where’s the fire?” he asks, looking around.

I frown. “I’m running up the stairs, not down.”

“Right.” He smirks.

I fight every instinct to roll my eyes. Why does this man have the uncanny ability to get under my skin? First, he starts his introduction to me with a complaint and now he has the audacity to tease me. What the hell?

I step back and his hands release me. “Well, uh, I guess I’ll see you later,” I say as I continue walking up the next flight of stairs as fast as I can to get away from Mr. Grumpypants Porter.

I get to the top landing and look around. I see a door that I think goes to Al’s apartment and then another door. I push it open and find a narrow set of stairs with a door up at the top of them. I walk up them, hoping I found the right way to the roof. How have I not explored the building yet? I’ve been here for almost two weeks.

I slowly turn the doorknob and push. A sigh of relief leaves me as I hear people chatting. The warm summer air circles around me, enveloping me like a hug. I step onto what appears to be a patio made of wood as I look around me. There’s a raised platform with a hot tub. It’s gated off and the hot tub has a cover on it. There’s a greenhouse that looks brimming with plants. There’s a covered deck area that has…an outdoor kitchen and bar. Damn, this place is great.

Al is behind the bar, with a martini shaker in one hand and a frosted glass in the other. A man sits on a barstool in front of him, and he is enormous like he could take on two or three men in a fight and win, hands down. He has blondish hair, but aside from that, all I can see is his huge-ass body.

There’s a tall man sitting next to him with dark hair. At a table near the bar, two little old ladies sit chatting with Jessa and Troy Fletcher who I already know. I’m happy to see Troy. He’s helped a lot with little things in the store that needed fixing.

I start to walk over when the door flies open, nearly sending me across the roof. I turn to find Grayson staring at me. Of course, it’s fucking Grayson Porter again. Can I not start running into another neighbor?

“Maybe try standing not in front of doors,” he suggests as he walks past me to join the other two men at the bar.

I try not to narrow my eyes at him as I begin walking over to say hi to Al O’Brien.

The door opens again and a woman with curly red hair and a short, thin man with perfectly sculpted brown hair walk through the doorway.

“Oh, you must be Roxy,” the woman says as her eyes lock with mine.

“Uh, guilty,” I answer.

She holds out her hand. “I’m Cam and this is my roommate, Drew. We live on the fifth floor in number eight. It’s nice to meet you.”

I shake her hand and then Drew’s.

“Nice to meet you both,” I reply as Carly and Ava come out the door.

“Oh good, you met Cam and Drew. Ava, go have Mr. Al make you a Shirley Temple,” she says as she pats her daughter’s butt, shoving her in the direction of the bar. I watch Ava run over and the large man scoops her up in his arms. She sits on his lap and begins speaking with the other man.

“Come on. We’ll introduce you to everyone,” Carly says as she links arms with me. “Well, everyone but Kasen. He’s away for work again. But you’ll probably see his cousin, Elliott. He feeds Kasen’s sea anemones every week.”

I stop walking. “Sea anemones?”

She nods. “Don’t ask. Kasen is…unique.” I nod and we continue walking. She takes me over to the bar.

“Hutch, Bray, this is Roxy, our newest resident and owner of what is going to be a romance bookstore.”

“Nice to meet you,” the large man says. “I’m Hutch Cromwell.”

Hutch Cromwell. Why does that sound familiar? I give him a big smile. “Nice to meet you, Hutch.”

“And I’m Brayden Murphy,” says the man next to him. I reach over Ava to shake his hand.

“Grayson,” I acknowledge my neighbor and apparent mortal enemy.

Grayson nods toward me but busies himself with his phone. Whatever.

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