Page 11 of The Watcher's Bride

Her eyes are even brighter in the daylight. The sweater she wore tried to hide the curve of her waist, but I saw it—justlike I saw the flicker of something in her eyes when our hands touched. Not recognition, not exactly. But something.

Curiosity. A spark. Something I could work with.

I shouldn’t want her this much. I shouldn’t be dreaming about her every night. I shouldn’t be finding excuses to touch the box she touched or breathe the air she just exhaled. But here I am, unpacking my things like I’m a normal guy, all the while replaying the exact shade of pink that flushed her cheeks when she looked at me.

She doesn’t date, she said.

Perfect.

There’s no one to interfere. Just her. And that cat. Josef likes me. Climbed right into my arms like we were old friends. He’s smart, that one. He knows I belong here.

I sit on the floor of my new apartment, boxes still sealed, not caring that I haven’t made the bed or unpacked anything but my surveillance gear. I’ve set up sound monitors and signal blockers. No one will hear anything they’re not supposed to. Not from my side of the hall.

I close my eyes and picture her face. That half smile she gave me when I carried the box for her. The way she tried not to stare. The careful wall she’s built around herself.

I’ll climb that wall. I’ll charm her, tease her, study her. And when the time is right, I’ll be on the other side. I’m not sure how I’m going to do it, but I’ve already decided.

Nora is mine, she just doesn’t know it yet…

Chapter 9

Nora

Ipull out my phone and call Nadya, desperate to tell her everything.

“Hello,” she answers, and from the groggy sound of her voice, she’s still in bed.

“You sound chipper. How was Mr. Nice Butt last night?” I ask, using the nickname she’d given the man she took home.

“Pretty fucking fantastic. I didn’t stay the night, but we did the deed three times.” Nadya proceeds to explain in great detail her sexual exploits from last night, leaving nothing out. Honestly, sometimes I’d rather she didn’t go into such detail, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate being able to live vicariously through her. It also helps to provide me with some fantasy material for when I’m feeling horny. I might not be interested in being intimate in real life, but I’m all for the fantasy and getting myself off.

“Anyway, he’s taking me out tonight to see a band in the East Village,” she finishes, pulling my thoughts back to the conversation.

Damn, there goes my plan of hanging out with Nadya. I literally have no other friends, and there’s no way I’m calling Mike and suggesting we hang out. It would give him the wrong impression. I guess I’m just going to have to pretend to go out and stay quiet in the hope that my hot new neighbor won’t notice I lied.

“Sounds fun. I’m impressed he’s succeeded in becoming more than a one-night stand. Good for him,” I gently tease.

“Don’t get too excited, you know me, I never turn down free tickets to gigs,” Nadya replies. “Anyway, what’s up? You sound bright and breezy, I don’t know how you don’t get hangovers, it’s not fair,” she says, and I can picture her pouting like a child.

“Just lucky. But guess what, someone’s finally moved into Josef’s place.”

“Ooh, a new neighbor. Have you met them yet? What are they like?” Nadya asks eagerly.

“I bumped into him in the hallway when I was coming back from the store,” I say, relaying how my bag had split, and he helped me pick up my stuff. I deliberately leave out the mention of how I was ogling his junk, Nadya would have a field day with that one.

“Is he cute?”

“He’s more than cute, he’s super-hot,” I reply with a sound that falls somewhere between a frustrated groan and a longing sigh.

“Oh my god, tell me everything!” Nadya squeals, and I launch into a long description of what he looks like and answer her probing questions as she dissects the entire encounter.

As I anticipated, she approves of my decision to pretend to be busy tonight. “You could come to the gig with us,” she offers.

“Hmm, what would be worse, being caught in a lie by my hot neighbor or watching you tongue wrestle Mr. Nice Butt all night?” I reply with a laugh.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” she wheedles.

“I’ll think about it,” I tell her, both of us knowing I’m more likely to be inclined to hide on the sofa in silence reading all night than go be a third wheel in a busy club.

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