Page 38 of Sweeper
“I didn’t take you for a cosplay girl, but this image right here has unlocked a whole new catalog of you in my mind.”
A dirty look flits across his face, and I reach out and smack him on the chest, not at all noticing how firm it is. “Stop it. Stop whatever is going on in that thick head of yours. I’m just…protecting myself.”
“From an epic paintball battle?”
“From that bloody mouse you brought into our building. I’ve actually caught the little bugger, and now I’m trying to get rid of it.”
“What mouse?” Zander asks with a look of confusion.
I turn around to check the trap, and my stomach sinks with despair when I see the mouse hotel door somehow opened in the scuffle, and the little beast is gone forever now. “Oh Zander, this is all your fault again!”
“My fault? I was just standing here! You were the one who flipped out.”
“I didn’t flip out. The mouse flipped out. Scared the bloody life out of me.” I place a gloved hand on my chest and feel my heartbeat thundering beneath my palm. “What are you doing sneaking around behind people when they’re working?”
“I didn’t know you worked in pest control,” he replies with a laugh, and an affectionate look casts over his face as he stares back at me. “I thought maybe that zombie apocalypse was happening out here after all, so I came out to investigate.”
I shove my sunglasses on top of my head and hate the fact that he’s seeing me in this state while he’s standing over there in sexy jeans and a fitted green T-shirt that really brings out the mossy color in his eyes.
I swallow the knot in my throat as I look away and yank my yellow gloves off. My palms are sweaty, and this poncho is causing my body to break out in a nervous sweat. Or maybe that’s Zander.
“You sounded good in there earlier, by the way,” Zander says, his voice soft and soothing like melted chocolate as he points at my flat door.
My face falls. “You could hear me?”
He nods and smiles. “Yeah, thought it was a radio at first until I heard you muttering and cursing.”
I cover my eyes with my hand. “I didn’t think you were home, or I wouldn’t have rehearsed in the loo.”
“Pretty sure my alarm issue earns you unlimited bathroom rehearsals…if that’s your thing.” He shrugs and shoots me a rueful smile.
Rubbing my lips together, I reply, “It’s where I like to rehearse.”
“Because the acoustics are wicked,” he confirms.
I roll my eyes. “This is embarrassing.”
“What?”
“This.” I gesture to my outfit. “You seeing me like this, hearing me sing…Sunday night.”
“Sunday night was embarrassing?” His face goes serious as he steps closer to me, and I get a whiff of his body soap that I desperately want to rub my face into.
“Sunday night was mortifying!” I shove my hand into my hair and realize I stuck my pen back in there before. My God, I’m giving him a lush view to feast on. “I don’t know what came over me. One minute, I was mad at you, and the next minute, I was—”
“Shock tonguing me?” he finishes with a laugh and then reaches out to touch my arm. “I wasn’t mad about it.”
“I was.” I jerk back, needing space between us because clearly, I’m not someone who can be trusted around the likes of Zander Williams. I cringe as I recall the stunned look in his eye when we broke apart for the first time, and I thought the kiss wasn’t consensual. What a horrible, horrible fear to even consider. “That wasn’t the way I wanted to start this.”
His brows shoot into his hairline. “There’s a this?”
“No,” I bark and expel a nervous seal-like laugh, moving even farther away. “Clearly not.”
He moves with me, his hands reaching toward me again. “There could be a this.”
“But I don’t want a this.” I do a small circle with my hand between us. “I want a that,” I say, pointing at my flat. “And a that,” I state, pointing toward Old George out the side window. “And I want to take care of this.” I point at the mouse trap and sigh heavily. “My plate is full, sothisshould not happen.”
“What isthisthat you’re even referring to, Ducky? This doesn’t have to be something to add to your list of things that stress you out. This can be easy. This can be casual. In fact, casual is kind of my specialty.” He grips the back of his neck, and a look of nervous hope flits across his face. “Plus, we’re neighbors, so the convenience factor should not be ignored.”
