Page 9 of Man Cuffed
As I tuck myself into the corner of the elevator, I realize two things. One, there’s a heady scent of masculine aftershave in the elevator. Like leather and strength. I sense the dude’s attractiveness the way that characters in movies sense dead people: I justknow. And two, I can’t push the elevator button.
“Could you punch five for me?” I murmur. I hope he can hear me through the pounding of my heart and the rustling of fronds.
“I’m on five too,” he rumbles. And I meanrumbles. I feel his voice in my loins and that’s when I suddenly understand.Holy shit—I’m sharing the elevator with my neighbor. The one who has loud sex with great frequency on the other side of my wall.
“Five,” I breathe, as if it’s something sexy. Because right now it is.
“You must be my new neighbor,” he says.
How does he know that? Has he been listening to me too? I do a quick inventory of the week’s activities. I ate a lot of Greek yogurt and watched some TV. It could be worse, I suppose. There was also that reenactment of a fight scene fromStar Wars. Hopefully he didn’t misinterpret the grunting.
“How’d you know?” I ask.
“There’s only one other apartment on our floor, and that one belongs to Miss Havisham.”
Ohhhhh. He’s literary. “Miss Havisham?” I ask.
“Well, I don’t know her real name. She doesn’t introduce herself when I say hello. But I’ve only ever seen her in slippers. You’re not wearing slippers.”
“Of course not.” I’m wearing kickass fuck-me boots. Just, you know, what I wear when I’m running out to get pizza or an enormous plant for my sad, blank apartment.
“Look,” he says. “If you hear comings and goings in my apartment at night—”
I freeze. Are we going to discuss his sex life right now? Omigod!
“—Just know that I’m a cop. I work weird shifts, okay? I’ll try to be quiet, but sometimes I roll in at five a.m.”
“A cop…” I breathe. And then something clicks. That voice. That heady, masculine scent. The elevator lurches. I readjust my grip on the plant. But I’m losing my grip on reality. Because now I know who my new neighbor is.
“The name is Maguire. Or just Mac.” He then parts my fronds with his big hand.
Mmmm. He parts my fronds. That sounds dirty.
Focus, Meg! He wants to shake hands!
But I can only stare at the big hand in front of my face. “Kinda holding an enormous plant here.”
I hear him chuckle, and then the weight of the plant is lifted away from me as he grabs it with only one arm. Then he offers me his hand to shake again. And I notice his foot is already holding the door of the elevator open, ensuring that it won’t close on us.
What a great neighbor I have! This dude has the sexiest voice on the planet, he grunts while fucking, and his limbs are multitalented.
Our hands clasp. And that’s when I feel it—that crackle of tension. We have the kind of instant chemistry that’s hard to ignore. I’m too young to have hot flashes, but when his thick fingers close around my hand, I feel a surge of heat and awareness. An actor’s first job is to notice people, so I know chemistry when I see it.
And so does he. Our gazes lock, and his is very familiar. But now there’s recognition dawning there. “It’syou.” The words come out soft and low. “The Wench.”
“Hi, Chippendale,” I whisper.
He grins. He’s still holding my hand. Neither one of us wants to let go. I look down at our joined hands, and he does that trick with his thumb, where he slips it past the pulse point on my wrist.
Oh my. This is wonderful. This is also terrible. My neighbor is a sexy cop. A sexy cop with agirlfriend.
Just like that, I take my hand back. As we both step out of the elevator, I whip out my keys, so I can reclaim that plant and cool my head. And other body parts.
When I moved home to Michigan, I vowed never to date, screw, or flirt with anyone who was attached in any way. My ex turned out to be married, and I’m never making that mistake again. This is new Meg. Meg 2.0. Meg who-is-thirty-and-done-with-losers. And I’m ready for a real commitment.
I unlock my door in record time. “Thanks for holding that. I can take it from here.”
“Nah, I got it,” he says, stepping right into my apartment, uninvited.
