Page 1 of Sheets & Giggles
Ellie
The sound of footsteps fills the normally empty hall, muffled voices cutting into what is usually a completely silent time of the day. I knew someone would move in across the hall eventually, but I have to admit I was kind of hoping they wouldn’t. I’ve enjoyed having the floor to myself.
Hitting the save icon at the top of my document, I rise from my chair and move over to my front door, pressing my face up against the peephole in the hopes of learning who my new neighbor is. My fear is that it will be a family with small children who are home all day. Or worse, a couple who work all the time and leave two yappie dogs at home waiting for them. I don’t want to come across as a crotchety old woman who hates noise—I’m thirty-four, and I’ve been crotchety since I was born—but there’s nothing worse thanyip, yip, yip, piercing my ears all day. I paid a lot of money to live where I do, because I work here, rest here, do everything here. I’m a bit of a recluse. So, my home is my sanctuary, and all I need is a nice, quiet neighbor to keep it that way.
As I squint my eyes, all I really see are removal guys in navy coveralls, carrying boxes and furniture inside. I see a brown leather couch, some cherry oak bookcases, a table and chairs, and then someone moves right in front of my door, and I see nothing but darkness.
Standing straight, I let out a sigh, frustrated my spying attempts are being thwarted before I get any real information. I could just let this go and get back to work – I’m a writer who is avoiding writing at the moment – or I could do something like…I don’t know…go and check my mail.
Sure, I’d be in the way, but at least my curiosity would be satisfied. I’d get a better idea of what I’m dealing with, and then I might just be able to get a few thousand words out before the procrastination bunnies drag me away again.
Looking down at my sweats and bare feet, I contemplate whether it’s worth getting dressed like I’m going to leave the building, or whether I should just pull on my Ugg boots and make a dash for it. By the looks of that antiquated furniture, I’m dealing with an older man or perhaps a couple. People with kids wouldn’t have a couch of that high quality, and a bachelor probably wouldn’t know how to match his furniture appropriately – besides, I read enough books to know that guys who live alone get everything in chrome and black leather. The furniture I saw speaks well-read college professor or something intellectual like that.
Stuffing my feet into my fluffy pink Uggs, I grab my keys and pull my front door open, letting out a bit of a yelp when a giant of a man is standing right there, the obvious reason for my inability to see out of my peephole. He’s wearing jeans that look like they were made exclusively for him, and a white T-shirt that molds to his clearly defined torso. I let out a squeak, my eyes going wide as I lock eyes with him – two emerald green dots that sparkle with mirth and are connected to a smile that makes my panties catch on fire and fall at my feet in a pile of ash. If this is my new neighbor then holy hell, I’m gonna be spending more time looking out this peephole than I will be writing. Then how am I going to earn my money?
“Hi,” he says, his eyes doing a slow scan of me from head to toe. Now I wish I had gone and gotten changed because I have my brown hair twisted in a messy top knot, an oversized baby pink T-shirt with mysterious food stains, and grey sweats that have also seen better days. And let’s not forget the fluffy pink Ugg boots. I’ve made quite the first impression.
“Hey,” I squeak, sounding like a frightened little mouse. “I’m, ah, just going to get the mail.” I point over his broad shoulders to the stairs. He smiles like he doesn’t believe me.
“I’m Ashton,” he says, holding his hand out in greeting. “Your new neighbor.”
“Nice to meet you, Ashton, my new neighbor,” I say, slipping my hand into his large one, feeling the warmth of his touch wrap around me and travel up my arm. I do my best not to close my eyes and sigh, but this guy is something else. He looks more like one of the heroes I write about than the heroes do in my head. It’s like the writing gods have sent me a tall, dark, and handsome muse of my very own. “I’m Ellie.”
“Nice to meet you too, Ellie,” he says, slowly releasing my hand. It’s like his fingers caress the inside of my palm in an intimate way, and a shudder runs through my body. I have to lock my knees to stop myself from collapsing at his feet, grabbing his pants, and begging him to take me now. It’s possible I’ve been living in a fantasy world too long. This could get messy.Get a grip, Ellie!
“I should…I should, um…” I attempt, pointing in the general direction of the stairs again.
Ashton steps back. “Get your mail?”
“Yes. That’s right.”Oh my god, I sound so dumb right now.“Mail.”Or I could lunge forward and grab this male.
Oh my god, stop it.
He grins. “I’ll see you around…” he starts, his eyes slowly going down to my feet. I wriggle my toes as his gaze lingers there then returns to my eyes, filled with amusement. “Ellie with the fluffy shoes.”Excellent. Now I’m a joke.
I press my lips together and nod. “I guess I’ll seeyouaround too.” I try to do the same body roaming thing he did, but I just come up looking awkward. “Ashton with the broad chest.” I roll my eyes and rush past him, the sound of his laughter following behind me.Reason 352 why Ellie should never be allowed out of the house – I don’t people well.
