Blue Colla Make Ya Holla (33 page)

“That would be me.” My eyes slowly followed a path from the boots to the jeans, which hugged a set of muscular thighs, to the pale blue t-shirt that was tight enough to hint at the solid chest underneath but still left something to the imagination. After being briefly distracted, I found the source of the smooth, deep voice. His lips were perfect, not too thin and not too full, and the dimple in his chin was designed to be licked. I hadn’t yet made it past admiring his strong jaw covered in day-old stubble when he spoke again. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?”

The tall man carefully climbed over a stack of boxes until he was in the general vicinity of where my phone had crash-landed. When his tight ass came into perfect view as he bent over to pick it up, the throbbing in my foot unexpectedly vanished and was replaced with a mysterious warming sensation in places I didn’t want to acknowledge. Watching the muscles in his back flex underneath the now stretched cotton of his shirt didn’t help my predicament in the least. I couldn’t tell if the definition was the result of hours in the gym or some sort of physical labor, but it didn’t matter; every inch of his body was absolutely perfect.

He turned and looked at me through long, thick lashes that outlined his beautiful deep brown eyes. God must have taken the schematics from my head and used them to create my ideal man. Right about then, I realized there was something about him—something I couldn’t quite put my finger on—that felt comfortable…familiar even. There was no way I’d met him at work—a man like him would have definitely made a lasting impression. Only one guy had ever caught my attention there, and my attraction to him wasn’t even remotely as potent as this.

A well-defined forearm came into my field of vision as he held out my phone to me. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that I realized I’d been standing there frozen a little too long. What had he asked me? Oh yeah, he wanted to know if I was okay.

“Yeah, just stubbed my toe. I didn’t realize they’d run out of apartments and decided to rent out the foyer.” I took my phone from him and glanced at it to make sure it was still in one piece. Relieved the expensive protective case had done its job, I slid it into the back pocket of my shorts. “Thanks for getting it for me. Guess I need to pay attention to where I’m going—and remember to wear shoes—when I come down to check the mail.”

Looking to my right, I couldn’t even see my mailbox thanks to the stack of brown cardboard boxes piled directly in front of it. The letter I had been anxiously expecting for months was supposed to be delivered any day now. The steel box hanging on the wall just a couple of yards away might be holding the news that would change my life, yet it was just out of reach.

“Wow, I’ve never seen such fancy toes.”

I wondered how long he’d been examining my feet. “I can’t stand them,” I replied. Work was the only reason I endured the hours it took to get a manicure and pedicure every other week. I absolutely hated sitting still that long with nothing to do but make small talk. We stood in awkward silence for a moment, and I couldn’t quite shake the feeling I’d met him before. “Do we know each other?”

His head tilted as he studied me. The intensity in his eyes had my insecurities running at an all-time high. “Not yet, but I have a feeling we’re supposed to.”

Any tension I might have felt was instantly broken. It took everything I had to keep from laughing in his face. “Has that line ever worked?”

“Oh, uh…” He looked away while running his hand down the back of his neck.

And, the discomfort was back. “It wasn’t a line, was it?” I asked. His eyes darted around the space but never landed on me. “I’m sorry. I’ve heard so many lines over the years that everything sounds like a come-on to me.” After a few seconds of quiet, I gently kicked the box in front of me.

“Sorry about the mess.” He must have decided to let my faux pas go. The sparkle in his gorgeous eyes returned, which did something strange to my stomach. “I waited too long to reserve a U-Haul, so I could only get it for a few hours this morning. My friend helped me carry most of the furniture upstairs, but we didn’t have time to take these boxes up to my apartment, so we just dumped them here. I figured everyone would be at work for a few more hours, but I guess I was wrong. I’ll get it moved as quickly as I can.”

Based on the size of the pile, it would take him all day. There was no way I could wait that long to see if my letter had arrived. “I’ll help; just let me get my shoes.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I do if I want to get my mail anytime soon,” I said with a smile. “Plus, I can use the exercise.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.” Although, in all reality, who enjoys moving enough to volunteer to do it? “I’ll be right back.”

It only took me a couple of minutes to run up to my third floor apartment and put on my socks and shoes. On my way back down, I found him coming out of the unit closest to the steps on the first floor. “That’s me,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

“That’s not too bad, but it’ll still take a while to get all of that stuff up here. Is your friend coming back?”

“No, he had to go to work.”
Crap.
I tried to think if there was anyone I knew who could help. My parents were probably as high as the International Space Station, as usual, and I didn’t want anyone from work to know my real name, let alone where I lived.

When we got back to the ground floor, I surveyed the heap of boxes again. There was no way a single man would have so much stuff. “How about your girlfriend? Is she coming to help?” I was slightly disappointed at the thought, but I knew it didn’t matter. It’s not like he could ever be mine.

“Don’t have one.”

“Oh, boyfriend? Roommate?”

“None of the above; it’s just me.”

“Then what’s with all of this stuff? I thought bachelors lived light.”

“My last place was quite a bit bigger, so it didn’t seem like that much until I boxed it up. I blame my mother and her decorator.”

Ah, so he was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth.

“I’m Carter, by the way. Carter Smith.” He took my hand and helped me climb to the largest bare spot on the floor, which was just barely big enough for us both to fit. My breasts pushed against his chest as I steadied myself in the cramped space.

“Alissa Ross,” I replied. Even after I had found my footing, he still hadn’t let go of my hand. “Okay, let’s get started.”

“Are you sure you don’t have anything better to do on a Monday afternoon?” he asked.

“Nope. I was going to be lazy until I have to go to work.”

“What time do you have to leave?”

“Shift starts at ten, so I’ll probably hit the road about nine.” When I pulled my phone out to check the time, he finally released my hand and moved to another vacant spot. “It’s only noon, so we have plenty of time. I just hope we can at least clear a path before everyone starts coming home. Mr. Pereira, the guy who lives across the hall from you, is a cranky old bastard.”

“Thanks for the heads up about my new neighbor. Sounds like he’s going to be loads of fun.” The boyish grin on his face was adorable. “I work nights, too. I’ll probably need to leave around eight-thirty since I’m not used to the commute from here.” While he spoke, I turned around and squatted the best that I could in the confined area so I could lift the box on which I’d stubbed my toe. “Where do you work?”

Shit
. “Centennial Midwest,” I replied. It wasn’t a lie. CM was a holding company that owned a ton of fine dining establishments, among other things, in the state of Indiana. Most of them were right here in Indianapolis. He lifted a box of his own and followed me up the steps.

“That’s kind of late to be going to work at a restaurant. Do you work at one of their night clubs?”

“Yes.” Also not technically a lie. CM owned several dance clubs in the area that catered to college students. If he assumed I worked at one of them, I wouldn’t be correcting him.

“Bartender?”

“Yeah.” Okay, so that was a lie. Only my co-workers and clients knew what I did for a living, and they all thought my name was Lisa. For the past six years, I’d managed to keep that part of my life completely separate from the rest. Even if it hadn’t been my biggest secret, I wouldn’t have wanted him to know. No one had ever looked at me the way he did, and I knew it would change if he found out. Although I’d just met him and had no intention of pursuing him, I didn’t want to lose the feeling I got when his eyes met mine. “How about you?”

He hesitated for a moment before replying, “I work on the freeways.” The delayed response made me wonder if he was ashamed of his blue collar job. There was absolutely no reason to be embarrassed by an honest day’s work. Especially since it was most likely responsible for his muscular body, which I seriously needed to stop looking at. My imagination ran away from me as I pictured him wearing nothing but low-slung jeans and a reflective vest while operating a jackhammer.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he pushed open the door to his new home.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Haven’t quite woken up all the way yet.” It was the only plausible explanation for the way my brain was misbehaving. Dodging the furniture covering most of the floor, I followed him to the back of the room and put my box on the floor next to his. “Who needs two coffee tables?” The crowded foyer didn’t seem so bad compared to his living room.

“Told you my last place was big. I really didn’t think this through.”

Mommy and Daddy must have footed the bill for his last apartment. There was no way someone with a road-crew salary could afford the rent on a place big enough to hold all of this stuff. I was curious about the backstory surrounding his change in circumstances but was worried if I started digging, he would return the favor.

During a sweep of my surroundings, my eyes stopped on the wall behind the couch. “Seriously? You left piles of stuff downstairs, yet you took the time to hang up concert posters?”

“Black Friday and Ashes & Embers are the best fucking bands in the world. Those are my most prized possessions. They are both signed by all of the guys in the band. Reaper is the fucking shit, and I would totally switch teams for Storm Valentine.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure Storm doesn’t swing that way. I’d hate for you to get your hopes up.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. You know what I meant.”

“I do. I totally do. I cried when Reaper and Harmony got together.” Plans to steal those posters started to take shape in my head. There were more pressing matters to attend to, though. “Well, this place isn’t going to be livable until you get rid of a bunch of stuff, so let’s at least move some of it around to open up a little more floor space. I really don’t need another toe injury today.”

“Good idea.”

We flipped over one of the coffee tables and stacked it on top of the other. Afterward, we each shoved a chair into the corner farthest from the entry and moved a couple of end tables into his bedroom. With a small, but clear, path through the apartment, we got back to work.

‡

E
very muscle in
my body cursed my name. It had taken us close to four hours to get everything hauled up to his place—of course, we hadn’t been moving very quickly since we’d been talking most of the time. Turns out we were both only children, we shared a love of the Pacers, and based on a comment I made when I saw the headline of the newspaper his neighbor had yet to bring in, we discovered that our political views aligned well—which was surprising to me since his mom could afford a decorator and mine couldn’t afford toilet paper. He was easy to be around; in fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so comfortable with another human being.

“Let me take you out to dinner,” he said when we placed the final two boxes on his kitchen counter. “I’d offer to make something, but I obviously haven’t done any shopping yet.”

“You cook?”

“It’s one of my many talents. However, I’m also very skilled at reading a menu and paying the bill. What do you say?”

He looked at me with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. It was the kind of thing one might expect to see in the eyes of a little boy as he waits to open the biggest package under the Christmas tree. As powerful as it was to have it directed toward me, that look wasn’t a good thing. Leading him on was the last thing I wanted to do. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just get a snack and then stop at a drive-through on my way to work.” My stomach chose that moment to disagree loudly with my plan.

He chuckled and pointed to my traitorous midsection. “There’s no way I’ll take no for an answer after that.”

“All right,” I relented. “Let me go shower and change first. Meet back here?”

I was halfway across the room when he responded, “It’s a date.”

Pausing when I got to the door, I realized that while I’d spelled it out to myself, I hadn’t been clear with him. “That was probably just a figure of speech, but I need to make sure we’re on the same page. I don’t date. We can be friends but nothing more.”

A shit-eating grin was the absolute last response I expected. “Challenge accepted.”