Playing the Game (2 page)

He slipped past her toward the door on the other side of the hall and disappeared inside.

She used the box to push the door open wide. Cute guy, but full of himself. She wasn’t looking right now anyway. No harm in
looking
, though, right?

She set the box in the center of the tiny space. One down, two dozen to go. Plus the furniture, though hers consisted of a futon, a battered trunk, and a floor lamp.

Leaving the door open, she tromped downstairs, pacing herself so she wouldn’t run out of steam. At least moving out hadn’t required navigating stairs. A search of the lobby floor turned up a cracked brick to prop the inner door.

Her stomach growled as she scooped another box from the van and made for the door. She bobbled the box against her left arm, stretching out her right hand. She hadn’t found the handle yet when the door opened.

“Okay there, Alice? I thought we were gonna prop this puppy open.” Jay, bikeless, still wore riding clothes.

Wait, we? He wanted to help? Either he was hard up or she looked like the most pathetic, desperate girl in town. Even friends demanded bribes to tote boxes. This guy had known her all of five minutes.

“Yeah, I haven’t grabbed anything for this door yet. But you don’t–I mean, I’m fine. I’ve got everything handled.”

“Okay. Sure.” He nodded. “You should get out of the sun. That fair skin’s already pinking up.”

She slid past him, her leg brushing his, her shoulder grazing his chest. They’d be neighbors for the next year at the least. Would this Jay be a nice guy or a creep? She crossed her fingers and hoped for the former.

“Thanks for holding the door.”

He shrugged. “I was on my way out.”

“Oh! Okay.” God, she’d assumed he was offering to help. Fuck it. He hadn’t seemed offended, and worrying would be a waste of time. “See you around.”

“Yep, I’m sure you will. I’m hard to miss.”

She shook her head, trying not to encourage his egotistical comedy antics, and climbed the stairs once more. The place mimicked a free gym with all the stair-mastering she could handle and then some.

She set the second box beside the first, two brown cubes in a bare white room. The August heat made the room stuffy. She unsnapped the latches on the windows and raised the lower panes. The view showcased the alley where a handful of residents paid exorbitant fees for unmetered parking, but the breeze satisfied.

A knock came from behind her, three firm raps, and an unfamiliar male voice followed.

“Alice?”

A man stood in her doorway. Mid-thirties, maybe a little older, neatly trimmed light brown hair, smartly dressed in dark gray slacks and a pale blue button-down shirt. Oddly out-of-place sandals.

“Can I help you?”

“My apologies. You must, of course, be Alice, quite as Jay described you. I’m Henry. I share the apartment across the hall with Jay. I thought I might introduce myself and invite you over for a snack. Lunch, if you’d prefer. Moving is draining work. I try to avoid it myself.”

“What, moving or work?”
Wonder if this Henry knows he’s living with a serial flirt.

He raised an eyebrow. “Touche. Both, in fact. But you won’t tempt me into a doorway discussion, neighbor. I insist we get acquainted properly over a meal.”

He was without a doubt the most formal man she’d ever met. He wasn’t even crossing the line of the door. Weird, but sweet. Timid? Courteous? Fuck. She didn’t want a bad start with her neighbors.

“I’d love to, but I’m in the middle of the whole moving thing, and I need to get it done first. I have to return the van today.”

“Oh? I don’t see how that’s a problem. Have you run into Jay? He was supposed to–”

“Stand aside, coming through!” Jay’s voice rang through the hallway at full volume.

Henry stepped back.

“Really, Jay?” Henry wore a small smile as he shook his head.

Jay came through the door with two boxes piled in his arms and set them beside the others.

“You’re not wearing a shirt,” she blurted, too busy ogling his chest to censor herself.

He was well muscled, for sure. Firm. Lean and very, very firm. Willpower alone kept her eyes, but not her thoughts, above his waist.

“Yes, Jay, by all means, explain how you lost your shirt between here and the curb. I’m dying to know, and I’d wager our new neighbor is as well.”

Henry returned to the doorway, standing with ridiculously perfect posture. Would asking if he’d taken ballet be rude?

Jay flashed her a smile. “Wadded up as a doorstop.” He turned toward Henry. “We had one stop for two doors, so–you know how much I love math. Back in a minute with more. Shouldn’t you be putting lunch on the table? I’m absolutely killing this move. Forty-five minutes, an hour, tops.”

He disappeared before Alice wrapped her head around the idea.

She scurried to the door and popped her head out. No dice.

“Wait, he’s–I should–I can move my stuff myself.”

“Of course you can.”

Wow. She gripped the doorframe as Henry spoke inches from her ear. His smooth voice made her want to drink it in.

“You appear quite fit. But you’ll remove a source of ridiculous male pride if you don’t allow Jay to complete the lion’s share of the task. Did you pack the vehicle yourself?”

She laughed, stepping back to put space between them.

“If you knew my old roommates, you wouldn’t have to ask. I woke up at eight to load the van, and at that hour, on a Saturday? They have three states: asleep, hungover or still drunk. Today I had two sleepers and one angry hangover victim telling me to can the noise.”

“Not one lifted a finger?”

She shook her head. After two years with her roommates, she’d probably interacted with them less than she had with her new neighbors in the first twenty minutes.

“Well, then, you see? You’ve already accomplished more than half of the work. Jay will simply do the rest.”

“He doesn’t even know me. I should–”

“Nonsense.” Henry gestured her into the hall. “You’ve worked all morning. You ought to sit down and have a drink. Water? Lemonade? Iced tea?”

She glanced toward the staircase and then in the other direction, past his welcoming arm. She didn’t know this guy, not either of these guys, and she was going to saunter into their apartment like some horror-movie idiot opening the basement door?

“I can bring the food to you, if you prefer. I would hate for our new neighbor to feel herself a fly walking into my parlor.”

“Why, are you a spider?” She winced at the unintentional flirtation in her tone.

“I wouldn’t think so, no, but then wouldn’t I tell you the same thing if I were?” He raised an eyebrow. His lips twitched.

“You’ve got the charming part down well enough.”

It
was
nearly lunchtime. She didn’t want to carry boxes all afternoon. Was it too damsel-in-distress to give the job to a cute neighbor? It wasn’t as if she’d coerced him. She hadn’t been in distress or pretended to be. Jay was thoughtful, or something.

She narrowed her eyes at Henry. “I guess I’ll have to trust this isn’t a trap and you guys don’t kill undesirable neighbors on their first day in the building.”

“Oh, no, not the first day. We prefer to let them settle in first. Today, you’re perfectly safe. Though whoever called you undesirable was quite mistaken.” He frowned and waved a hand. “I apologize for how such a statement could be misconstrued. It appears Jay’s habits are rubbing off on me.”

Considering her ex-roommates’ habits, neighbors with a predilection for charm held incomparable appeal. Especially if they were single.

“He does seem to be a flirt,” she agreed.

“When he wants to be,” Henry said. “But now we’ve been standing in the doorway entirely too long, and I haven’t–”

“Seriously?” Jay’s voice boomed from the stairs. “I’m back with two more boxes–told you I was killing it–and you haven’t gotten Alice a drink? You’re slipping, Henry. She might die of thirst.”

Alice stepped into the hall, following Henry out of Jay’s way. “I’m not dying of thirst. But if you’re determined to show off your macho skills, I’ll go have that lemonade. I’ve never played Southern belle before. I think I need a veranda and a fan.”

“An excellent suggestion.” Henry’s arm moved as though he intended to sweep it against her back and carry her along with him, but stopped short.

She itched with the desire to lean back and find out how his touch felt.

“Jay, when you’ve finished, join us for lunch on the roof deck.”

“Aye-aye, Cap’n.” Jay winked at Alice, lowering his voice to a faux-whisper as he approached her door. “Consider it payment for moving the boxes. Keep Henry company while he waxes melodic about lettuce or something. Please. You’ll be doing me a favor.”

She glanced at Henry’s expression, a sort of resigned fondness, as though Jay had said something expected. Hiding her smile, she matched Jay’s tone. “What an astonishing coincidence. He said the same thing about you when he asked me to please find enough boxes to occupy you all afternoon.”

Jay’s face blanked for a moment before he laughed. He kept laughing, deposited the boxes beside the others and bent over with his hands on his knees, whooping for breath.

“It wasn’t that funny,” Alice muttered, but Henry, too, seemed to struggle not to chuckle.

Jay straightened. “Five minutes and she’s got your number, Henry. You better watch out, or she’ll have all of your secrets out of you before lunch is served.”

She smiled the small, cautious smile of the unsure. She’d definitely missed the joke here.

Henry spoke up beside her, “Mmm. I see the two of you will be dangerous together. Jay, to the boxes. Alice, this way, please.”

She let Henry guide her into his apartment. He left the door open behind them. A deliberate attempt to put her at ease? Whatever his reason, it worked.

She scanned the apartment twice. Blinked hard. Either her neighbors made serious cash, or they were up to their eyeballs in debt. The other floors squeezed in four or five apartments, but this one held her studio and their palace. She was paying twelve hundred a month for less than a quarter the space.

Maybe Jay was a wealthy millionaire playboy and Henry his faithful lunch-making butler.
I live next door to Batman.
She stifled a giggle.

Jay’s bike hung on hooks near the door. A hall led left, to bedrooms, probably. Henry gestured her to the right. The foyer opened up into a living room, dining room and kitchen, all in a row, the three together larger than her entire apartment.

“You neglected to place a drink order earlier, Alice. Shall I repeat the choices?”

“No, lemonade sounds great. It’s warm out there.” Not in the men’s apartment, though. Nine windows brought in the breeze and the view. Mature trees shaded smaller homes in neighboring blocks. “Are you sure Jay won’t get sunstroke after all the biking and box-carrying and stair-climbing?”

Henry gestured her to a bar-height seat at the kitchen island. She sat while he fetched and poured. Homemade lemonade, judging by the slices floating in it.

“He’ll be fine, I’m certain, though you’re kind to worry for him.”

She drained half the glass, embarrassed by her own eagerness. “Guess I was thirstier than I thought. That’s good lemonade.”

“You share Jay’s sweet tooth, I expect.”

Henry stood across the counter from her. One of his hands rested on the black granite speckled with blue-and-white glints like stars, as though she stared into the night sky and might tumble into space. Would his hand catch her?

“Now, before I begin preparing lunch, is there anything I ought to know about your preferences? Vegetarian? Vegan? Allergies?”

She shook off her odd thoughts. “No, no and no. But I should go move my stuff. Jay shouldn’t have to go to all that trouble for me.”

Henry tipped his head, lips pursed as he studied her. He raised his right hand, index finger extended, and though he’d moved slowly, she was surprised when his finger lay against her lips as if he were shushing a child. A gesture that might’ve seemed offensive or patronizing didn’t. Henry shook his head and removed his finger.