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She made too many life and death decisions in her job, so many that she tended to shut down when she got home. She could diagnose and treat illnesses, rarely questioning what needed to be done to help her patients. But ask her what she wanted for dinner, and her brain went haywire.
When she moved in here, it hadn’t taken Blake long to figure out she was a bit of a mess when it came to mealtimes, and the sweet man had taken it upon himself to help. As such, she received invitations to “friend” dinners two or three times a week, he helped her build her Instacart lists, and at least once a month, he dragged her kicking and screaming to the grocery store. And when she’d had to work overtime, more than once, he’d gone shopping for her, filling her fridge so she wouldn’t have to worry about meals after her long shifts were over.
Erika knew she could do all of that herself—and if she had to, she would. After all, she’d made do prior to moving into this building.
But she liked how he took care of her, and she was touched by his concern.
So much so, it wasn’t something she wanted to lose.
Which was why letting him use her sex toys on her was a stupid thing to do. How the hell was she supposed to face him now?
The dust hadn’t even settled on that thought before Corky was racing to her front door, her tail wagging as she danced with glee. The puppy knew Blake’s sounds, always warning Erika just before he arrived.
Sure enough, he pounded out one knock on the door before attempting to open it. She wasn’t sure when they’d basically stopped knocking before entering. She wasn’t even sure when they’d started unlocking their apartment doors first thing in the morning for each other.
All she knew was…she hadn’t unlocked it this morning.
She couldn’t.
Erika grimaced, flames licking her face. She wished she could act like the thirty-year-old woman she was and manage not to blush like a goddamn teenager in front of Blake.
Maybe it would be easier if he wasn’t so ridiculously attractive. Erika wasn’t going to deny that, upon first moving in, she’d thought long and hard about succumbing to Blake’s overtures. He wore his jet-black hair slightly longer than most men she knew, though not long enough for a man bun or anything like that. Somehow, he managed to always have a five-o’clock shadow that showed off his chiseled jawline to perfection. And while he had a body that would make the archangels weep, the most stunning part of him was his piercing ice-blue eyes.
God, she could drown in those eyes.
Erika considered retreating to her bathroom and turning on the shower so Blake would think she’d hadn’t heard his knock. It had taken her the first few months of living near him to stop drooling over his pretty face and lick-able muscles, but last night appeared to have undone all that hard work. Because now, as she stared at that closed door, all she could see was his heavy-lidded eyes watching as she came apart next to him…hear all those dirty, whispered words.
“Open the door, Erika,” Blake demanded. “Or I’ll use my key.”
She groaned, perfectly aware he would follow through with the threat, especially considering he’d just used her full name.
Trudging to the door, she finger-combed her hair, attempting to tame it. She hated herself instantly for the effort because she’d stopped worrying about her appearance with Blake ages ago. They’d seen each other in all their facets—dressed up, dressed down, with bedhead, bedraggled by rain, and red-nosed due to allergies.
Erika unlocked the door, trying to hold Corky back with her foot so she could open the damn thing. Blake was prepared for the puppy when she finally managed, bending forward to scoop their beloved pet into one hand.
He grinned as Corky slathered him with a million licks.
Stepping in, he gave Erika a once-over that made her uncomfortable and horny all at the same time.
“None the worse for wear, I see,” he joked, holding out his other hand.
“What’s this?” she asked, accepting the smoothie, focusing her attention on the glass in order to avoid eye contact.
“My hangover cure. Drink it and I guarantee you’ll feel better in half an hour.”
She eyeballed the green smoothie. “What’s in it?”
Blake chuckled. “Better that you don’t know.”
Erika stepped away from the door so he could walk in. She forced herself to turn back and head to the kitchen, planning to add a couple of ibuprofen to the smoothie cure. She also needed to stop looking at him, because while she probably resembled a scarecrow with her hair sticking out every which way, he’d taken the time to shower before coming over. He was wearing a basic button-down shirt and dark jeans. There shouldn’t be a goddamn thing sexy about any of that, but for some reason, she found the entire ensemble ridiculously hot.
“How’s your head?” he asked, following her.
“Crappy,” she muttered, not looking him in the eye.
Blake stepped next to her, tapping under her chin twice. “Hey. Look at me.”
She sighed, feigning annoyance. “I don’t feel that great, Blake.”
