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His eyes carry the shade of a cloudy gray day, and for a brief moment, all thoughts collide and merge as I struggle not to swoon. I might even require CPR at this point, not to mention I'm inexplicably parched, dizzy, and teetering on the edge of fainting.
But hold on – why am I swaying? And does the hallway suddenly possess an affinity for the cha-cha? The world has taken a topsy-turvy turn, and the one doing the falling isn't the dashing hero; it's me.
Fantastic.
And then, in the blink of an eye, darkness descends.
Chapter 10
Poppy
Inhale.
Exhale.
You’ll survive this. You have overcome much worse.
Fainting in front of your new neighbor isn’t so bad. Right?
The stench of humiliation wraps around me like a bad, itchy sweater as I lean closer to Harper.
"Harper, I'm officially begging you – could you just smother me with that pillow over there?" I whisper. It’s a nice-looking pillow, too. Death by Designer Pillow doesn’t sound so terrible.
I scan the surroundings, perched on an actual chair because I'm inside my neighbor's apartment, where things have been assembled.
I swear, I'm practically getting a doctorate in embarrassment today. Move over, Rosacea, because you've got competition in the humiliation department.
My cheeks? Blushing like they're about to launch into orbit. I've secured a permanent spot in the Hall of Shame for this one. Apparently, being hungover, flying, then moving boxes in the extreme heat, as well as riding an emotional roller coaster, can cause dehydration.
"This is good," Harper beams with a twinkle in her blue eyes.
I manage to muster a mix of a groan and a sigh, caught somewhere between absolute mortification and appreciating that Harper always finds a way to sprinkle some humor into my misery. These little quirks make our friendship unique, even in the face of monumental embarrassment.
"I'm beginning to think there's a conspiracy against my dignity," I mutter. “I hate you,” I hiss.
“I love you,” She flashes a lopsided grin.
“How is this good?” I whisper, my cheeks burning as I glance down, hoping to avoid the curious onlookers around us. Luckily, most of the men have resumed their unpacking duties, moving around his apartment with confidence and assurance, something my movers never possessed.
Kent is helping his brother, my new neighbor, find the box labeled “Kitchen” so he can get me a glass of water. I told him it wasn’t necessary the same moment Harper said how thoughtful he was as she helped guide me inside his apartment and onto an assembled chair.
Harper leans closer, her voice barely a whisper as her eyes look at Kent and his brother. “Imagine the orgasms you’re going to have,” she mutters.
My eyebrows inch up to my hairline. “Shh!” I stammer.
She turns to me and starts fussing with my hair, trying to make my messy bun look chic – an impossible task. “Your new neighbor. Capitol H.O.T." Her eyes widen mischievously, akin to a naughty child sneaking a finger into cake icing to steal a lick. "Brothers! Hot brothers. Together."
“Harper, now is not the time!” I protest, desperately trying to keep my composure and praying they can’t hear her whispers.
“Oh baby, there’s always a time to come,” she retorts with a playful wink.
“Oh. My. God,” I mutter, mortified and utterly embarrassed but not shocked at her ability to make any situation or conversation sexual.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed.” Kent stands.
His brother walks to the sink to fill the glass he just unpacked.
Kent comes closer, his eyes fully dilated and on Harper, as he speaks again, “Everything is bigger and hotter in Texas. It’s important to stay hydrated. We just gotta get you wet.” He purrs as he winks at Harper.
