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“Okay, I’ll go with you. But first I need to go change my shoes. These heels are killing me.”
“I’ll be waiting right out front.”
I can feel his eyes watching me as I cross the street and go into my building.
This is fucking crazy. If I hadn’t spied on him a million times already, I wouldn’t even consider this. But as it is, I kind of do know him—and I’m dying to actually get to know him.
So I swiftly enter my building and ask the doorman as I go, “Hey, do you know a Paul? Lives across the street?”
“You mean Paul Armstrong? Sure, moved in a couple months ago. They say he’s richer than anyone, old money.”
“Hmm, thanks, that helps a lot.”
Paul Armstrong. What a name. I take the elevator up to my place and hurry in. I run to the closet and put on my most comfortable yet classic come-fuck-me boots. Then I hurry to my vanity, tousle my hair with some spray, smear on some lipstick, and then I’m back out the door.
I turn around to lock it, and I see Emilia and Evan in a heated moment. When did they become a thing?
I try not to look, but he’s got her pinned against the wall between his arms, and they’re fighting about something in heated tones.
Should I say hi?
Should I see if she’s okay?
I decide that Emilia’s a big girl and that she can take care of herself. Besides, their argument seems more lust-driven than anything.
I casually walk past them to the elevator in preparation for my own big moment with Mr. Paul Armstrong. Emilia sees me and delivers a small smile that lets me know she’s okay.
Then the next thing I know she and Evan are going at it—in a totally non-argumentative way.
I smile to myself as I press the elevator key and suddenly feel myself experiencing waves of mixed emotions.
I’m about to go out with Paul—mystery man extraordinaire, sexy neighbor, and man with rippling abs.
How I got in this position I’ll never know, but I can see that tonight promises to be extraordinary.
Four
Paul
She comes out of her building looking fucking hot.
She changed her shoes, but everything else is the same. I haven’t even got her name yet, and I already know I want to fuck her.
She runs to the waiting limousine, and I do her the honor of opening the door myself.
My fake excuse about needing a date worked. I do have a work function to attend, but I didn’t need a date. It’s a dinner, a fundraiser, and totally unnecessary.
Normally, I’d just write them a check and call it good. But not if she’s gonna be my date. I’d sit through a thousand boring dinners just to be in close proximity to her.
“Hi,” she says breathlessly.
“I didn’t even get your name,” I say, inhaling the sweet scent of her rich brown hair as she gets in the limo.
“Oh, hi, I’m Naomi. And I think you’re right. We are neighbors. I think I’ve seen you before,” she says with a smirk as she gets in.
Oh, fuck. She’s seen me all right. I knew she had, the little minx.
My apartment is right across from hers, and I’ve seen those green eyes staring at me from a distance, especially and most conveniently when I’ve got my shirt off.
