7. Buster

SEVEN

Buster

2:42 pm

I stand there, mouth agape, staring at Cole. Of all the people to have for a neighbor, it had to be her. These coincidences are getting to be a bit much, even for me.

"I... uh... sorry to bother you," I stammer, trying to regain my composure. Her eyes look red and puffy, like she's been crying. I want to ask if she's okay, but I've already learned the hard way not to cross the line into personal matters with her, not yet, anyway.

"I just moved in on Saturday," I explain, gesturing vaguely down the hall. "Got off work early to meet the kitchen delivery guys."

"You mentioned that literally thirty seconds ago," Cole nods, her expression unreadable beyond her curt words. We stand in awkward silence for a moment before I remember why I knocked in the first place.

"Look, this is going to sound stupid, but I was hoping to borrow a screwdriver. I got this ridiculous wooden box from Williams Sonoma with my new dishes. And I can't get the damn thing open."

I force a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. Cole's eyebrows raise slightly, but she doesn't smile.

"Anyway, I thought I'd take the opportunity to meet my neighbor. Didn't realize it would be you."

More silence. I shift uncomfortably, wondering if I should just apologize again and leave. But then Cole sighs and steps back from the doorway.

"Come in," she says flatly. "I think I have a screwdriver in here somewhere."

I hesitate for a second before following her inside. Her condo is a mirror image of mine but infinitely more lived-in and homey. Family photos line the walls, and a child's toys are scattered across the living room floor.

"Nice place," I offer lamely, trailing behind her as she heads toward what I assume is a utility closet.

I watch Cole reach into the utility closet, rummaging around for the screwdriver. My eyes can't help but trace the curve of her back, memories of our night together flooding back unbidden. She turns suddenly, and before I can step back, we collide.

I'm not sure who moves first, but suddenly, we're a mesh of bodies, limbs, and heated skin. Cole's hands are everywhere, exploring the contours of my body as if she's trying to memorize every inch. Her touch is electric, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through me.

In one swift motion, I hoist her onto the kitchen counter, my hands skimming up her thighs, pushing her dress up around her waist. Her panties are a flimsy barrier, and with a swift tug, they're on the floor. Cole's eyes are dark with want as she watches me, her breath coming in short, impatient bursts.

I step between her legs, my fingers tracing the soft skin of her inner thighs. She shivers at my touch, a low moan escaping her lips as I tease her, my thumb circling her center. Already, she's wet, ready for me, and the realization sends a surge of primal need pulsing through my veins.

I can't wait any longer. I need to be inside her, to feel her tight around me. Quickly, I free myself from my shorts, my erection springing free, stiff, and aching for release. Cole's eyes flick down, a hungry look on her face as she reaches out to stroke me.

The sensation of her hand on me is almost too much to bear. I grab her wrist gently, pulling her hand away before I lose control. With a swift motion, I turn her around, pressing her against the pantry door. She gasps as I nudge her legs apart with my knee, the sound turning into a moan as I slide into her from behind.

Cole's body arches against mine, her fingers clutching at the door as I begin to move. Each thrust is deeper, harder than the last, our bodies slamming together in a rhythm as old as time. I can feel her tightening around me, her breath hitching as she gets closer to the edge.

I reach around, my fingers finding her most sensitive spot. I circle it in time with my thrusts, and within moments, Cole is crying out, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. The feel of her clenching around me is too much, and with a final, deep thrust, I follow her over the precipice, my release rushing through me like a freight train.

For a moment, we stay there, our ragged breaths echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen. Slowly, I pull out of her, and we both turn to face each other, a mix of shock, satisfaction, and the dawning realization of what we've just done etched on our faces.

Time freezes. Cole's body is pressed against mine, her face mere inches away. I can feel the warmth of her breath and see the flecks of gold in her blue eyes. The air between us crackles with tension, years of unspoken words and buried emotions surging to the surface.

My heart pounds in my chest. I should move, step back, and apologize, but I'm rooted to the spot. Cole's eyes flick down to my lips, then back up to meet my gaze. There's a question there, a challenge.

Before I can process what's happening, Cole reaches up, her hand sliding to the back of my neck. She pulls me down, and our lips meet in a searing kiss.

It's like a dam breaking. All the pent-up desire, regret, and what-ifs come pouring out in this moment. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepens.

Cole's fingers tangle in my hair, and a soft moan escapes her.

The rational part of my brain is screaming at me to stop, reminding me of all the complications this will bring. But right now, with Cole in my arms, her lips moving against mine, I can't bring myself to care.

3:02 pm

I lay back on Cole's couch, hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. What the hell just happened?

Slam, bam, thank you, ma'am.

One minute, Cole's glaring at me like she wants to poke my eyes out. The next, she's kissing me with a force that makes my head spin and my dick twitch.

"I hate to eat and run, but I've got to pick up Madeline."

"Uh, okay. No worries. Um…" She has an uncanny talent to segue from one extreme to the other. I play the part of a player, but this is another level.

I run a hand over my face, trying to make sense of it all. The taste of her lips lingers, the ghost of her touch still burning on my skin. It was fast, hot, and completely unexpected. I feel like I've been hit by a truck—a sexy, confusing, giant eighteen-wheeler.

"Cole, wait," I call out, getting up and pulling on my scrubs. "Should we talk about this? I mean, at some point."

"There's nothing to talk about, really," she snaps, her voice drifting from the other room. "I have to go. Since you're right across the hall, come have a glass of wine with me on my balcony after eight. If you want to, of course."

"Sure. Okay. That sounds good."

What the absolute fuck is happening right now? Like, seriously. Is she inviting me over for more? Is this a neighbors-with-benefits thing? Or is she going to throw me off the balcony in the night to punish me?

From the second floor, I wouldn't die. I'd just be mangled.

"I'm going to let you get ready. I'll head back to my place, but I'll plan to come by later. If anything changes, just leave me a note."

A note? What the fuck? Is this some of CIA covert operation? I'm being so weird. But this situation is anything but ordinary. I'm racking my brain to make sure I don't say the wrong thing. Or worse, say nothing when I should be saying something.

I hear her front door slam about a minute after getting in my place, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a whole lot of questions.

Shaking my head, I untie and retie my scrubs. My fingers fumble with the drawstring, still clumsy from the rush of adrenaline and desire. I replay the last hour in my mind, trying to pinpoint the moment something changed.

Was it when our eyes met? When our bodies collided? Or has this been building since the moment I saw her at the theme park, covered in blood and looking like she had seen a ghost?

One thing's for sure—meeting my new neighbor just got a lot more interesting—and complicated.

8:37 pm

I knock on Cole's door, my heart thundering in my chest like I'm about to step into the OR for a high-stakes surgery. I've changed into joggers and a fitted t-shirt, aiming for casual but not sloppy. My palms are sweaty, and I wipe them on my pants before she opens the door.

The soft glow of lamps behind her creates a halo effect, and for a moment, I'm struck dumb. Cole stands there, a glass of red wine in hand, her long brown hair over one shoulder.

She is looking as unsure as I feel. Her eyes meet mine, and there's a hint of something else—nervousness? Anticipation? It's hard to tell.

"Hey," I manage, my voice coming out rougher than I intended.

"Hi," she replies, her tone equally uncertain. We stand there for a beat, the air between us thick with unspoken words and lingering questions.

Cole clears her throat. "Come in," she says, stepping aside to let me pass.

I cross the threshold, hyper-aware of her presence as I move past her. Her perfume hits me, and suddenly, I'm transported back to this afternoon, her lips on mine, hands exploring...

Lord. I shake my head, trying to clear it. Focus, Buster.

"I brought wine," I say, holding up the bottle I'd grabbed from my place. "Figured I couldn't come by a second time empty-handed." I'm an idiot. Why did I have to offer that second part? Just give her the damned wine.

Cole nods, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Good call. Let's head out to the balcony."

I follow her through the living room, noticing more this time than earlier, the little touches that make this space uniquely hers—a colorful throw blanket draped over the couch, a stack of magazines on the coffee table, a child's drawing pinned to the fridge.

As we step onto the balcony, the cool night air hits my skin, and I take a deep breath. The city stretches before us, a tapestry of twinkling lights and distant sounds.

"Wow, your view is significantly better than mine. I mostly have a parking lot with a sad little tree and some green space to the side. This is super cool. I can see why you would want to sit out here."

Cole leans against the railing, silhouetted against the Birmingham skyline. The soft glow from the city lights below illuminates her features, gently radiating her skin.

Her dark hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, and I fight the urge to run my fingers through it. She's changed into a simple tank top and yoga pants, but somehow, she looks more stunning than ever. The casual outfit accentuates her natural beauty, highlighting the graceful curve of her neck and the toned lines of her arms.

"Yeah, this is a big reason I chose this place—that and the location. I can walk to the cafe from here. And now, Madeline is in a preschool a couple of blocks over. You can't beat this little downtown haven."

Cole turns to face me, and I'm struck by the intensity in her clear blue eyes. They seem to sparkle in the dim light. Her lips, still slightly swollen from our earlier encounter, curve into a small smile that sends my heart racing.

I notice a small scar above her left eyebrow, barely visible in the soft light. It's a tiny imperfection that only adds to her allure, making her seem more real, more human. I'm not sure if her cheeks are flushed from the wine or our proximity.

As she moves to pour the wine I brought, I can't help but admire her fluid grace. There's a quiet strength in the way she carries herself, a confidence that's both intimidating and incredibly attractive.

The moonlight catches the delicate chain around her neck, drawing my attention to the hollow of her throat. I swallow hard, trying to keep my composure as memories of our earlier encounter flood my mind.