Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

Jade

I opened my door with hope in my chest every day for four days after coming across the little riddle scribbled on it.

But for the fourth day in a row what I was met with was a vulgar phrase or, in this case, a drawing. It was a caricature of me. As expected, my features were exaggerated. Instead of the typical large head like you found in these drawings, though, it was my boobs that were comically enhanced, each one of them looking bigger than my head.

It was actually really well done for what had to be a quick doodle.

Instead of erasing it in its entirety, I just removed the boobs and replaced them with a sign, and drew hands to hold it.

You’re talented. If you want art lessons, let me know.

There.

That felt like a good way to handle it.

Clearly, it was almost certainly one of the many teenagers in the building. Just screwing around. Being kids. I couldn’t be mad about the boobs. That was, you know, a normal thing for teenage boys to hyper-fixate on. But removing them from the caricature felt like the appropriately adult thing to do.

I was still trying to shove my reusable grocery bags into my purse when I heard a loud slam coming from William’s apartment, loud enough to make me jerk and gasp.

“William?” I called, a little tentatively. I didn’t know why, though, so I tried again more loudly. “William?”

Inside his apartment, there was a groaning sound that had my heartbeat accelerating.

I rushed across the hall, reaching for the knob, finding the door unlocked. Still, I hesitated after cracking the door open. “William? Are you okay?” I called.

“Fuck, ow, fuck,” a voice howled from further in the apartment.

“William, I’m coming in!” I called to be heard over his curses.

He wasn’t in the living room, and I said a silent prayer for his dignity and my own comfort level that he hadn’t fallen getting out of the shower or off of the toilet, as I rushed into the apartment.

Luckily, I found him in the bedroom, trying to use the bed to pull himself up, but the bedding was preventing any progress.

“How about we try this?” I suggested, moving around the bed to grab the bedding from the other side, giving him something to use to pull himself up, since he was too big for me to be able to actually lift. I tried not to think about the sweat-stained sheets as I held onto them.

From the other side of the bed, William’s face was beet red as he clawed his way up onto the mattress, flopping over onto his side, breathing heavily.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt something?” I asked, moving back around the bed, reaching to right his wheelchair before I looked down at him.

“Got a bad back,” he told me through gritted teeth. Sweat was beaded in his brow and hairline, likely from the pain.

“Do you have medicine I could get for you?” I asked.

“Kitchen counter,” he said, back to deep breathing.

I moved through the apartment, grabbing the prescription bottle of pain medicine on the counter, then going to get a drink from the fridge.

Inside, I found a big tin of food.

On the island was fresher fruit, though it was already looking like it was fading. The bananas were more brown than yellow and the pears even looked mushy.

It was as I was making my way back to the bedroom when I noticed there was quite a bit of sunlight shining into the room. The windows that had been grimy on my last visit were almost completely clean.

Had William cleaned them? Maybe in a surge of insecurity at having a stranger in his place. As much as I felt bad if I’d created those feelings, I thought it was likely good for him to get some sunshine.

“Here you go,” I said to William as I twisted off the top of the bottle. He took it from me, shaking three of the pills into his palm, making me bite back a question on if that was a safe or appropriate dose. Who was I to question him? I popped his soda tab and handed that to him as well. “Can I help you with anything else? Get you something else?”

“No,” he said, biting off the word in a way that suggested I wasn’t welcome.

I couldn’t be bothered by his tone, either, since the man was clearly in agony and likely just wanted to suffer in peace, not in front of a complete stranger.

“Okay. I will let you rest. But I’m one call away if you need anything,” I assured him, making my way back out of his room.

I stopped in the kitchen to grab his garbage again and replace the old bag.

I had just pulled open the door and was rushing forward. And nearly collided with a solid chest.

“Oh,” I gasped, stepping back, instinct telling me to always put space between myself and a random man.

My gaze followed up a wiry, but strong torso and chest to find a ridiculously good-looking man. One with inky hair that had charmingly fallen over his brow toward his deep, dark chocolatey eyes fringed with an unfair amount of lashes. He had a jaw that looked like it was carved by one of the greats, a straight, masculine nose, and a generous mouth.

It was the kind of face that made my fingers itch to reach for my drawing pad and pencils.

The smile he shot me as soon as his gaze landed on me wasn’t exactly hurting either. Those teeth were almost blinding. And that smile was full of charm and a hint of mischief. It wasn’t long before those attributes brightened his dark eyes either.

“You must be Jade,” he said, his gaze moving down me.

I didn’t typically gripe about someone doing a once-over. As an artist, I was often caught looking at people for what might be considered an uncomfortable or creepy amount of time.

When this guy did one, though, little prickles of interest coursed through me, making my heartbeat quicken and my belly flip-flop.

It wasn’t a strange or worrying reaction. I mean, this guy was gorgeous. I was a red-blooded woman who was into men. Of course there was a little spark of attraction. Even if he was a complete stranger.

Except he wasn’t exactly a stranger, was he? He knew my name.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “Who are you?”

“Levee,” he said, that smile spreading just a little wider.

Levee.

The name teased the edges of my memory until it came rushing back. William insulting my name. And that of his nephew. Levee.

“Where have you been?”

The words flew out of me before I could even think them through, weigh their repercussions. This man was throwing me off.

“What?” he asked, brows scrunching.

“Your uncle fell,” I said, waving toward the apartment. “He needed help getting up and getting his meds. His fridge is almost empty. The apartment is filthy. Where have you been?” I asked, indignant on behalf of a man who I knew didn’t want me to be his champion.

“Is he alright?” Levee asked, glancing past me toward the bedroom.

“He seems to have hurt his back,” I told him. “He took three pills.”

“Thank you for helping him,” Levee said, sucking in a deep, steadying breath. “I know he can be… unappreciative,” he said, and I got the feeling it was more than that for him. “But I appreciate it. Here,” he said, moving inside to put a handful of bags down that I’d been too fixated on his face to notice.

Levee reached inside of the bag, pulling out a receipt, then rifling through a junk drawer to produce a pen. When it wouldn’t write, he pulled it up to his mouth, wetting the tip with his tongue.

And, well, I’m not proud of where my mind went right there. But as he jotted something down, need was pulsing between my thighs.

“Take my number,” he said, extending the receipt toward me, then taking the garbage bag from my hand. “If he ever falls again, call me. I don’t want you getting hurt trying to help him up.”

“Okay,” I agreed, taking the note and tucking it into the pocket of my dress. He wasn’t wrong thinking I wouldn’t be capable of helping his uncle if we hadn’t lucked out by using the bedding.

“And I’ll admit that I’m not around as much as someone should be,” he admitted as he started pulling items out of the bags to put on the counter. Six packs of soda, TV dinners, and the eternally hopeful supply of fruit that it seemed William never touched. “But my uncle doesn’t want me here. He barely tolerates one visit a week.”

I could see that. I mean, the man was pretty grumpy and snippy with me. And I was a stranger. I couldn’t imagine the vitriol the man saved up to use on actual family members.

Still, the fact was the same. William needed more help than he was getting.

“Have you considered hiring an aide?” I asked.

“Tried three,” he admitted, shooting me a humorless smile as he turned to lean against the counter. “Let’s just say that my uncle has a lot of shit to say about people that he has no business saying. And I don’t blame those people for quitting.”

“I understand,” I said, thinking of all the awful things someone with hate in their heart might be willing to say to anyone who was different from them. “A home?”

“It might be coming to that. But I can’t exactly force him either,” Levee said. “So for now, I… do what I can. And he… manages. Once he stops managing, I guess we will have a talk then.”

I couldn’t relate to taking care of someone who didn’t want or appreciate my help. So I really had no place to speak here.

So I decided to change tack.

“Was it you who wrote the riddle?” I asked, since another one hadn’t appeared in about a week. How often he claimed he visited.

“It was,” he said, nodding. “Did someone draw you with giant tits?” he asked, nodding out toward the hall where my whiteboard was situated.

“They did,” I said, letting out a little laugh. “It was actually really well done.”

“Kids,” he said, shrugging. “I probably would have done the same thing if I was that age and a hot new chick moved in.” I was going to go ahead and pretend his words didn’t feel like a warm sensation moving through my chest. “So, you’re an artist?” he asked.

“I am,” I confirmed, the smile coming easy, as it always did. Even if my chosen vocation didn’t exactly secure the most stable of incomes and lifestyles. Hence living in this building in a less than ideal neighborhood.

What can I say? It was more important to me that I loved my work than it made me rich.

“Bet you love that eyesore,” he said, pointing toward a wall behind me.

Turning, I found an old painting of dogs playing poker. Cigars hung from their mouths. Beer bottles were scattered around. The style was a whole trend in art in the early 1900s.

“Everyone has their own taste,” I said, trying never to judge someone’s feelings on art. “Actually, depending on how old that is, it might be worth a decent amount of money.”

“Yeah? I’ll have to tell my uncle,” he said, looking more closely at the picture. “Good thing it’s behind glass, I guess. Everything in here is covered in smoke residue.”

“I’d be happy to do some cleaning around here for your uncle. I just don’t want to offer and make him feel uncomfortable.”

“That’s really sweet, doll. And I’ll pass that along for you. But I can pretty much tell you verbatim what his response to that will be.”

“What’s that?”

“‘I don’t need no fucking help around here. What do you think I am, some kind of…’ and then there will be a word, or string of words, that I won’t repeat.”

“I wish he would realize that we all need help sometimes,” I said. “But I won’t overstep. I just wanted to offer. I have to get to the store. Does William need me to get him anything?”

“Think I got it all covered,” he said, waving toward the bags that he hadn’t unpacked.

“Okay,” I said, starting to walk away, but turning back. “Hey, I’m sorry about snapping at you before.”

His head cocked to the side at that, his eyes warm. “Don’t apologize. Don’t blame you for being pissed. I wish I could do more too. Things are—“

“Levee? That you? The fuck are you doing here? Thought I told you to leave me the fuck alone,” William called, making Levee’s brows raise.

“Case in point,” he said.

“You’re a good nephew to keep coming, even though he doesn’t seem to appreciate it,” I told him. Maybe I’ll see you around,” I added, making my way out.

It wasn’t until I was collecting the reusable bags that I’d dropped that I finally took a slow, deep breath, trying to calm the little sparks of desire moving through me.

Maybe I would find some reason to run into this particular good-looking guy the next week.

I might have a rule against sleeping with neighbors because of the possible awkward interactions in the communal areas.

But Levee wasn’t exactly a neighbor.

And I was very clearly interested…