Chapter 06

I 'm not really sure what to make of those ten minutes working with Alexander. He was oddly pleasant and even gave me something that resembled a compliment. And I didn't, at any point, imagine myself slapping his handsome face.

It was … weird.

But despite that, the tension that always fills the air between us was there, as strong as ever. It is strange how Oliver's presence makes me feel calm and comfortable, but I'm tense and jumpy with Alexander. The physical reaction I have to the man frustrates me. Up to this point, I never felt that sort of undesired and unrequited attraction to anyone. Wanting someone I don't actually want is exhausting.

"Is that everything?" Oliver asks, ripping me from my thoughts.

"Uh, I think so, yes," I say, looking at the boxes filling my old car from floor to roof.

Oli is becoming a great friend, which is crazy since we have known each other for less than a week. But he's sweet and considerate, and we're on the same wavelength for most things. When he offered to help with my move, I initially refused, not wanting to impose. But he insisted, arguing he didn't mind, so I caved in. Moving nearly got the best of me the first time, even though Kate and my dad helped. Doing it all over again alone would surely kill me.

We're just done getting everything down from my apartment, and after a quick check to make sure I didn't forget anything, I'll head to Mrs. Godfrey's office to give her back her key.

"I need ten minutes," I explain. "Then we'll drive to Tami's, and after that, you're free."

"Take your time, Hulkette. I'm not in a rush. "

The nickname, which he came up with after seeing me carry three piled-up boxes, makes me chuckle.

"Be right back," I insist.

As I climb up to my studio, I scold myself for not caring for my body like the temple it is. I'm twenty-six, in the prime of my youth, and my fat ass can't even handle the few rounds up and down those stairs we did today.

I look everywhere in the studio, making sure there's nothing left. I cleaned up the best I could, and honestly, it's better than when I moved in, so I decide it's good enough, even though my abuela would disagree.

Mrs. Godfrey is her usual sunshine self when I knock on her door once I'm back downstairs. "Miss Walker, I hope you left the studio in the same state you found it," she bitterly mumbles.

"Wait, do you mean I have to put back those two dead roaches and the three flies?" I ask with sarcasm. She gives me a very unamused glare, and I come closer to hand her the keys. "I'd say it was a pleasure to have met you, but it really wasn't."

She raises one of her poorly drawn eyebrows, not used to being addressed like this. But I have nothing to lose, so I keep going. "I got this for you," I explain, pulling out a tall prayer candle with Jesus plastered on it. I set it on her desk and give her a fake smile. "You should light it and pray for your soul. And next time you try to scam someone, remember that his sky daddy is always watching," I say, pointing at Jesus.

With that, I put my hand forward, still holding the keys, and drop them into her awaiting hand. "Andy out."

I feel light and unburdened as I leave the dreaded building, especially since I finally managed to get rid of that haunting candle my tia gave me before I left Portland.

Oli is waiting for me by my car, leaning on it. "All good?" he asks.

"Yep, I'm ready for my new home."

"Let's go, then. I texted Tami to let her know we were on our way."

"Perfect! All aboard!"

As we enter my car, I internally hope it doesn't die on us. It's at least a hundred years old in car years, with peeling paint that I've always known as this pinkish shade even though it's supposed to be bright red, and the doors always creak no matter how much I oil them.

Only when Oli joins me am I reminded of the smell etched into the seats. Three "Hawaiian Dreams" air fresheners are hanging from the rearview mirror, but it's not enough. The resulting scent is tropical cocktails and butts. But no matter how many asses have sat in this car, it's mine, and I love it. I struggled a whole summer at McDonald's to pay for it.

"Sorry for the smell," I say with a wince .

"Believe it or not, I've been in worse cars."

"That, I don't believe," I chuckle.

Half an hour later, we're at my new place. I parallel park miserably the first time and much better when I try again. Oli, thankfully, says nothing. Tami's already here, ready to help me with the boxes.

"Hey, roomie!" I sign with a broad smile.

"Hi, Andy!"

We share a quick hug, and then she does the same with Oli.

"I'm sorry, guys, the elevator malfunctioned during the night, so we'll have to carry everything up the stairs," she explains with a wince.

Oh, God! No! Not this!

After a few seconds, she lets out a small, breathy laugh, and so does Oli. "Sorry, I'm joking," she signs. "He texted me to do it."

I let out a reassured sigh and give Oli's arm a feeble punch. "Ouch! Gentle there, Rocky." He rubs the spot, pleased with his joke.

In barely ten minutes, the car is empty, and we're on the elevator up, pressed against one another.

Between the boxes and the three of us, there isn't much room for comfort. Stuck between Oli and Tami, with my entire front pressed against his, I feel strange. Although there's a pleasant, friendly warmth, there isn't any spark there. Nothing compared to the last time I was plastered against a man in an elevator.

I know for a fact that if it was Alexander Coleman instead of Oli, my entire body would be on fire.

It really isn't fair. Why can't we choose who we desire or love? Everything would be so much easier if I could want Oliver as much as I crave Alexander. I can see it working. We click very well, and the connection of our minds is a rare thing.

I'm almost sure that Oli likes me. His offer to help me out today is proof of it. Why else would anyone endure the nightmare that is moving out? Especially if it's for an acquaintance of five days. Kate—my relationship expert—seems confident that Oli likes me that way. I, however, am not ready yet for more than platonic interactions.

I'm taken out of my thoughts as we reach Tami's floor and the doors part, revealing a corridor with beige walls and blue carpet. We take everything out of the elevator to free it, and she guides us down the hallway.

The main door opens to a small entrance hallway with closets on the walls and a shoe organizer. At the end of that hallway, we enter the living area by two windows, with a cushioned couch, an armchair, and a coffee table made of wooden crates. There's also a sixty-inch flat screen on a low console. There are three doors right in front of us, and a kitchen to the left. It looks well-equipped, and although I'm not fond of cooking, I'm glad making meals won't be too much of a chore.

Tami goes for one of the three doors, the one on the right, and opens it before going inside. We follow her, and I discover my new bedroom. It's as warm as the rest of the apartment, with a sash window that leads to the fire exit. My selective brain decides to ignore the fact that it's an easy way in for robbers and only think of the fresh air I can get from there, like in movies. Or maybe escape a psycho killer. Hopefully, I won't need to.

It takes us another five minutes to get all my boxes in there, and then Tami offers us a cold drink to satiate our thirst. As we sit down to drink it, I pull my phone out and order pizzas and beers for everyone. I need to thank Oli for helping me out and Tami for taking me in.

They're delighted by my offering and insist on helping me unpack as we eat. Oli's in charge of setting up my computer, and Tami gets my kitchen box because she'll know better than me what's redundant.

"That's a nice setup you have here," Oli appreciatively says as he looks through the clear computer case.

"Thanks. I need a new graphics board, but it works well for now."

Instead of answering, he frowns and points to his mouth. "You have…"

"What?"

"You've got—Wait, let me get it for you."

Displaying a boldness I haven't seen from him yet, he reaches for my face and swipes the pad of his thumb under my bottom lip. The pleasant sensation of his gentle fingertip reminds me how desperately touch-deprived I am. A nine-month dry spell will do that.

He shows me his thumb, where there's some tomato sauce. I don't even have time to be embarrassed about it and all but gape when he engulfs it in his mouth. Stunned by how flirty the gesture is, I stand there like an idiot with my mouth open while he returns to the computer to plug the screen in.

Maybe chemistry can be fabricated because I'm feeling almost lightheaded now. Damn…

It's nearly nine when I escort Oli out. He probably would have stayed longer, but I feel bad about taking even more of his time.

"Thanks again, Oli. I don't know what I would have done without you," I say as we step outside.

"You're welcome, Hulkette. Oh! Almost forgot." He reaches for something in his leather messenger bag, and hands me a square package wrapped in craft paper.

"Are you kidding? You're the one who helped, and I get the present? "

"Well, it's a housewarming gift."

I don't even know what to say, staring at him with my jaw hanging open. "Open it before you complain, woman. It's nothing. A trinket," he defends himself.

Since I don't know how to handle his generosity, I say nothing for once. After a brief hesitation, I take the package and carefully rip the paper open. It's a blank cardboard box. The lid opens easily, and a mug reveals itself. I take it out, and a laugh escapes me as I see what's on it. It has to be the ugliest, most kitsch mug I've ever seen, with a sunset, pearly glaze all over, and a dolphin as the handle.

"I know you wanted your own mug at work, and I found this masterpiece at Goodwill, so I had to get it for you."

I gaze up at him with a chuckle. "Thanks, Oli, it's perfect," I say before getting on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He tenses for a second before a blush slowly creeps up his face. Ah, that's adorable…

"Are you sure you don't want me to pay for an Uber?" I offer, knowing he'll refuse as he did the first four times.

"Yeah, there's a bus going right to my street. We're practically neighbors now," he explains with a wink as he walks backward and away from me. "I'll see you on Monday, Andy! Have fun with the rest of your unpacking!"

"Thanks! And thank you again for everything!"

With one of his trademark friendly smiles, he gives me one last wave and walks away.

I'm still grinning when I return to my new apartment. Tami is in the living room, eyes on the TV where an episode of Friends unfolds.

I give her a broad smile when she notices me and head into my new room. I video call Kate to proudly show her I finally unboxed my stuff. She's delighted about my improved situation and asks me loads of questions about the neighborhood and Tami. Once we hang up, I have the same call with my parents.

It takes me a couple of hours until I'm completely done unboxing everything, but I finally feel like Seattle can become my home. As I lie in my new bed, showered and ready for the night, I no longer feel like a stranger in a new city.

As I replay the week in my head, my mind inevitably drifts to Alexander Coleman. There's something about him that I can't shake off. Is it because he's terribly intelligent? Or because he seems so unattainable? Oh, it could be that jawline and the stubble that accentuates it. Maybe it's because of how hard his chest was when a bunch of wild lawyers and traders shoved me into it .

My covers become unbearable, so I push a leg out in the colder air of the room. The man really has an effect on me. Especially when I recall how nice he smells, how bewitching his eyes are, his deep voice…

Okay, I need to do something about this horniness because it's getting out of hand. Without a second thought, I pull down my pajama bottoms and underwear and reach for Idris in my nightstand. I finally found it in one of the boxes, where Kate hid it as "motivation to unpack."

With it in hand, I open an incognito tab on my phone, type in my trusted ethical porn site's domain, and start scrolling through the options. I'm picky, so I only find something suitable on page three.

My eyes are glued to the couple on my phone fucking each other to oblivion as my hand travels south to press the vibrating little hole right over my clit. For five entire minutes, I play my clit like a maestro, but it's not enough. The sensation is enjoyable, but nothing is building up. I'll need ages to come like this.

I'm either not in the mood after all, or the three videos I've tried aren't good enough.

Time to change strategies. I dismiss the phone and close my eyes instead. Pleasure happens in the brain, so it may work if I can focus on it.

I conjure a mental image of a dashing man worshiping me. The dark-haired hunk in my mind slowly moves down my stomach, laying kisses and bites on my skin until he reaches between my thighs. My breathing quickens, and I press Idris a little harder on me. A shiver runs through my body as I imagine gray eyes gazing up at me, intense and domineering.

Yes! I'm rapidly getting there.

In the fantasy I'm fabricating, the man darts out his pink tongue and slowly samples me. My legs tremble, and I whimper. Fuck, this is working so well. Changing the pressure, I imagine his tongue licking me, teasing my most sensitive spot, his hands holding my thighs apart so that I have no choice but to endure the sweet torture. I can feel my orgasm right around the corner. A few more seconds, and I'll reach it.

I look down in my fantasy, and my whole body goes tense when I see him . Alexander fucking Coleman. It's not a vaguely-faced stranger anymore. It's my very real, very alive boss.

My first instinct is to stop everything and remove Idris from my clit, but I'm so, so close… With a trembling breath, I close my eyes harder and keep the fantasy alive, imagining my boss devouring me. He isn't so obnoxious now, lowered between my legs, eating me out.

A moan escapes me, and my left leg begins to tremble. In my fantasy, Alexander travels up, laying more kisses on me, and meets my eyes as he whispers, "You taste so fucking good, Andrea." Then, this perfect, not-so-frustrating version of him reaches between us and aligns himself with my soaked opening.

The instant fantasy-Lex thrusts inside me, I tilt into a bone-melting orgasm. I can't contain the small cry that escapes me, but I guess it's okay. If there's one perk to having a deaf roommate, it's that she can't hear what goes on in my room.

I keep Idris pressed right where I need him, drawing out my orgasm until it becomes uncomfortable, and I turn it off. Then, panting and disoriented, what I just did sinks in as I stare up at the white ceiling of my new room.

Fuck. I just gave myself one of the best orgasms of my life thinking of my boss.

What the hell, Andy?!

How am I supposed to face him on Monday? How can I look him in the eye and not think of the fact that I imagined him eating me out?

With a groan, I roll until my face is in my pillow, and let out a frustrated scream.

I'm such a fucking idiot…