“Thank you.” I allowed him to adjust my wrap and press a kiss to my cheek.
I couldn’t help permitting the kiss. Micah could easily make me beam with pride. Mature and debonair, he defined a class act.
“Shall we?”
Not once did he try for more than my company. He wasn’t in a relationship. And, aside from being married to his job, he led a fairly uncomplicated life. I believed our simplistic arrangement survived three years because of its uncomplicated nature.
I trusted him, something I didn’t do easily. He encouraged and guided me in the gentlest manner possible. And, in a way, I believed he depended on me, too. Men like Micah didn’t rely on many people, something we had in common.
He took my keys as we exited the apartment, and I waited as he fastened the locks. My gaze snagged on the moving dial above the elevator, and my heart stuttered.
Someone was coming.
There were only two of us on this floor, so chances of it being Noah were pretty high. His imminent approach filled me with an uncomfortable emotion, one I struggled to identify and had a hard time hiding from my date.
Micah passed me my keys, and I tucked them into my clutch just as the doors to the elevator parted. My breath escaped in a relieved sigh as a man I didn’t recognize entered the hall. The scent of Chinese food wafted from the brown bag he carried, and I knew we only had a few seconds before my neighbor opened his door.
Set on avoiding Noah, very aware of the things he made me feel, the way he looked at me like he wanted to taste me, the way something dark awakened inside of me when I felt his stare on my body—and all the ways we were incompatible, I kept my gaze down. I didn’t need complications and Noah couldn’t be anything else.
I had my own game I wanted to play—be the untouchable goddess across the hall. When the game changed, I didn’t want to play anymore.
Noah was the sort of man who looked comfortable in designer clothes, drove a beautiful garage-kept car, and seemed used to getting his way. The opposite of my type. So why was I obsessed with him?
He was the sort of man I accepted as a client, not the sort I invited into my bed. But, oh, to tie him to my bed…
Never. Going. To. Happen.
Noah was dangerous. If I kept reminding myself of that, the warning might sink in.
Micah rested a familiar hand on the base of my spine as we entered the elevator and turned.
The deliveryman knocked, and Noah’s door opened. My breath drew deep and held as my neighbor stepped into the hall.
Noah’s potent blue gaze clashed with mine, and the world went utterly still.
“Is everything okay?” Micah’s stare needled at my side, but my gaze remained locked with Noah’s, trapped in that sticky stillness.
No babies were born, no tears were shed, no birds flapped their wings, and no wind blew. Eerily motionless, time stuttered for that shared second between us, and the moment belonged to only us, no one else could touch it.
And then the spell broke, snapping like a stretch of elastic pulled too far. All of the energy in between lagged and drooped as his gaze drifted over my gown and lifted to Micah.
Noah’s lips firmed, and I could taste his displeasure. Not my problem, I reminded myself. I had a job to do, and doing my neighbor wasn’t part of it. And I didn’t do guilt.
Micah leaned forward to press the button.
We shared an address, nothing more. I had no business behaving like some starry-eyed tween and knew better. If he knew who I really was, he’d know better, too.
The doors closed, and I forced myself to forget about Noah and focus on my date.
“Are you friendly with your neighbor?”
My gaze lifted to Micah’s face. “Why do you ask?”
“You didn’t say hello. Do you not get along?”
“We only met once. I hardly see him.” Because I’m excellent at avoidance.
“No need to get defensive, Avery. I was only asking a question. If there’s a problem with your neighbor, we could see about having you moved to a different floor.”
I swallowed a laugh. The high demand building didn’t have vacancies unless someone passed away or got evicted. No one voluntarily left such luxury. Even the apartments on the surrounding blocks had waiting lists. Yet, I somehow knew Micah could have me moved within one business day.
“I love my apartment, Micah. I’m sure my neighbor and I won’t have any issues.”
“Good.”
He escorted me through the lobby, and my gaze snagged on the copy of Cosmo resting by the row of brass mailboxes. My guilty pleasure. I intended to devour the magazine in bed tonight after Micah dropped me off.
5
Avery
After another pleasant evening out, Micah escorted me to the elevator, and my gaze lingered on the row of mailboxes, not a single piece of mail littering the mantle. Someone better have stuck my magazine in my box, or there was going to be a problem.
After a polite goodbye and a soft kiss on my brow, I said goodnight and stripped out of my gown. Plucking the pins from my hair, I searched for my slippers. There was really nothing quite as lovely as pajamas and slippers.
Heading back down to the lobby, not caring about my appearance at one a.m., I unlocked my mailbox and—
Empty.
Frowning, I scanned the antique tables decorating the pristine sitting room of our lobby. Nothing.
Beyond the lobby sat the main vestibule. The doorman sat behind an ornate desk with his back to the security monitors, his focus on his phone and an amused grin pulling at his caramel lips.
“Winston, did someone throw away the mail that was on the mantle?”
He looked more alertly in my direction, straightening his posture and adjusting the visor of his black Pershing hat. “No, ma’am. That would be a federal offense. Are you missing something?”
“Someone stole my magazine.”
He raised his brow, and I heard how stupid the accusation sounded. People in this building didn’t steal magazines. If they were set on stealing anything, embezzling millions seemed a more appropriate crime for their tax bracket. But someone had taken my magazine.
“Perhaps it didn’t get delivered yet.”
But I saw it there earlier. “You’re sure no one messed with the mail?”
He straightened the notched lapel of his jacket, the gold trim matching the cuffs and creases of his pants. “You’re the only one who had an outside guest in the building this evening. Well, you and Mr. Wolfe.”
“Mr. Wolfe?”
Winston grinned. “Your neighbor.”
Wolf, lion, thief… Regardless, he was dangerous.
“Oh.”
Wait…
Trying not to appear overly curious in my neighbor’s life, I casually asked, “He had company tonight?” Was his guest male or female?
“Just a supper delivery, but I watched the cameras the entire time the man was in the building, and he didn’t go near the mailboxes, Ms. Johansson.”
My gaze darted to the surveillance screen. Five views captured the front entrance, each floor, and the lobby. “Can you see who did?”
“Uh, I could, but that involves rolling back the tapes and interrupting the feed. I’m not the person to do that. I’m sure it’s just a simple misunderstanding, another neighbor mistaking the magazine for their own. How about I give you the four dollars to purchase a new one and from now on I’ll ask the mailman to leave any extra items for you at my desk?”