The Foster Girls #3: Elizabeth

Chapter 3: Elizabeth

My new neighbor was gorgeous. There's no other word for his gloriousness. He looked like the warriors that populated my company's video games. Unbelievably tall, as wide as a house and with sculpted muscles that looked like they could lift mountains. His face was rough perfection; no pretty boy here. He was all man with sharp cheekbones and a square jaw. His nose was just off center enough to let me know it'd been broken at least once. And his hair! Thick, black and cut short, complementing his icy grey eyes. And, of course, he had a damn girlfriend! Gah! The first man who'd captured my attention ever and he had a girlfriend. Double gah!

I'd seen him coming out of his apartment to say good-bye to his girlfriend and had lost all brain function. Fortunately, all of my sisters' lessons came back to me. "Rule #1: Introduce yourself," I could hear them saying. So I had. Social interaction was tough for me, and between my shyness and a traumatic foster experience, talking to other people was painful for me. My best friends, whom I considered my sisters – Willow, Harper and Finland – had talked with me about it at length and we'd decided a checklist to go through would be good for someone whose mind was as analytical and logical as mine. It was just the way I rolled.

Then rule #2, shake hands. So I'd done that, even though he looked like he wanted to laugh. But his hand was so huge it absolutely engulfed mine and I found myself wanting to keep holding it. But then...hello, girlfriend, so I let go.

When he started talking about his hockey hobby, I moved to rule #3: If they offer information, offer similar information back. So clearly, he was talking about what he did for exercise, so I reciprocated. The girls would be so proud of their little pet project. Their next major goal after getting me to be more comfortable talking to people was to get me out on an actual date.

I think I handled that second encounter with Rig well, other than the slight mishap with his name, although I'd had to cut it short because my email notification had chimed and I'd been waiting to hear from another programmer on my project. It had been nice of Rig to thank me. Several other neighbors had stopped by as well, including a nice graphic designer who lived two doors down and a retired school teacher who lived in the end unit. Harper had been right: handing out cookies had been a good way to meet my neighbors.

The next morning, I was leaving for my run when Rig's door opened and he stood there in nothing but a loose pair of basketball shorts and no shirt. Did I mention no shirt? Holy freaking muscles – the man should not just appear like that without warning. The view momentarily distracted me from the fact that his girlfriend was again leaving.

Wait a minute.

That wasn't the same woman as yesterday.

Was Rig a cheater?

Oh, major disappointment.

How would I ever look his girlfriend in the eye if I saw her again? Did this woman know she was the other woman?

I mumbled a quick good morning and shot down the hallway. I opted for the stairs so I wouldn't have to be stuck on the elevator with the other woman.

I found it easy to pound out the miles that day. Such a waste of a good-looking man. He was a cheater and for some reason that made me really angry. Maybe I felt bad for the clueless women, maybe I felt like someone that good-looking should have an equally beautiful soul to match. Either way, he was now firmly in the creep category.