"No it's fine. Yeah dad I like it. No God please don't, I'm a big girl you don't need to check up on me. Ok, love you too."
Hanging up the phone I continue to carry these heavy boxes up a flight of steps to my apartment.
Huffing and puffing I drop the box at my front door searching my bag for my keys.
"Do you need help miss?" A deep voice asks.
Shaking my keys free I shake my head no unlocking the door heading inside.
I am more than capable of doing this myself, thank you very much.
I have never been prouder than anything more than this one bedroom apartment. A cute kitchen with a breakfast nook, a cute bathroom and a giant bedroom that takes up most of the space.
I drop my box and keys down heading back out to grab the rest of my stuff. I hit my toe on a box sitting in front of my door.
"What the?" All my stuff is up here.
Marching over to my neighbor's door I knock twice before the door is pulled open.
I am met by the handsomest man I've ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.
It takes me a few minutes to remember why I'm angry but it comes back.
"I said I didn't need your help." I bite crossing my arms.
He smirks down at me with his grey eyes. In all his shirtless glory he pulls his honey blonde dreads into a bun before leaning back against his doorframe.
As if I can't already tell you're a total meat head.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." He shrugs.
"Oh right so my stuff just walked itself up here?"
He runs his tongue across his plump pink lips nodding. "Mhm."
Great a smartass.
"Ugh haven't even lived here a whole 24 hours and already the neighbor is annoying." I grumble spinning on my heels.
"Stop staring at my ass."
He chuckles, "You eyed me with no mercy; thought I'd just return the favor."
"You've done enough thank you."
"Anything for you Queenie."
A thousand hours later I reach for my last box but it doesn't budge. Why do I own so many books?!
I try pushing,pulling, lifting, and finally kicking the box. "Damn you books."
Looking at his door I gnaw on my thumb nail fighting with myself to ask him for help.
After the bitch fit I threw I wouldn't blame him if he said no.
Checking my pride at the door I walk back over this time knocking once.
The door flies open, still shirt less and smirking he laughs, "Let me guess now you need me."
"I don't need you fool, I would like your help though."
"Oh Queenie I thought you'd never ask." His voice drips with sarcasm as he walks past me lifting the box with ease.
The way his back muscles ripple at his quick movement sends butterflies to the pit of my stomach.
"Queenie where's this going?"
"My name is Sophia." I grit out. "Just drop it anywhere please."
He places it near my bookshelf proceeding to put them away nicely.
"Um you don't have to-"
"I already started, might as well finish."
"Thanks." I pass him to go in the kitchen grabbing two cups. Guess I better be a good person and offer a drink.
"Thirsty?"
He nods.
"I have lemonade."
"My favorite." He winks at me.
Pouring two cups I sit on the counter watching him work. When he's satisfied with the shelf he walks over to me standing between my legs chugging his drink.
"Uh um what are you doing?"
Placing his cup down he smoothes a hand over my lips before licking his finger. "You spilled some."
Scooting back from him on the counter he grins pulling me back flush against him. "I'm Tristan."
"N-nice to meet you." I stutter pushing him back so I can get off the counter.
"You can go now."
"You're right I have to get ready for work. I'll see you around." Tristan grips my chin firmly kissing my cheek, his beard tickling my face.
"Bye Queenie."
He shuts my door leaving me standing there in awe of him. What just happened?
