The writer and the boxer - a sweet romance

Chapter 6

"Miche, I met the sexiest hunk of a man who happens to be a boxer," I whispered into my mobile.

I've known Michelle for ten years. I was the chubby one and she was the cute, slim one. I was the funny one, and she was the adult. Or do I was told. She sometimes joked about my size. Most days it never played in my mind, some days I felt weird laughing at the far jokes.

"Where in blazes did you meet this 'supposed man'?"

"In the elevator of my building."

"Are you kidding me? Are you sure he isn't the janitor or something?" she answered distracted and I knew she was dealing with my god-daughter Sophia.

"How is Sophia?" I ask. Showing empathy for her motherhood.

"She is struggling with me, not wanting to take her bath." I hear the frown in her voice and imagine the thirteen month old wrestling with my nearest and dearest friend.

"So the janitor," she resumes speaking, "where does he hail from?"

"The boxer and he is apartment-sitting for a neighbour on the third floor."

I know she is mentally going through who she knows in the building or have seen coming in and out therefore I await her synopsis.

"Maybe its that sexy reds on the third floor. Slim girl who looks like she is a model but with too much makeup," she said to me nonchalantly.

"Uhm, I didn't ask," switching the headset to my other ear.

"And why are you whispering to me Jen?" Her annoyance is heard as she probably had to strain her ear to hear me over the gurgling of Sophia.

"I didn't even realise but for some reason I can't speak about him in my normal tone of voice," I say in my normal tone and smiling.

"You like him huh?" I hear my friend ask to which I reply with a nod. She laughs in the phone, "honey I can't see the bloody nod but I'm guessing you did and do."

I laugh and we chit chat for a few more minutes making our own suggestions as to whom 'the strange boxer' could be house-sitting for. Miche knew my schedule did not leave slots for 'meeting guys' so I either had to have met 'boxer guy' virtually or in the building so he really had to be the janitor. I found the thought amusing and proceeded to assume my position at my desk feeling a surge of inspiration coming on.

My mobile vibrates and I smile as I notice the name. He hadn't contacted me in days. Not that I cared, but it was nice to see his name once again, gracing my mobile.

"The building siren has sung her song and now I can't seem to get her voice out my head"

"I would love to indulge you but my current inspiration has my mind meandering and my fingers clacking away"

"Do I detect an extra enthusiasm for words after such an entertaining dinner-mate? I feel honored that I can inspire someone especially a siren"

"My dinner-mate may have 'helped' but isn't the main object of my inspiration. My music plays an integral part also"

"Ah! Such sweet sound you make. I hope you have a productive time at your desk. Watching you helps the time pass very fast. So glad I took the job of apartment-sitting now that I have met you"

I gulped as I raised my eyes and scan the near horizon for the hazel I have been dreaming, neigh meditating about.

"You must be solely enticed and smitten by my song to have produced such stalker-like behaviour. I bid you adieu as I have a few things to pen"

I wave to him and turned my attention to my work peeping every now-and-then to see if he was actually focused on me. Each time I peeped through eyelashes I saw him watching me with intent.

Maybe he has even seen me undressed at night or during the day. The thought sent a sensation through my tummy down passing my thighs.

For a writer I really should have a grip on some of my senses but they really haven't developed much as I wanted to become really engrossed in what I do. My time for extra-curricular activities were kept at minimum and now I wondered what sensation was that I felt and why was I feeling it.

I forgot about it for a while and turned my attention back to my writing. I needed these poems to jump off the page and into hearts of those who will be reading it.

My mobile vibrates and I jumped once again, stunned as I totally forgot about phones and people on the outside. Not even bothering to read the sender I open the message to find:

"Would the building siren grace me with a casual walk around the savannah? Her company would be most appreciated"

"Maybe I can spare a few minutes as I need a break from sitting at my desk"

" I await your presence downstairs. L8r"

I settle my back in the chair and look across to see him rising from the seat he called home for the same time I was in front of my computer. I smile, 'maybe I was not in the friend zone after all' and I got up making my way down to meet the boxing stranger.