Apartment 4B

Chapter 18 - Brooke

I’m dancing on the balls of my feet, nervously waiting, and ticking down how many minutes I’m going to be late today.   

“You’re going to wear that spot on the floor out in a moment. He’ll be here any second. Relax, short stuff.”

My head whips around as I quickly glare at him leaning lightly against the wall, silently letting him know I still blame him for all this, before going back to my bouncing. And more than knowing that I’m going to loose my amazing parking spot if I don’t get going soon.

My feet flatten down, and I side eye him while his head tilts to examine me in one of his flannel button up shirts. The smirk on his face growing by the second.

He’s enjoying this way too much... and I am now officially late.

The landlord finally pushes the door open and shuffles quickly towards us, the pile of keys jingling away as he moves.

“Brooklyn, I’m so sorry. If I had known sooner, I would have got my nephew to let you in as soon as you locked yourself out, but I only got Deacon’s call this morning.”

My eyebrow raises at Deacon as the landlord sweeps past me, noting the way he smiles at me, completely guilt free. It was his idea to take the lead and make the call for me, promising me that he left the message while I was in the shower Sunday morning.

It’s surprising news that he essentially trapped me in his place, but also incredibly interesting...

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that Deacon sucks at passing on messages...”

Deacon chuckles away at that, not trying to make eye contact with either of us as the landlord unlocks my door.

“.. But he’s now responsible for getting me to work in peak hour, so I’d say that’s punishment enough.”

I smile widely at Deacon, as he raises an eyebrow back, before shaking out his head.

“Ah women hey, Milo.”

“Oh, I am not getting involved in that one. I have some apologising to do of my own. Never make an off handed comment comparing two women on day one, of a three day trip, Deacon. Especially, if the women in question are sisters..”

I laugh, as I shake my head at the two of them and dash forth into my apartment, the half second it’s open. Flinging my workout wear aside and blindly towards the couch, before yelling over my shoulder as I go.

“I’ll just be five minutes, muscles.”

I can only just hear the returning comment from Milo, my landlord apparently, as I round the corner to the bedroom.

“Strap yourself in mate, that’s what they all say.”

    
           
    

I’m half stumbling, trying to slide on my heel as I hurry back, and trip myself on the damn lounge room rug. Deacon’s hands catch me before I fall too far, wrapping firmly around my shoulders, and I use the fact he’s holding me up to finish sliding on my heel.

“Whoo, slow down. You’re what like, two minutes late. It’ll be fine.”

“More like ten at this stage, and I know, I just don’t like to be... Ok, how do I look? I dressed in a hurry and my hair, well, that just got thrown up haphazardly. It may all come crashing down at any second.”

Keeping hold of me, he leans back, giving me a thorough and hearty inspection. His eyes sliding, gliding, and rounding every single piece of me. I’m a little hot under the collar, and short of breath when his eyes finally come back to mine.