She reluctantly steps down and moves the stool out of the way, letting me out the door. On my way back inside I run into Alex coming out of his apartment and he gives me a wide smile.
“Hey, cowboy, how’s unpacking going?” he asks.
I don’t get a chance to answer because my door opens and Peyton steps out. “It’s going fine, handsome,” she practically purrs, then thrusts her small hand out. “I’m Peyton. Bentley’s friend.”
“Ahh, yes, I remember you from the bar,” Alex says, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Alex.”
“You don’t want to come in and lend us a hand do you?” she asks.
“I wish I could but I’m actually headed to work.” He turns to me. “I’ll see you later, right?Supernatural?”
I nod and he gives me another grin. “Great.” He turns to Peyton. “See you later, too, gorgeous.”
Lord, I think Peyton might pass out when Alex winks at her before he saunters off.
“No,” I say when he’s out the door and Peyton’s gaze is still locked on his retreating figure.
“You’re so mean,” she chides as I grip her arm and pull her back inside the apartment. She turns to me. “Also, did he call you cowboy?”
Jesus Christ. My cheeks flame. “Maybe,” I mumble.
“Uh huh, and what did he mean,Supernatural?”
I shrug. “He hasn’t seen it so I’m introducing him.”
I swear her eyes have hearts in them. “Ahh, you guys aregoing to have the cutest little bromance.” She punches my arm.
I have no idea why, but I’m actually blushing. “Work, woman,” I tell her, shoving her towards the mountain of still full boxes. We’ve made some progress, but there’s still quite a bit left to do.
She sighs but grabs the scissors and starts on a box labeled “kitchen” while grousing, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”
I just shake my head and keep unpacking.
Alex
It’s a few days later that I’m sliding my winter jacket on and shoving my feet into my sneakers, ready to head to work for the night. I’m in a bit of a hurry since I’m running late. I went on a run this morning, and by morning I mean eleven because I was up past two in the morning working. After showering and drinking a smoothie I worked on my taxes until I thought my brain was going to explode, and then curled up on the sofa with Marble andPride and Prejudice,only to proceed to fall asleep an hour later. And now I’m hustling so my brother doesn’t give me grief about being late again. He’s a stickler for punctuality. He used to drive me to work, but stopped since I was never ready as early as he wanted me to be. To be fair, his idea of on time is ten to fifteen minutes early. Now, though, I’m running about fifteen minutes late and I can just picture the look on my little brother’s face when I walk in. Tommy might be seven years younger than me, twenty-two to my twenty-nine, but of the two of us, he’s the hard ass. Well, with me anyway, and our other coworkers, which is why our parents made him the manager as soon as he turned twenty-one. With hishusband, Pierre, he’s a mega softy. Pierre’s such a sweet guy, though, I don’t think anyone could get mad at him.
I leave my apartment and make my way outside, only to stop in my tracks when I see the mounds of snow on top of my car and encasing it on all sides.
Shit. I tilt my head back and groan. I am going to hear about it from Tommy for sure now. I’m pulling my gloves out of my coat pockets, ready to put them on and get to shoveling when Bentley pulls into the parking lot and glides into the space a couple spots over from mine.
I wave and he waves back, his headlights going out before he climbs out of his car. I’m just thinking about how not fun it’s going to be to shovel in the fucking dark when he says, “You need a hand?” And what the fuck? Why is my dick twitching at the sound of his deep southern drawl? I don’t know, but a shiver races down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold. I really don’t have time to psychoanalyze that right now, however, so I shove whatever that reaction was aside and dig my phone out of my pocket, ready to text my brother and let him know I’ll be half an hour late. Fuck.
“Yeah, if you have a minute, and an extra shovel, that would be amazing,” I tell Bentley. “I’m late for work and Tommy is gonna bust my balls.”
“Tommy, your brother?” he asks, hands shoved into his thick, thigh length coat, shoulders up around his ears. He has his turquoise scarf on, too, and there’s snowflakes in his hair and beard, and clinging to his long eyelashes. He shivers visibly.
I realize I’m staring at him when his cheeks flush and I clear my throat. “Yeah, he works with me at the bar and he’s a bit anal about being on time.”
“You want me to give you a ride?” he asks, looking like he might just turn into a human popsicle if he doesn’t getinside soon. It’s cold out, for sure, but being in the low twenties is normal, and I’ve adapted over the years. I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't stand out here for shits and giggles, but I can tolerate it. “Might be faster.”
“That would be amazing,” I tell him, shoving my phone back in my pocket without texting Tommy, then hurrying over to the passenger side door of Bentley’s car and climbing inside. He slides into the driver’s seat a second later and starts the car, his teeth chattering as he does, making me laugh.
“Cold?” I ask as he pulls out of the parking spot.
He blushes again. “I’m from Georgia, remember? And this is the first winter I’ve experienced up north. You all are crazy for living here on purpose.”
I laugh. “You’ll get used to it. Aren’t you here on purpose?”
