Love Under Quarantine

“I’m not going out on the balcony with my butt on display.”

A heavy sigh. “Come on…you put on those little shorts.”

“That show a lot of cheek!”

He grins. “I know.” He waggles his brows. “I had to try. You know I had to try.”

“Mmm hmm.” I slump down on the sofa, alternating sips of coffee and smoothie. “And I appreciate your enthusiasm for seeing my cellulite in the cold light of day.”

“I love your curves, baby. You’re perfect from head to toe and I refuse to hear any different.”

“You’re awfully good for my ego, Mr. Sparks.”

His voice drops by about an octave as he says, “I intend to be good for you in a lot of ways.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Gah. My mind has officially melted. “That’s the smile I need for my cell wallpaper. That exact one.”

“Later on I’ll send you a picture,” he promises.

“Why thank you.”

“Finish up your breakfast and I’ll see you on the balcony for yoga, okay?”

“It’s a date.”My cell chimes and a picture of Eamon appears on screen. He’s grinning and flexing an arm. Oh, my. So many muscles. And he knows what the sight of his body does to me. Since we’re both still isolating for fourteen days for safety, I’m back in my own apartment. I’m not sure if this is the right decision or not. The man muddles up my mind and stirs my hormones to peak crazy conditions. But at the end of the day, we barely know each other.

He says he wants to get to know me. So, I’m going to let him. From a distance.

We may have gotten much closer than six feet as a result of the mugging and him recusing me. However, a little caution now won’t hurt. I don’t want to be a momentary distraction for him. Nothing against one-night stands, but this time I want more. As scary as things are right now, he makes me feel things. Good things. Things I don’t want to take for granted. Or get prematurely attached to in case he changes his mind.

“Come out on the balcony,” he texts.

After first fluffing up my hair and applying a little lip gloss, I do just that. And he’s waiting, looking so good it ought to be a sin. He has this dimple in his chin that drives me wild. And then there’s the knowing look in his eyes. Like he has a hand down my panties and knows exactly the state they’re in. My face heats at the thought.

“Katie, you’re blushing.” He grins and my knees go weak.

“I was just…doing things.”

He tips his chin. “What sort of things?”

“You know, cleaning, scrubbing the tub,” I lie. Because staring into space and daydreaming about him was the only thing I’ve successfully accomplished so far today. Also, I am obviously a conversation mastermind. Next, I’ll give him a step by step about cleaning the toilet. “How about you?”

“You can definitely give me a good scrub in the shower anytime you like.” There’s a smile in his gaze. A particularly heated one. “Ain’t No Sunshine” by Bill Withers plays softly on his stereo and the song only adds to the atmosphere building between us.

My mouth hangs open. He did not just say that. “Eamon. I…the things you say. This is all happening so fast.”

“Beautiful, you’ve been spying on me for the last week.”

“That’s so embarrassing. You knew all along? I can’t believe you didn’t say something.”

“I not only knew, but I liked it. A lot,” he says, a hint of a growl in his voice. As if men like him even considered getting in deep with girls like me. “Don’t stare at the ground, Katie. Look at me. See me.”

Emotion all but chokes me. “I do, Eamon.”

“And I see you too.”

All I can do is sigh. This is a dream. It must be. My prince charming stands across from me on his balcony in basketball shorts and nothing more. His proud manhood tents the front of them so large and erect it’s vaguely threatening. Could a girl even hope of witnessing a more glorious sight? The passion he has for me. The fervor.

Immediately, his expression turns to one of pure conviction. “Come to me, Katie. Come for me.”

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” I swallow hard, my throat so dry it’s painful. “We have to be apart.”I re-read the page I just sent Zahra via e-mail and click back over to Facebook Messenger and watch the little bubbles as she types on her side of the world.

Zahra: Good God, this couple is hilarious. And hot.

Me: Thank you, ma’am. Figure we could all do with laughter right about now. Sending more pages soon. How are you?

Zahra: Children are running amuck and I’m on the verge of day drinking. The prize at homeschool today will be awarded to whichever student manages to not annoy the living shit out of their principal and teacher—moi.