Play (Stage Dive 2)

Work had picked up in the afternoon. There’d been no more time for worry, or bitter and twisted thoughts. Definitely a good thing. Now, I was ten types of tired. Two hours of sleep and stressing over money had done me in. The icy cold wind I’d walked in after getting off the MAX had frozen my neck and the tip of my nose. Any chocolate- and booze-fetching plan had flown straight out the window. I wanted a bath and bed. That was my entire plan for the night and it was a beautiful thing.

In a daze, I slid my key into the lock, which was when the door flew in–it wasn’t even latched. Balance shot to shit, I fell, face planting in the middle of a hot, hard, sweaty chest.

I oomphed.

He grunted.

Strong hands grabbed me about the waist, holding me steady. A good thing, I really needed a hand right then or my ass might’ve met the floor. Perhaps I’d entered the wrong apartment. My mind had been elsewhere, worlds away from reality. Another apartment would certainly explain the delicious warm body I was up against.

Since when did sweat smell so good?

It was all I could do not to rub my face in, breathing deep. A sniff or two shouldn’t be going too far. Discreetly done, of course.

“Anne. Dude.” The chest vibrated beneath my cheek. “Welcome home!”

I knew that voice. I did. But what the hell was it doing in my apartment? Stunned, I blinked up at a familiar beautiful face. “Mal?”

“’Course it’s me.” He laughed. “You on drugs or something? You shouldn’t do drugs. They’re not good for you.”

“I’m not doing drugs.” Though drugs might have gone a ways toward explaining what I was seeing. Because what I was seeing was surreal. “You’re here.”

No doubt about it. He definitely was. I would know because my hands were still all over his hot, half-naked body. My hormones sidetracked any thoughts about their removal. I couldn’t blame them.

“I know,” he said. “Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah. Wow.”

He nodded.

I stared. How the hell did he get in? The door had been locked when I left.

“How was work?” he asked.

“Fine. Thank you.”

He smiled down at me. “I was expecting you hours ago.”

“Yeah, I had to close up and some people came in at the last minute. Mal, why are you here in my apartment without a shirt on? How did that happen?”

“It got hot moving shit.” He rolled his neck, stretching out the muscles. “You’re only on the second floor, but the stairs start to add up, you know? Nate and Lauren helped out for a bit, then they had to go. Anyway, not like you care, right? No dress code I need to know about?”

I still stared. Words came out of his mouth but they continued to make no sense. Nothing about this did.

His eyes narrowed on me. “Hang on, I’ve got my shirt off and everything and you’re not giving me crazy eyes. What’s with that?”

“Ah, I guess I’m too surprised at seeing you here.”

His brows descended, as did the corners of his gorgeous lips. The man looked seriously sad. “Been looking forward to it all day.”

“Sorry.”

“Never mind. Come on, check it out.” He pulled me into the apartment, my apartment, slamming the door shut behind me. Not answering the important question about his presence even a little. But what was truly upsetting was the way he separated my hands from his body. They wept silently. Either that or I was sweating. Most likely the latter. He had the weirdest effect on me.

“Ta-da,” he sang, waving a hand about in a grand gesture, presenting my small living room to me.

“Wow.”

“Awesome, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! I knew you’d love this.”

I stared some more. Then I rubbed my eyes because they were starting to hurt. It was probably from all the bulging but I couldn’t be sure.

What the hell was happening here?

“You moved in with me somehow.” There could be no other reason for an entire drum kit appearing in the corner, let alone all the other stuff. The Twilight Zone had officially been entered. “You … huh. How about that.”

He grimaced and rocked back on the heels of his Chucks. “I know what you’re gonna say, it’s sooner than I thought too. But Davie threw me out today so I figured, why wait?”

I just blinked, the rest of me being too frozen to respond.

“Okay. Long story short, I accidentally saw Ev naked.” He held up his hands, protesting his innocence. “It was only side boob, I swear. No nipple or anything like that. But you know what he’s like with her, the f**king drama queen. He completely lost his shit.”

I nodded. I didn’t actually have a clue, but it seemed a response was required.

“Exactly. As if it’s my fault. It was in the f**king kitchen! I just wanted something to eat and there they are, dry humping against the wall. I didn’t even know she’d gotten home from work. As if I want to see that. It’s like walking in on your folks. Well, except Ev actually has great tits.” His guilty gaze slid to my face. “Alright, there might have been a flash of nipple but I swear it’s not like I went out of my way to see it. Not my fault she was topless. Anyway, Davie went ballistic.”

“He did?”

“Oh yeah. Huge. Harsh words were said. We may have even wrestled slightly. But I forgive him. Love makes you psycho, right?”

“Right.” There was a sentiment I could wholeheartedly get behind. When my first boyfriend broke up with me at sixteen, my tiny little world had been rocked. And look at my mom. She’d lost her shit completely when dad left.

“Mm.”

“So you moved in with me?” I said, ever so slowly piecing the story together.

Mal shrugged. “Well, hell yeah!”

“No, I mean, you actually moved in with me. Here. Into my apartment. Um, how did you get in again, just out of interest?”

“Is this going to be an issue?” he asked with a long, winded sigh. “Anne, come on. We talked about this last night. If you were gonna have a problem with me moving in, that was the time to bring it up, not now.”

“I thought you were joking.”

“Dude, that’s offensive. Why would I joke about important stuff like that?”

“Because you were drunk?”

“I get some of my best ideas under the influence.”

“I didn’t even think you’d remember.”

“Again, offended,” he said. “I’m not some fifteen-year-old. I know what I can handle.”