The Sexpert

I might just have the very best studio apartment in the entire world.

So I walk across the square, my checkbook ready to commit, and make my way into the leasing office with a smile on my face, the whole horrible morning behind me and my whole lucky day feeling back in place.

“Eden!”

The greeting makes me turn, just as I’m about to approach the receptionist and tell her I’m here. And there he is. Andrew Hawthorne. The man I now know Pierce has charged with spilling my secrets and ruining my life.

“Hey! Looks like we’re going to be for-real neighbors,” he says. “You don’t have a cup of sugar I can borrow, do you?”

CHAPTER SIX – ANDREW

She doesn’t look happy to see me. She did look happy. Just, like, a second ago when she walked in. And now she looks unhappy.

I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.

“What are you doing here?” she asks. With some definite snark.

“I’m signing my rental agreement. Just like you, I assume.”

“You’re renting?”

“Yeah, I’m renting. Whattayou mean ‘you’re renting?’”

“Whattayou mean what do I mean?”

“I dunno. You said ‘you’re’ like I have scabies or something.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You totally did. You said it like a mean sorority girl.”

I know I’m pushing her buttons. Every word that comes out of my mouth seems to make her more and more upset. And the more upset she gets, somehow, the cuter she gets. Which is why I’m deliberately fucking with her. Which some might call mean, but I would counter that it’s her fault for being so dadgum cute. The sorority girl crack is making her especially flustered.

“I… Wha…? Sorority?” she stammers out.

A piece of her hair falls down in her face as she shakes her head. Her breathing has sped up, which is causing me to notice something that I somehow completely overlooked before. Her breasts are… well, they’re something. Holy shit.

“Um, did I do something wrong? Why are you so upset?” I ask.

“I’m not upset!”

“You’re not?”

“No! I’m not! You’re upset!”

I can feel my brow furrow. I look quizzically from side to side. I take a breath to respond, stop, then try again, “Yeah, I’m really not.”

“Whatever. You stole my charger.”

“That’s what Pierce… I thought we went through this. No, I didn’t.”

“You so did!”

“I gave it back. That’s, I think, by definition, borrowing. Which is what I asked. If I could borrow your charger.”

“You drove off.”

“What did you want me to do? Traffic started moving. I waved for you to follow me, so I could pull over and give it back.”

She starts to protest but stops. “You… That’s what you were waving for?”

“That’s what I was waving for.”

“So I would follow you?”

“So you would follow me.”

“So you could give me back my charger?”

“Affirmative.”

She presses her lips together and pouts. Which is maddeningly adorable. “I totally misread that,” she finally says. And I break up laughing. Oh, my God. This girl is a little weirdo.

I think I love it.

“Well, somebody’s in a good mood.” That’s the leasing agent who has just swooped in with the awkward grace of a herd of ostriches. She’s wearing a grey business suit thing. Like a skirt and jacket-type deal. The jacket has a nametag on it that reads “Cheryl.” “I’m Cheryl,” she says, extending her hand. The nametag didn’t lie.

“Hi, Cheryl, I’m Andrew. This is Eden,” I say, gesturing to Eden.

“Oh.” She looks down at a binder she’s carrying. “Eden…Presley, yes?” Eden nods. “And Andrew… Oh.” Her tone changes and she swallows a little. “Oh, Mr. Hawthorne, yes. Hello. Such a pleasure. I’m Cheryl.” She extends her hand. Again.

I shake this time. “Uh, yeah. Hi.” I look over at Eden, who cocks her head to the side. I shrug and bounce my eyebrows.

“But you’re…” says Cheryl. “You’re not… together? Are you?”

“Oh, no. No. No way,” blurts Eden. Both Cheryl and I stare at her somewhat emphatic denial. “I mean… No. We’re not.”

Sighing, I say, “Yeah. That’s for sure. We’re definitely not. Together. We’re just…y’know…old friends.” I wink at Eden, who scrunches up her face and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Oh, man. Oh, man. Oh, man.

“Oh, well, that’s lovely!” proclaims Cheryl. “Well, then, how about we get your rental agreements signed and I can show you both the property.”

“Sounds great,” I say, brightly, matching Cheryl. I don’t even do it mockingly. Cheryl’s just one of those people who is so unnaturally cheery, they drag you along with them.

I encourage Eden to sign her paperwork first. There’s only three places to sign. And I have to assume she’s signed a rental agreement before. But it takes her, like, half an hour because she reads every. Single. Word. Of the agreement. Twice she asks questions of Cheryl. I just stand off to the side and watch her.

Huh. I was kind of joking with Pierce about meeting a girl on the freeway, but…