Fat Cat Liar
He turns in my direction, and I clench my jaw tight to keep it from dropping. In the bright lights of the corridor, the ball cap no longer shades his face, and I get a full look at him. My hand grips the door handle, and my shoulder presses into the wood to remain standing.
His NYU t-shirt stretches tight, highlighting his muscular chest and shoulders. Dark hair pokes out from the hat with a strip falling lazily across his forehead. Light stubble covers his jawline and accents his full lips. His hazel eyes are framed by thick black lashes, and when those eyes lock with mine, I’m sucked into a trance.
He’s striking, easily the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life.
His velvety voice breaks through my haze. “I’m okay, think I may be over confident in my moving skills. It’s been a while.”
“It’s a bit late to move, isn’t it?”
“I’m trying to get a few items in before my actual movers get here in the morning. At least a bed.” He motions to the large item covered in plastic that I’d forgotten about.
“You’re the new tenant?” My question comes out breathy and low.
“Yeah, signed the papers on Tuesday.” He chuckles, his eyes sparkling brighter.
I think back to my emails and the messages from my co-op about new residents. Nothing comes to mind. However, since last week, I’ve been busy with work and Dad’s new project so it’s possible I missed something.
I notice a few boxes and suitcases lined in the hallway. Then I see he’s nudged the mattress too close to the frame. It will only take a few slight maneuvers to get it inside.
“Would you like some help?”
He looks me up and down as if I’m crazy for offering. “You think you can lift this monster?”
I catch the gleam in his eye and the playful grin. My heart skips a beat again at the sight of his perfect white teeth that sparkle against the dark scruff and tan skin.
“I may be little, but I’m resourceful. If you don’t want my help, good luck.” I back away from the doorframe and slowly push the door closed, hoping he’ll change his mind.
“Wait! I’m kidding. I’d love some help. I think it’s all about the angle.”
“Yep! That’s exactly what it is. Give me a second.” I leave the door cracked and rush to my kitchen to slide on my flip flops then return to the hallway. He’s moved the dolly to assess his door space.
I grab the dolly, reposition it, and instruct him what to do. “We’ll be going in low. It’ll be much easier to guide it.”
He nods in agreement, positions the enormous king-sized mattress, and we easily move it inside his bare apartment.
We drop the mattress directly in the middle of the bedroom, and there’s an awkward silence that follows. I’m at a loss for something to say, feeling a little odd about being in his bedroom and not even knowing his name.
Great idea, Greer. Help a comp
lete stranger without even introducing yourself.
“Is there anything else?” I prop the dolly on the wall.
“I think I can get the rest.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll go then.”
“Wait.” He comes to me with his hand extended. “I’m Lawson Hall.”
A sizzling sensation travels up my spine when his hand envelops mine. Being this close, I take in his height. He’s at least six inches taller than me, my eyes level with the center of his chest.
“I’m Greer. Welcome to the building.” I tilt my head to meet his smile while giving his palm a little squeeze.
His face twists into a grimace at the action, and his eyes drop to our joined hands. I follow his gaze and see a small gash with an angry purple bruise forming.
“Oh my gosh, you’re hurt.”
“I think the door jamb got me. May be a broken knuckle.”