Apartment 2B (4 page)

“Boo!” he spits at me angrily, successfully scaring the hell out of me.

I jump about foot in the air and hightail it up the stairs faster than any other time
before. My pace doesn’t slow until I’m safely inside my apartment with the door locked
behind me. What kind of creep hides in dark stairwells waiting to scare women?

Immediately, I need air, just like every single time I come to my apartment. Tina
says that it is part of my obsessive compulsive disorder. No matter how many times
she’s tried to tell me to vary my routine with this, I can’t. I hurry to the window,
wrenching it open and taking deep gulps of air until my heart rate finally evens out.

Since I already ate an early supper with Leta, I head straight for the bathroom to
shower. This is also part of my ritual, but I don’t tell Tina about it. It is absolutely
necessary for me to take a cold-as-possible shower every day after work. Once I’ve
stripped out of my clothes, finally, I turn on the water and step inside.

The cold water cleanses me and I instantly relax as my screaming skin starts to chill.
Tina says that, even though I have scars, it is mostly in my mind. If feels real to
me though. After an entirely way-too-long shower and my toes are starting to feel
numb, I get out and dry off. Peeking at my reflection, I frown. The same blue eyes
stare back at me as they always do. Lately, they’ve seemed to sparkle a bit. My bags
under my eyes are nearly gone.

My eyes flick down to my shoulders and chest, which makes me shudder. The scars are
everywhere. Thin, pink lines crisscross my skin, and it makes me feel nauseated. These
scars are constant reminders of the hell I lived.

Now that I reside alone, I’m free to do things the way I want. One is walking around
naked. Not having the clothes touch my skin when I don’t have to is freeing. I’m my
most comfortable at night, at home—my home.

I walk to the refrigerator and pour some iced tea before heading to my bedroom to
dig into my newest romance novel. I’m just sitting down on the bed when the phone
rings, making me spill my tea all over the sheets and nearly jump out of my skin.

“Shit!” I curse. Cursing is a new, liberating thing for me. I still only do it by
myself. Grabbing the cordless phone, I answer it while I yank off the sheets before
the tea seeps too much into the mattress. “Hello?” I ask, completely annoyed and distracted.

“Sid? What’s going on? Are you okay?” Tina’s barraging me with questions.

“Uh, yeah. I just spilled tea all over my sheets and now I need to go wash them before
bedtime,” I huff.

“Don’t you have an extra set?”

“No.”

She must have heard the pout in my voice because she giggles on the other line. “Oh,
Sidney. What are we going to do with you? Put sheets on your list for our next Walmart
trip. How are things going today? I thought I might could come over later and check
on you.”

“Tina, things are fine. Leta is doing great, and I’m pretty sure Donna is pleased
with all of the deep cleaning I’ve done for her mom even though she’ll never admit
it. Aside from now having to get dressed and do laundry, today has been an okay day.
Oh! Some creeper scared me half to death in the stairwell. I
told
you the stairwell was eerie and not just my imagination.”

“What a weirdo. Does he live in the building?” she asks worriedly.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t met anyone besides Donna and Leta.”

“Okay, well, be careful, and I’ll come visit you in a couple of hours after dinner
with Joey.”

I was completely right about her relationship with Joey and had learned this not long
after we’d become friends.

“See you soon, Tina. Bring ice cream if you know what’s good for you.”

“Hell no! Your place is always freezing. I’ll bring hot cocoa,” she jokes, which in
turn makes me laugh with her.

“M&Ms then?”

“Fine, okay. I’ll bring you something sweet. Bye!” She hangs up and I grin. Even though
Tina helps me a lot with what goes on in my mind, she is actually a really good friend.
I feel like I would die without her. Definitely my crutch.

I pull on a sundress—sans bra and panties since I’ll just be depositing the sheets
in the washer and coming right back. After sliding into my flip-flops, I scoop up
the dirty sheets and head out the door. The hallway is extremely quiet, and I once
again feel the dread consume me at having to take the stairs all the way down to the
basement. I’ve considered buying lots of clothes just to avoid having to do laundry
so frequently. Usually I try to save the laundry for Saturday morning so I can at
least have daylight on my side.

I hear a noise to my right and dart my head to see where it came from only to see
the door close to the unit next to mine. So someone does live there. We must have
completely opposite schedules because I never have even seen my neighbor.

With lightning speed, I fly down the stairs and start a load of laundry. The basement
is spooky as well, but at least there is more light down there. Keeping my head down
and tuning out sounds, I run back up the stairs to the second floor. Once I fling
the door open and step into the hallway, I nearly squeal in delight from having not
run into anyone.

I’ve almost made it back to my door when I feel someone staring at me. Glancing over
toward my neighbor’s door, I see a man standing out front of it, arms crossed against
his muscular chest. At first, I am stunned. The man is absolutely beautiful. He has
to be just a few inches over six foot and the jeans he’s wearing perfectly fit his
build. The black T-shirt he’s sporting is stretched tight across his body, showing
off each ridge of each muscle. His light brown hair looks like he just ran his fingers
through it to make it look messy. His lips are pressed together firmly in an unhappy
line, which makes me look up at his eyes.

Those brown, melted-chocolate eyes are glaring at me. I shrink back under the intensity
of his stare. He takes a step toward me, arms still folded, and I quickly fumble my
way into the apartment.

Locking the door behind me, I shakily make my way to the window and open it so I can
breathe. Who was that guy, and why did he look like he was mad at me? The look on
his face reappears in my mind and my skin begins to itch. For some reason, it makes
me angry that he has the same affect Momma had with a look.

After I slam the window shut, I stalk into the bathroom to the shower and turn it
on. I wonder if that guy was the same one who spooked me on the stairwell earlier.
If so, I really want to give him a piece of my mind. I never will though.

After my second very long shower of the day, I dry off and opt to leave the dress
off until it is time to switch the sheets to the dryer. Once again, I settle on my
now sheet-less bed and open my novel. Not even two pages in, the wall shakes behind
me. I can hear music blaring now through the somewhat thin walls. The pictures I recently
hung on the wall are shaking, threatening to crash to the floor.

I am furious because I feel like that guy is doing it on purpose to piss me off for
some reason. After jumping from the bed, I bang angrily on the wall behind me. As
a response, the music volume increases, and this time, one of my frames does fall
and break. Tears burn my eyes as I try to figure out how to solve this problem. I
wish Tina were here to tell me what to say to him.

The music stops suddenly, and I sigh in relief before sitting back down on the bed.
I’m finally getting my heart rate back to normal and reading a steamy part when the
music starts blaring again. Are you kidding me?

I storm into the bathroom to put my dress back on. Not bothering with shoes, I slip
out into the hallway and bang on his door. The music is still pounding away, so I
knock louder. I’m so pissed right now that I can’t even think about socially interacting
with someone new, especially a hot someone. At this moment, all I can think about
is making him turn off the obnoxious noise.

Almost as suddenly as it began, the music is silenced, and I hear footsteps approach
the door from inside. My previous fury is quickly dissipating as my nervousness takes
over. The pounding in my heart is telling me to go back to my apartment, but the stubbornness
I’ve worked my whole life to keep at bay is winning. I hold my chin up as I wait for
him to open the door.

When the door flings open and slams against the inside wall, I jump back a step. This
man is once again glaring at me as if he’s challenging me. I try not to look at his
chest again by training my eyes on his and glaring right back at him. He steps out
of the threshold into the hallway just a couple of feet in front of me. I’m assaulted
by his intoxicating smell. A lovely scent of outdoors mixed with mint envelops me.
It smells refreshing, clean.

I start to say something, but my mind starts to reel when he takes another few steps
toward me. I find myself backing up until my back bumps the wall behind me. Against
my wishes, my nipples harden under the dress. As if my thoughts alert him to them,
his brown eyes tear from mine and lazily drag across my breasts. My heart thumps wildly
under his gaze. His eyes meet mine again as he closes the distance between us, now
only inches away from touching me. If I breathe too heavily, our chests may touch
one another.

“Boo.”

I jump at his word and know he’s the man from the stairwell earlier today. Tears fill
my eyes and I slide away from him, running back to my apartment and slamming the door
shut. What is wrong with that man? What is wrong with me? He affects and confuses
me. Never have I actually wanted someone to touch me. In that moment, I probably would
have let him. But clearly, he’s an arrogant bully who likes to intimidate and scare
women.

I pace the apartment until it’s time to check on the sheets downstairs. Thankfully
he never turns the music back on, so I don’t feel the need to yell at him. Quietly
pulling open the door, I peek into the hallway for any signs of him. Realizing that
the coast is clear, I step into the hallway and head toward the stairwell. As I near
it, my heart begins its usual race and I force away a panic attack. I’m still mentally
trying to pep myself up into going down the stairs when I feel him come behind me,
his scent the giveaway.

“I switched your sheets over for you,” he says smoothly, and I can feel his breath
on my neck.

I spin around to face him, once again shocked at his beauty. He’s frowning, but at
least it’s not a menacing glare anymore. As if he doesn’t expect a thank you, he turns
to go back to his apartment.

I moisten my lips again with my tongue. “Sidney,” I whisper as I observe his brown
eyes skate their way back to mine again.

The corners of his lips curve up into a breathtaking smile, and my mouth parts as
I take in the beauty of it. He leans in impossibly closer, and I swear he inhales
me. My body tenses up at his proximity, yet I make no moves to get away from him.

“I’m Liam,” he informs me softly.

I close my eyes after he says his name. Something about the way he whispers it drives
me slightly crazy. This is exactly the sort of thing they describe in my romance books,
but living it and reading it are two completely different things.

When he reaches up to touch my cheek, I’m suddenly ripped from my trance before he
gets the chance and am sent into a full-on panic mode.

“Don’t touch me!” I shriek in such a high voice that I shock myself. I’ve already
managed to scoot past him and take off in a sprint back to my apartment.

“Sidney, wait!” he calls after me, but I ignore him, slamming the door behind me.

I’m shaking badly and I need air. With jitters running through me, I somehow make
it to the window and open it without passing out. I take deep, filling breaths of
the air until I feel the unease begin to dissipate. My skin starts the insane itching,
which makes me cry. I hate this life, having to shower to get rid of the creepy-crawly
sensation.

On wobbly legs, I stumble into the bathroom and turn on the water. Tears stream down
my face as I tear off the dress and climb inside the shower. The icy-cold water snaps
me out of my stressful state, and I’m able to finally relax the tension that seized
my body only moments before in the hallway.

“I checked on your sheets before I came up here and they were all dry,” Tina chirps
as she walks inside. She’s got a sack in one arm and a handful of my linens in the
other. I take the sheets from her and head to the room with them. I mumble my thanks
on the way there. In the kitchen, I can hear her unloading some things into the refrigerator.

I’m just finishing making the bed when she comes into the room. Tonight, she looks
amazing, and I bet she didn’t even have to try. She’s wearing some adorable purple
leggings, tall black boots, and a long-sleeved black tunic. Her blond hair is piled
up on top of her head in a messy bun. The makeup has been scrubbed clean from her
face, making her look much younger.