Giving me a nervous look, she says, “Run.” And then she takes off, still holding my hand, leading the way.
Together, we beat through the rain, our shoes soaking up every last drop, our laughter drowned out by the pounding of the sky above. Two blocks isn’t far, but when you’re trying to part the rain like it’s a curtain, it feels like forever. We finally reach a glass-front apartment building and stumble into the vestibule between doors while she searches for her apartment key. Water rolls off us in droves, soaking the entryway rugs and dripping puddles on the tiled floors beneath us.
Finally locating her key, she lets us in and leads me to the elevator.
“Look familiar?” she asks as we step inside.
“Not really. The intricacies of your apartment building aren’t really what I remember from that night.”
“And what do you specifically remember, Cooper?”
Your purple lingerie.
The way your head fell back when I kissed your neck.
The sounds of your moans when I entered you . . .
“The dust on your mantel.”
Her eyes widen, and she pushes at my shoulder. “There was no dust.”
I shrug and stick my hands in my soggy pockets. “We’ll just have to see about that.”
“What are you? The clean police?”
“No, but I do hold people to certain standards. You’re lucky I didn’t leave when I saw how much dust had accumulated on your mantel.”
“Stop it.” She shoves me again, but this time I grab her and pull her into my chest, where her hands land.
Her eyes smile up at me. “If you think you’re going over to my mantel when we get to my apartment, you’re completely and utterly wrong.”
The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. She releases herself from me and heads down the hallway to the right, where she stops at her apartment. I follow and wait for her to unlock her door. When she does, she turns toward me, face serious. “I didn’t invite you up here to have sex.”
“Okay.” I chuckle. “I wasn’t expecting to come up here and have sex.”
“What were you expecting?” she asks.
“Someone to keep me company. Someone to make me laugh. Someone to possibly offer me some food and a drink.”
“Demanding,” she says, opening her door and letting me in. “Clothes off—I’ll grab you a towel.”
“You said no sex, and yet you’re making me strip down?”
“I’m going to dry your clothes for you.” She flips on a light and takes off her jacket and shoes before heading down her hallway, where I hear her open a closet. I take in her quaint apartment. Nothing looks different; then again, I’m not entirely sure I remember what everything looked like when I came here the first time—I was a little too concerned with taking Nora’s bra off. A contrast to her bright-pink cake shop with yellow accents, her apartment is very subdued, monochromatic, with lots of plants lining the span of windows in the living room. “Here you go,” she says, walking into the room and tossing me a white towel.
“What do you expect me to do with this?”
She waves her finger at me. “Strip down, wear it around your waist, stay covered up while your clothes dry.”
“And what do you plan on wearing?”
“A turtleneck and extremely unattractive high-waisted sweatpants.” She smirks and then takes off, back down the hallway. “I’ll be quick, so unless you want me to see your manly bits, I would get undressed quickly.”
“They’re not bits,” I grumble.
When she disappears down the hall, I contemplate the towel for a second and realize there’s no way she’s going to let me sit in her apartment soaking wet. So, towel it is.
I strip out of my coat, pull my shirt over my head, and then take my shoes and socks off, followed by my pants. Glancing down the hallway, I check for her and then quickly take off my briefs before wrapping the towel around my waist and securing it tightly at the side. Bending down, I pick up my wet clothes and walk down the hallway. “Where’s your dryer?” I ask.
“Bathroom,” she calls out. “First door on the right.”
I open the door and stick my clothes in the dryer, grateful for her idea, even though it means I’m wearing a towel and just a towel. I turn on the dryer and turn around to find Nora standing behind me wearing a pair of light-pink silk pants and a matching silk sleeveless top.
I practically swallow my tongue, especially since it’s blatantly obvious that she’s not wearing a bra.