“Says the guy who just drove across the country. How’s your back?”
“Needs you to whip it into shape. Let me shower while you wake up. You should probably get to know Eli a little bit. He just got home from work. The three of us can hang for a while before you run off to work again.”
“Who?”
“Eli,” Brady called over his shoulder toward his bedroom. “Come keep Vi company. When I get out of the shower, the three of us are doing something roommatey. I’m thinking either braid each other’s hair, or knock over a liquor store.”
My spine was stiff at mention of the person I’d written off as myth. Somehow he’d come into the apartment without my knowledge. I looked down at my lavender tank top and black yoga capris, wishing I was dressed in something… I dunno, something less like jammies.
When the bedroom door opened, my jaw dropped to the floor and, I swear, all time and movement around me in the universe ceased to exist. There he was – New Roommate in the flesh. The best-looking man I’d ever seen. Eli was taller than Brady. I came up to Brady’s Adam’s apple, but I doubt I could clear Eli’s clavicle. He was broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, and looked rugged and ripped, wearing old jeans, a black t-shirt and boots. His brown hair was military short on the sides, with about an inch and a half of tousle on top – which I decided on the spot was the perfect amount of tousle. He nodded once at me, making eye contact with a simple, “Hi.”
His eyes were green, and looked like they had stories hidden in them that I could only imagine the highs and lows of. His lips were full, and twitched at the corner, pulling up into a lopsided half-smile that made my weak knees grateful I was sitting down.
Intelligent vocabulary deserted me, leaving me bereft of all higher brain function. My mouth went dry, and I knew I was gawking like a horny teenager. He was too good looking, too big, and too… just too much for my introverted tendencies to handle gracefully. “Um, Violet,” I blurted after about ten seconds of complete silence. He hadn’t asked my name, but apparently, I needed him to know it.
“I’m Eli. Hope it’s okay I’m…” He seemed to struggle with finding the right words, but he could’ve uttered total gibberish, and I would’ve been hanging on every syllable. Just when I thought a man couldn’t get any more attractive, his accent tumbled out Irish. He gave up on whatever sentence he was about to say, and reverted to, “I’m Eli.”
That sealed it. Eli was the hottest guy I’d ever seen in real life. Most people would turn on the flirt when confronted with their own personal Irish Channing Tatum. Me? I turned into a stammering idiot at best, and Jerry Lewis at worst.
“I’m Violet,” I said again, like a dummy. I smacked my forehead, reminding myself that I wasn’t in junior high, and I was being incredibly rude. “I said that part already. Hey, sorry. I just woke up. Can I get you some water or something? What do you want to drink?” I stood, if for no other reason than to move away from him. It was like flying near the sun – I didn’t want to get too close.
Eli rubbed the nape of his neck. “I told Brady not to wake ye. Ye seemed to need the sleep this week.”
I paled, chagrinned I hadn’t put it together that just because I hadn’t seen New Guy, didn’t mean he hadn’t seen me. “Sorry about that. Sometimes I work late. I need to get a desk for my room, then I’ll be out of your short, chestnut hair.” My eyes widened at my romance novel language, taking in his confused, dimpled smile. I mean, dimples. My heart started racing, flustered that I couldn’t talk like a competent human being around him. I wanted to sound normal, but he was so handsome, it was scrambling my brains. My cheeks flamed red as I moved into the kitchen. I hoped he couldn’t tell I was thinking about his tight butt. I grimaced in shame that I couldn’t pull it together. “Tell me about yourself.” Good, Vi. That sounded normal, and not like you were staring at his toned pectorals through his t-shirt.
A closed expression came over his face, making him look like he was seconds away from telling me to screw off. I don’t know why that made me upset. I mean, I got thrown the occasional racial slur for being a “filthy immigrant” or a “wall-jumper” at work by a few of the less stable patients we treated, and it rolled off my shoulders. Yet here was this stranger, and the second his eyes darkened, I felt emotion rise in my chest. “Not much to tell,” he finally replied. “I came here from Ireland. Been in the States a few years. Move around a lot because of my job. Saw your ad, and needed a place.”
I poured him a glass of water and slid it across the counter, watching as his large hand swallowed the cup. He had tattoos winding up his swollen forearms – the curly designs luring me in like a fish on a hook. “You been in the area long?”
He shook his head, but didn’t offer more than that. I took my time drinking my glass of water, letting the seconds of silence pile up into whole minutes of growing awkwardness. Caty was the cheerleader blonde type who could fashion a conversation out of toothpicks and old shoes. Factor Eli’s level of hotness into the equation, and I was surprised I hadn’t shot him a “peace out” and ran to hide in my room like the coward I was. He had a faint jagged scar that ran from the center of his hairline and cut through his left eyebrow. I’d never had the urge to lick a scar before, but apparently, I’d said goodbye to my grownup train of thought the moment I laid eyes on him. Come on, Brady. Get out of the shower already. This is so awkward.
“I like Lucky Charms,” I blurted out, my volume uncontrollable. Then, caught like a deer in the headlights of her own stupidity, I tried to backtrack. “I mean, not all the time, but in a pinch, it’s a great cereal.”
Eli raised his scarred eyebrow at me, as if I was a strange bug sent from Heaven to amuse him. He tracked my hand gestures with hawk-like focus. He looked like he was deciding if he was going to squash the bumbling bug, or let her spin her own web of self-destruction. “Alright,” he replied slowly.
“Lucky Charms are great. I don’t have any in the house right now, but I could get some! Did you want Lucky Charms? Or like, Bailey’s? Or corned beef or something less… generic American?”
“Are ye trying to tell me ye aren’t Irish? Because I guessed as much.” He motioned to my brown skin and midnight-colored hair.
“I’m only Irish on St. Patty’s Day. The rest of the year, I’m Mexican.” Then my eyes widened in time with my mouth, so that I could stuff my foot further inside it. “I don’t drink! I mean, a beer, sure, but not much more than that. And I have terrible luck,” I added, not sure how any of this was relevant. It seemed like the thing to say, so I pushed forward, running headfirst off the cliff. “I’m only a mid-level Irish fangirl, not a ninja-level pureblood, like you.”
Eli’s eyebrows pushed together when Brady finally came out and saved the day. “Ye think the ninjas come from Ireland?”
“No! I mean, I’m sure leprechauns could be ninjas if they wanted. I just meant that I don’t know much about Ireland. I know the leprechaun stuff, but not the actual nonfiction stuff.”
Eli’s nose scrunched. “Do ye think I’m a leprechaun? Jays, I’m lost.”
I was afraid I might start drooling from the way he said “jeez”. “Probably not a leprechaun.”
“Probably?” His head jerked back in surprise, his nostrils flaring as he smirked at me in confusion. “So there’s a chance I might be a leprechaun?”
I shook my head quickly, looking like a girl caught with a dimebag and no good excuse. Eli was the sexiest man I’d ever seen, and he was standing right across the counter from me. Caty would’ve been chatting up a storm with a man she was attracted to. Me? I was torn between vomiting and bolting for the door. If I didn’t untangle myself from his gravitational stare, I’d probably end up doing both – vomiting all over him, and then running away to hide my shame.
Brady snorted as he joined us and grabbed a beer from the fridge for himself. He’d been witness to my babbling before, but never of this caliber. “How was work today, Vi?” he asked, saving the day. Leprechauns. I mean, honestly.
&nb
sp; I breathed a gust of relief. I knew how to answer that one without bringing up a children’s breakfast cereal. “Good. Frank’s doing much better. He’ll be able to cut down his sessions to twice a week soon.”
“You already teaching him how to box?” he teased, playfully jabbing my arm. His lean build shifted from foot-to-foot as he tried to play the part of Mike Tyson. “Violet’s a physical therapist. She works downtown at McCale’s Rehab Clinic, coaching vets.”
“Mostly vets,” I amended. “It’s a public facility. If we get a grant, though, then the company can really expand. Get better equipment, help more people. Fingers crossed. Keith’s working on it.” That was a lie. My boss, Keith, was supposed to be working on securing a grant for the clinic, but I knew he hadn’t turned in a single application so far. He was overwhelmed at the clinic, as I was.
“Aye. I know McCale’s. Tha’s not a great area.”
I shrugged, trying yet again to remember that I was a grown woman, and not an adolescent whose job it was to drool over hot guys. “I’ve never had any problems. They all know me there, so the nonsense-bringers usually leave me alone.”
Eli studied my squirrely movements as Brady handed me his beer. I liked the taste, but I couldn’t commit to a whole bottle, so Brady always offered me sips of his. Eli’s stare was intense with a cataloging kind of focus, and he didn’t bother covering it over, or darting his eyes away. It was clear he was a man who didn’t feel the need to apologize or explain himself. Attention like that made me confused and jumpy. I stood there, open to his scrutiny, fidgeting like a woodland creature in the crosshairs of the hunter’s rifle. He made me so nervous that when I handed Brady his beer back, and picked up my water, I accidentally tipped over the glass, spilling my beverage across the counter like a total spaz. “Oh! Doggone.” I whirled around and snatched the towel from the fridge’s door handle, wiping up the mess as my cheeks burned crimson. “Sorry. I’m not usually so clumsy. It’s the muscles and the lips.” I cringed, hoping my admission could be misconstrued into something a normal person might utter.
“S’just a little water.” He reached across the counter and righted the glass. His thumb brushed my wrist, scorching it.
My job was quite physical, so I touched people all day long. Nothing I’d ever experienced elicited the heat as Eli’s simple touch, so I jumped back from it, as if he’d bitten me.
“You alright, Vi?” Brady asked. There was a knowing tease to his tone that made me want to melt into the floor.
Most women would meet the hottest guy they’d ever seen, and by some twist of fortune had managed to get into their home, and they’d seduce up a sexy storm of epic proportions. I had all the grace of a giraffe in roller skates. “I’m bed, so I’m turning tired,” I almost shouted, making Eli jump. Brady laughed out loud, so I discreetly stomped on my bestie’s foot for being a jerk.
I nodded to Eli, making eye contact for the briefest of moments. I could see his study of my asinine behavior, but there was also a curiosity I could sense in him that confused me. Hot guys never looked at me as if they cared about the why behind the who. His bright emerald eyes made colored contacts pale in comparison with the real thing. They were framed by lashes too thick and long to be useful on a guy, but there they were, beckoning me to get closer as I prepared to bolt like a spooked bunny in the woods. “My day that’s early tomorrow. Today, actually. Bed,” I clarified, pointing to my room.
“Aye.”
When Eli raised his eyebrow at me, I worried that my totally unnecessary announcement that I was going to bed for the rest of the night could be misconstrued as an inappropriate invitation. “By myself! To bed by myself.” Then, before I could stop myself, I shouted in an awkward bray, “You’re pretty!” I clapped my palm to my mouth to stifle the stupidity a second too late.
Brady snorted his beer and started coughing between fits of giggles. “Ho, Vi. You poor thing.”
A confused smile broke out on Eli’s face, transforming his features into a light so beautiful, I couldn’t look away. “Thanks. You’re a pretty one, too.”
I knew if I stayed out here another moment, I would throw up all over the gorgeous man. “I’m… So… Nice to meet your...” With that, I ran away from the hot guy, who looked so confused by me that I couldn’t shut the door fast enough. I heard murmuring, followed by both men chuckling at the idiot I’d devolved into. My cheeks were pink as I rested my forehead on the door, praying all of that didn’t just happen.
2
Hot Guy Blurts
The living room and kitchen were empty the next morning, which was a thing of mercy. I wasn’t sure if the guys were home, so I showered and dressed in my blue scrubs, and then made quick work of breakfast. Eli worked well into the night, and usually slept in, so I was fairly certain I’d have the kitchen to myself. The two-bedroom haven had a spacious common area, with an open view from the kitchen to the living room, the two spaces separated only by the counter that had tall stools pushed against it. There was even a small dining table off to the side of the kitchen, giving us the illusion of being proper adults. Caty had painted the baseboards lavender through the whole place, adding a gentle “you belong here” to the cream-colored walls.
I played with my daring so I could make could use of the countertop, and sneak in a bit more prep work before my shift started. If only the facility was open 24/7, that’s where I’d be. I grabbed a yogurt from the fridge as quietly as possible, sliding stealthily onto the stool. My white socks kept my feet warm as my toes curled on the lower bar of the stool, making me feel like a kid who was too short for her legs to do anything but dangle when seated.
John Freedmeyer’s file was difficult. He was a new patient, brought in after a psych eval from our neighboring clinic. They treated the mind, and then handed off the ones to us who needed help treating their bodies. Mr. Freedmeyer had failed the psych portion so miserably, that they couldn’t do anything more for him. That how he’d landed with us – a.k.a. the end of the road. If we couldn’t get him on a solid plan at least physically in hopes of alleviating some of his mental burden, the state would be forced to take over, which would be a difficult path for him. It was an option no one wanted to pull the trigger on, least of all me. I frowned as I looked at his past physical therapy evaluations he’d tried throughout the years. Each had been only halfway completed before the PT gave up and transferred him to the next facility. I was determined we would be different.
“Whatcha doing?” Brady asked from across the living room. I hadn’t even heard him open his door.
I jumped. “I thought you’d be sleeping.”
“Hmm. That’s almost like ‘Good morning, Brady. It’s nice to see you,’ but not quite. I’m guessing you’re up working? Or would you be working? Or, for a change of pace, working?”
“Well, until that dowry comes in, I’ma just have to till the lands myself,” I said in my worst fake Southern accent. “Seriously, B. What do you care if I pick up a little overtime? I don’t give you grief when you take a three-week haul.”
He started fixing a bowl of oatmeal for himself. “A) Yes, you do give me grief when I take long hauls, and B) I care if you self-destruct. That’s how we work. I nag you, you nag me. Then we know someone’s worried if we live or die.”
My shoulders dropped in understanding until he banged his bowl to the counter too loudly for my liking. I ducked and looked over my shoulder. “Would you keep it down? I don’t want to wake Eli.” Just the mere mention of his name made my girly shyness flare up.
Brady sniggered, his finger to his lips to remind himself to be quiet. “Yes, ma’am. You were so squirrely last night.” A wicked grin spread across his features as he pressed all the buttons on the microwave, making as much noise as possible. “You think he’s please-ask-me-to-dance-and-bring-me-flowers cute. You did your Hot Guy Blurts. Haven’t seen that in years. Forgot how entertaining it is.”
“Ugh. I hate it when you and Caty call it that. Sounds like a bowel movement. Do you t
hink he noticed I was being a freak?”
“Of course not. You were totally cool. James Bond, in the flesh. He probably didn’t catch you talking about his lips, or that you called him a leprechaun. Priceless!” He clapped twice as his trim chest shook with mirth.
I lowered my head to the counter and swore. “Why did you do this to me? I come home to decompress, not walk on eggshells, afraid to move around in my own living room.”
“Why would you be afraid? Eli seems like a good guy.” Then realization dawned on him. “Oh, I see. You’re afraid you’ll get your Hot Guy Blurts again. I say go for it.”
“Go for what?”
“Ask him out.”
I gaped at Brady. “Are you out of your mind? There’s no cure for my mouth-spasms. I only get worse the longer I’m around a…” I couldn’t bring myself to say “hot guy,” lest Eli come out and hear all the stupidity in my arsenal. “This is your fault.”
“Caty thinks you should ask him out, too. We’ve been texting all morning about it.”
I bristled, offended that they were in cahoots, teaming up against me. “She’s never even met him.”
The bedroom door opened, and Eli shuffled out, his shoulders hunched and a grouchy frown on his face. I’d hoped he’d be less handsome fresh out of the bed, but the thicker five o’clock shadow and the grump lines between his caramel eyebrows only complicated my conundrum. My thighs squeezed together on impulse as I bit down on my lower lip.
“Morning,” he greeted us, his eyes half-closed.
Brady had a mischievous look about him that I didn’t trust, but I was too busy packing up my paperwork, so I could dart out of the kitchen. “Hey, man. You want to go skydiving with us next weekend? Vi, me and our former roommate, Caty, are going. What do you think?”
I panicked, begging Brady with my eyes not to intervene like this. “I’m sure he’s too beefy.” Then, catching myself too late, I stammered, “Busy! He’s too busy!” There was no smoothing over that one. I slowly died where I stood as Eli’s eyes opened all the way in surprise, while Brady snorted into his bowl.
Violet’s Bucket List Page 2