by Selena Scott
Most men would probably leap at the opportunity to knock on Milla Keto’s door. But not Matt. Because every single time Matt had ever spoken to Milla, he’d wound up a stuttering, moronic bore who somehow always ended up speaking in Spanish instead of English. The number of times she’d blankly blinked at him, raising her eyebrows as if she pitied him… Well. Yeah. It was not something he was super eager to revisit.
But time was wasting and he was a grown man who could talk to a woman. It wasn’t rocket science. Actually, in reality he found rocket science considerably easier than carrying on a cogent conversation with Milla Keto.
He knocked on her door, resisting the urge to fidget with his clothes. She was just another human being, he reminded himself. Just another human being… who was wearing a kitten sweatshirt?
The door swung open and Matt blinked at Milla’s appearance. Never once in his life had he seen her looking so disheveled. Her blonde hair, which must have grown out considerably since he’d last seen her, was piled on top of her head in a messy knot. An oversized gray sweatshirt completely hid her remarkable curves. Matt’s eyes stuttered on the glowering kitten that looked like it had been ironed onto the front of the sweatshirt. And then there were the electric blue leggings that hid absolutely nothing, especially not her bare feet, which Matt had never seen before. Each toe was painted a different color. He couldn’t have said exactly why that fact made heat creep up from the collar of his shirt, but here they were.
Matt continued just to blink at Milla as he realized that that loud crunching sound was coming from her. She was chewing. Yes, that was a humongous bowl of Lucky Charms in her hands.
Having never seen her with anything more than calm reserve shaping her features, Matt actually considered the possibility that this was, in fact, not Milla Keto standing in front of him. It must have been another woman. But no. There was that face. Even though she looked a little more wide-eyed than usual and there wasn’t a speck of makeup to be found, there was no mistaking that face. Her long, oval-shaped face, the slashing cheekbones, lips so generous they made him clear his throat. She had a straight nose and two eyes green enough that he wouldn’t have been the first man to step closer for a better look.
“Ah,” he started. “Hi.”
“Hi!” She spoke right through the cereal in her mouth.
“Sorry to interrupt you.”
“You didn’t.”
He gave up and adjusted the collar of his shirt. “Ah, what?”
“You didn’t interrupt me,” she said, holding up her bowl of cereal and shooting him a smile that fried his brains. “I’m still eating.”
“Right.” Time to cut to the chase and get out while his brain was still in charge of the operation. “You wouldn’t happen to have two wine glasses I could borrow for the evening, would you?”
Milla shrugged. “I’ve never looked for that before. But come in and we’ll see.”
Mystified and more than a little off-kilter, he followed her into her house, his eyes growing wide at the refined elegance all around him. All whites and splashes of classy color. Her windows were scrupulously clean and there wasn’t a stitch out of place. Except for the large sectional couch which had a messy nest of blankets, a half-knitted something or other, and a cup of hot cocoa steaming away on a side table with no coaster.
Matt frowned. This was not quite how he would have expected Milla Keto to spend an evening. He thought of her as much more of a fancy schmancy martini drinker, maybe at a nightclub or a swanky new bar. But knitting needles don’t lie.
He followed her into the kitchen where she was already up on her knees on the counter to reach a pair of wineglasses.
“Here,” he muttered, stepping forward and reaching over her head. Though he considered himself more lanky than muscular, Matt knew he was an exceptionally tall man. Ladders held little more than philosophical meaning for him.
“Oh, thanks,” Milla said as he grabbed the stems of the wineglasses between two fingers of one hand. She reached out for him.
Matt automatically helped her down off the counter and then immediately jammed his hand into his pants pocket. He felt like he’d just dragged his fingers over a thorn bush. They… prickled.
“You must be thirsty,” she said, leaning back on the counter and picking up her cereal again.
“Sorry?” Why couldn’t he understand a single thing this woman was saying?
“You must be thirsty if you need two glasses at once.”
Matt searched her eyes, saw nothing but happiness there, and had absolutely no idea if she was joking or not. He fought the urge to start speaking Spanish.
“Ah, well. The other wine glass is for a… friend.”
“Ooooohhhh.” Milla nodded sagely. “Is she cute?”
Staring down at the messy little blonde before him, Matt couldn’t have conjured up Katie’s face in his mind if someone had offered him a thousand dollars to do it. He dropped his eyes away from her face, to be on the safer side, but ran smack into those multicolored toes of hers. He found himself nodding to answer her question. Because Katie was cute and words were starting to fail him.
He had to get out of there.
“Well, thank you. I’ll return them clean.”
“Okay.” She was following him to the door and Matt did his best not to run.
“Have a good night. And thank you.” He held up the wine glasses. “For your generosity.”
“Bye!” was all she said–with a bright little smile on her face–right before she slammed the door an inch from his nose.
***
By anyone’s standards, and definitely Matt’s, the date was not good. He was pretty sure that Katie had chalked up his lack of attention to his focus on his research. But the truth was, Matt’s mind couldn’t have been further from his work.
The entire date, from stem to stern, Matt puzzled over the unexpected mystery of his neighbor. He knew that people unwound a lot when they were in their own homes. But this was excessive. Never in a hundred years would he have expected her to answer the door in a cat sweatshirt. Or talk with her mouth full. Or forego a coaster. Was she on drugs? Had she joined a cult? Had she discovered she had a terminal illness and decided to live life in a more loosey-goosey way while she still had the time?
It was that last thought that had Matt frowning through most of his date with Katie. He knew that bad news like that often had people’s personalities changing. Was she sick? Did she need help? He couldn’t help but worry about her.
He knew that Katie was very surprised when their glass of wine at his apartment had ended up being just that. And Matt had to admit that on another night, he might have cozied up to her on the couch. But tonight, with thoughts and questions circling his head like vultures, Matt had been eager to get the show over with. He knew that the best way to do that was to get the heck out of his house.
So they’d had dinner. Which he’d paid for because he wasn’t an asshole. And then they’d had ice cream, which she’d suggested and he’d, again, paid for because he wasn’t an asshole. And then he’d hailed her a cab, kissed her cheek, and given the cab driver a twenty to cover the fare.
“Asshole,” Katie had muttered loud enough for him to hear.
Matt had stood on the curb, his hands in his pockets, and watched the cab pull away. Women were just one of the many things Matt had had to admit he’d never understand. He knew he hadn’t been terribly attentive to Katie. Actually, he couldn’t remember if he’d even really spoken or not on that date.
But he’d had other things on his mind! And he’d tried to be a gentleman despite his preoccupation. Speaking of his preoccupation…
Matt jogged the ten blocks back to his house and up the back set of stairs to his floor. He kept fit because so much of his research required physical stamina, and right now he was grateful for it. Because he was barely breaking a sweat as he quickly washed those two wine glasses.
It was 9:58. He figured that at 10:00 it became rude to knock on a neighb
or’s door. He had two minutes to return these glasses and get another glimpse of Milla Keto 2.0. If he didn’t, he knew he was in for a sleepless night.
It wasn’t until after he’d knocked and her doorknob was turning that Matt realized he had dish suds across the front of his shirt and had somehow gotten ink all over the fingers of his left hand. Perhaps when he’d signed the bill at dinner?
“Oh. Hi!” She tugged the door open and stood before him again, in the same outfit, but in place of a bowl of cereal was a small plate with a… baked potato? It was hard to tell under the explosion of toppings she’d piled on. “You’re back.”
“I just wanted to return…” He held up the wine glasses.
“Ohhhhh,” her eyes focused over his shoulder, at his apartment door which he’d left ajar. “You’re a neighbor. I wondered.”
Matt felt his pride deflate like a Macy’s Parade balloon met with the business end of the Empire State building. “Ah. Yes. That’s my apartment.” He wondered if he should remind her of all the other times they’d met, but he decided his ego couldn’t take it if she didn’t remember any of them. He pointed to his own chest. “Matt. Matthew.”
“Your name is Matt Matthew?”
“No,” he shook his head, almost laughed at himself. “My first name is Matthew. But you can call me that or Matt. My last name is Woods.”
Her eyes lit up. “That’s so nice! Woods in the middle of New York City. Do you think of the forest every time you say your last name?”
He thought he probably would from now on. “Not… usually.” He noted that she wasn’t grabbing for the wine glasses or hurrying him away. He wondered if, in this bizarro world where Milla Keto wore a kitten sweatshirt, this was her giving him an opening. He cast around for something to say. “So. Baked potato, huh?”
Matt valiantly resisted the urge to face palm. Good one. That was just brilliant.
“Yes,” she nodded solemnly. “This is a baked potato.”
Her eyes searched him and she seemed to be making up her mind about something. Slowly she leaned forward. Did she just…? Yeah. Matt was 90% sure she’d just sniffed him. Either way, it seemed to seal the deal. When she leaned back she’d made up her mind. “Do you want one?” She held up her plate. “I made two. The other one was also for me. But I can share.”
And that’s how Matt found himself on Milla Keto’s couch, balancing a plate on one knee and pretending to watch Star Wars while really just trying not to stare at the woman curled up on the other end of the couch.
He waited for a commercial to come on. “So, you seem a little different.”
It wasn’t subtle or smooth, but he hadn’t been able to come up with any other way to say it in the twenty minutes since he’d sat down on this couch.
“Than what?” She cocked her head and swiveled to face him.
“Than you used to be.”
“Really?” She looked shocked. “I’m pretty sure I’ve always been like this.”
“Right,” he replied, unconvinced. Something was up with his neighbor and bare minimum, he just wanted to make sure she didn’t need any help or anything. “So everything is alright at work?”
She turned to him, a quizzical expression on her face. “Things are good at work. A little busy. We just got this whole big shipment of new lingerie and everyone wants something new this close to Valentine’s Day.”
Matt blinked at her. He was lost, fully lost. “So you’re not at the tech company anymore?”
“Tech company? Oh. OH! You think I’m Milla!” And then this woman was laughing her ass off. She had her head thrown back against the couch and her hands clasped in front of her. When she looked up at Matt again, her cheeks were supremely pink and her hair was even messier than before.
If he weren’t so confused, he might have been supremely turned on by her warm, disheveled appearance.
She leaned forward, across the space between them, and held out one hand. “Sorry for the confusion. I’m Inka. Milla and I are twins.”
“Hmm.” He cocked his head to one side as understanding washed over him. “That makes a lot more sense. Now I understand the,” he pointed to her sweatshirt. “And the,” he pointed to the messy remnants of her baked potato.
She grinned at him, positively radiant. “Yeah, besides our looks we’re not very similar.”
“I knew that Milla Keto would never put a cup down without a coaster.”
“What? I—Crap!” Inka lunged toward the side table and jammed a New Yorker underneath her hot cocoa. “She’s gonna kill me if she finds out about that. Don’t tell her!”
“Cross my heart.” He shifted, angling himself toward her, just a touch. Now that he knew she wasn’t Milla Keto, he was both more and less comfortable at the same moment. “So, are you visiting?”
“I’m staying in her place for a little while.”
“Just to see the city?”
“Well, I’ve been borrowing her place for a few days each week recently. The weekdays.”
She didn’t elaborate so he didn’t ask for more.
“I thought maybe she’d moved since I haven’t seen her around for a while.” Not that he’d been looking.
“She’s been back home a lot more often. Working remotely. She and John Alec are kind of honeymooning again.”
“John Alec?”
“Her husband.”
Matt was surprised that he didn’t have any kind of an adverse reaction to hearing that Milla was married. She was gorgeous, sure, but he’d never thought he’d had any kind of real chance with her. He wracked his brain for a second. “John Alec, let me think. Tall guy? Really blunt? Sort of an… old school feel?”
“That’s the one!” Inka grinned.
“I’ve seen him in the hallway a few times.”
“Oh! This is my favorite part.” Her eyes were glued to the screen as Luke attempted a backflip with Yoda strapped to his back.
And with that, Matt reluctantly turned his attention back to the television screen.
CHAPTER TWO
“What do you know about your neighbor?” Inka asked Milla over the phone the next morning. Inka sat in the living room with her winter jacket zipped to the chin and every window open. She didn’t mind the city, but she was an outdoors kind of gal and she needed a little fresh air every now and then.
“The one with all the kids or the one who tries to get you to invest in that pyramid scheme she loves so much?”
“Um. The man one?”
“The man? I’m drawing a blank. Oh! You mean the scientist who lives with his mother?”
The thought delighted Inka. Their mother had passed away so long ago that the pain of the loss was more of an ache than a stab. But it was constant. She would have loved to still be living with her mother. “Maybe? He didn’t say what he did, or who he lived with.”
“I think his name is Marc something? Marc Woods?”
“Matt,” Inka corrected. “Matt Woods.”
“Right. What do I know about him? Well, I’ve heard that he’s a pretty renowned scientist. Or he used to be. But he started mixing molecular biology and metaphysics or something like that and he’s been blackballed from a lot of institutions. He seems like a really nice guy, though. A little bit of a weirdo. He kind of rambles. I’m never sure what he’s talking about. But nice enough.”
“I watched a movie with him last night. I think I’ll invite him over again.”
“Okay… Are you into him or something?”
“No,” Inka answered honestly. “He’s not my type. But he was good company and I’ve been getting a little lonely.”
There was a long pause and Inka knew exactly what Milla was going to say before she even said it. Call it a twin thing.
“If you’re lonely, then why don’t you come back home? We all miss you here, Inks.”
None of her siblings had understood Inka’s sudden need to move to the city. But it had been the only thing Inka had been able to think to do. And she wasn’t ready to explain it to
anybody yet.
“No, no. I’m having a good time for the most part. I got that job at the lingerie store I told you about. And of course I’ll still be coming home for the weekends.”
“Alright.” There was sadness and maybe just a touch of suspicion in Milla’s tone. Inka was the one person on earth who Milla was gentle with and she didn’t want to push her too hard right now. “But if you change your mind…”
“I won’t,” Inka answered immediately. She was proud of herself for covering even the tiniest hint of fear in her tone.
***
“Damn!” Matt slammed the soldering gun down and immediately sucked on the side of the thumb that he’d just burned the heck out of. He’d been scared out of his wits by a pounding sound.
There! There it was again. Who the hell would be pounding on his door at… Matt glanced at his watch. Oh. 8 pm already? He’d gone into his science world and lost track of time again. And his weekly Tuesday night Chinese food delivery was right on time. It was with the tiniest bit of chagrin that Matt pushed the ice dispenser on the fridge door and cupped a small handful of chipped ice against his thumb as he elbowed open the door.
“Right on time,” he said and then stopped cold as he saw who it was.
“For what?” Inka asked. This time she wore jeans and an old, green T-shirt two sizes two large. A faded baseball cap was pulled low on her forehead. She looked so pretty it made his teeth hurt.
“Hmm. Sorry. I thought you were my Chinese food delivery.”
“Oh!” she grinned. “Nope. You’re supposed to put that in a glass.” She nodded toward the quickly melting chipped ice.
Matt frowned down at his hands. It would have been awesome to have looked cool or suave upon answering the door. Instead he was just inexplicably holding a handful of ice that was melting all over his Converse. “Right. I was going to put it in a baggie. For my thumb.”