by Meka James
Numbers. Think of my numbers and not that, or him, in any sort of way. He was the loud music-playing, dog-hating jerk from next door. Not someone I should be cataloging images of as fuel for lonely nights with my vibrator. He bounced the ball once before tucking it against his side. “Go ahead and say it.”
I frowned. “Say what?”
“Whatever bitchy complaint I’m sure you have.”
Thank heavens for him letting the jerk free.
I walked to the trunk of my car to retrieve my bags. Bitchy...bitchy…no I would not let him get to me this time. After our last interaction, my neck and face were like a traffic light, which pissed me off. I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he flustered me.
“Why would you think I had any complaint, let alone a ‘bitchy’ one? You’re getting your ball to go back to your childish game.”
I grabbed my groceries, closed the lid, and turned to face him. A half-smile pulled at the corner of his lips. He ran his tongue across them and let out an airy laugh.
“Right.” He drew out the word which only served to annoy me more.
With a shake of his head, he walked off, bouncing the ball as he went. I would not acknowledge how nice those shorts looked clinging to his behind. Or the way his muscles moved in liquid motion as he dribbled his way back across the street. Adjusting the bags in my arms, I stood frozen, tracking his journey. He tossed the ball to the other guy. They exchanged a few words and when they both looked over at me I hurriedly turned and headed into the house.
Yoda jumped at my ankles when I entered. After setting the bags on the counter, I pulled a treat from the jar, picked him up, and fed it to him. “I do not find him attractive.” Yoda shifted, dropping back into cradle position so I could rub his belly. “He doesn’t appreciate your sophisticated and totally adorable appearance.” I brought him to my face and nuzzled him before placing him back onto the floor.
The comment about Yoda being yappy and rat looking prickled under my skin. Any man that talked about my baby that way—no matter how good he looked shirtless—was not worth my time. I could easily live next door to him and ignore him. I’d done well in the months prior until that blasted music made me crack. I’d simply have to double down on my efforts.
I smiled at the thought as I started to put away my groceries. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I saw the neighbor on the other side of me. I think she was an EMT or something based on the uniform. I’d thrown up an occasional wave when she appeared to be coming home as I was heading to work. The roommate I saw maybe a glimpse or two of when she would be outside with her dog. It wasn’t like I went out of my way to not interact with them, but life, schedules, things happened. Actively avoiding my annoying neighbor should be just as easy.
Yoda’s scratching at the glass got my attention. I headed over, pulled back my sheer curtains and the utilitarian vertical blinds, then cracked the sliding door open enough for him to run out. I made a mental note to check into getting some sort of tie-out contraption for him as to not disturb He-Who-Hates-Animals any longer. “Irresponsible pet owner,” I muttered to myself. The nerve of him. Yoda weighed five pounds, how much trouble could he really cause?
I glanced out the door to watch him sniff back and forth along the perimeter of my patio before I picked up my work laptop. Numbers. Facts. Accounting, dealing with invoices and payroll, that’s what I needed. Spreadsheets and organization were my Zen and I could focus on that instead of giving my mental energy to the sexy...no shit, not sexy. Not attractive. Damn him and his shirtless-ness and lack of compression shorts to keep certain things hidden and under control. The warmth I’d wanted to attribute to the heat outside once again spread through me and tried to settle between my legs.
I shook my head and hands to get the wonky thoughts and feelings out then lifted the lid of my computer. I blinked once, then twice as I stared at the blank blue screen. The white letters mocked me: Reset to factory default with a blinking Y and N. “No. No. No. No.”
I pressed the escape button repeatedly. This was not happening. Not the blue screen of death. It was fine yesterday. Everything was fine yesterday and now restore? Bet it was that stupid fucking update I couldn’t bypass. I pressed the power button to do a hard shut down. As I waited for it to reboot, I sent silent prayers to the computer gods that it would work. No such luck.
“Shit. Shit. And triple shit!”
4
Emilio
“Fuck, fuckity, fuck!”
I glanced over at the barrier between me and Ms. Potty Mouth then went back to flipping my burgers. Ren, however, seemed to have no concerns over his owner’s outburst. The tiny beast was too busy sniffing the air and looking at me like I was supposed to share.
More curses filtered out as I plated my burgers and turned off the gas on my grill. “Don’t get involved. Don’t get involved,” I mumbled to myself.
After a long drawn out “shit,” I sighed and headed into the house to set down the plate. “What the fuck, Ren, you don’t live here.” He’d trotted his tiny ass in behind me like he owned the place, ignoring the fact I tried to gently shoo him back outside with my foot. She seriously needed to leash him.
With the runaway animal in hand, I took a deep breath before walking back outside and around the divider fence. Her glass door was opened slightly, presumably so her wayward pet could come and go as he pleased. She paced her living room, phone to her ear. Her face was red and blotchy. The patchy coloring spread down her neck and across her chest. Whatever it was had majorly annoyed her. I chuckled quietly; at least it wasn’t me this time.
I probably shouldn’t have been checking her out, but maddening or not, she still garnered a second look or two. She’d changed since our encounter in her garage. Ma was a voluptuous woman, I couldn’t deny her that. Wide hips, and thick legs and curves for days. The shorts she wore accentuated all her best assets. Yeah, if she didn’t give off a strong f-off vibe, I’d be down for the hook-up. Though, not sure if getting caught up with the female that lived right next door was a wise move. Especially with one who acted like she could barely stand the sight of me. But if the opportunity ever presented itself…
I put Ren down and he scurried inside. Ma turned and her eyes widened when she saw me standing outside her door. She rolled her eyes, I threw up a hand ready to walk off when she headed toward me, putting her finger up indicating I should wait. For what, I had no damn idea, but wait I did. From the way she moved, I could tell she didn’t wear a bra beneath her purple T-shirt that had “I,” a red heart, and the Pi symbol underneath it.
Another “fuck” before she ended her call and launched the device across the room onto her couch. A wave of cool air hit me when she opened the sliding glass wider.
“Look, sorry he was on your side again. I was watching him until my computer decided to implode.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and puffed out her cheeks on an exaggerated exhale. She glanced back up at me. “Did he…”
“Nah, it’s all good, Ma. Ren wanted a burger but I’m not sharing, so I brought him home.”
I knew calling the dog by the wrong name would get a reaction and I probably shouldn’t have pushed her buttons seeing as how she was already annoyed, but really, it was too easy.
“Look, I’m really not in the mood for your crappy jokes about my dog.”
“So I heard.” Part of me should have wished her well and walked off. The other part, the part where my Abuela would have knocked me upside my head and told me to stop being a pendejo had me extending a fucking olive branch. “I can help.”
She jerked her head to the side and crossed her arms under her breasts which pushed them up. Frown firmly in place and her eyes were wider than I thought humanly possible. “You can help what?”
“You said your computer imploded. I can help.”
She moved her hands down to her hips and tilted her chin with damn near a sneer playing on her lips. “No doubt you spend countless hours battlefield of dutyi
ng or whatever, but I hardly think that would make you qualified to offer me ‘help’.”
I laughed quietly and shook my head. She set that fucking branch aflame then danced on the ashes. Fine. If that’s how she wanted to play it.
“You know what, Ma, you’re right. My bad. Here I was thinking it might be my degree in Computer Science and my IT/computer repair business of three years.”
The haughtiness dissipated and her face paled. I nodded in her direction then turned and walked around the divider. She had to be the most frustrating female I’d ever encountered and that’s saying a shit ton considering my sisters and their friends who made ball-busting a fucking Olympic sport. Whatever, I was not going to let her pissy attitude ruin my night. Burgers, beer and soccer.
No sooner than I had gotten settled than did a knock come at my patio door. Ma stood with her computer in hand and hopefully ready to eat crow. I muted the TV, set my plate down, and picked up my beer on my way over to the slider. For half a second I thought about simply pulling the blinds closed in her face, but I could be the bigger person. Maybe.
I opened the door wide enough to lean against the frame, but not enough that it could be seen as an invitation to enter. I took a slow pull from the bottle before addressing her. “Yes?”
“Lana.”
“Excuse me?”
“My name. It’s Lana so you can quit calling me Ma or whatever. Though with how you refuse to use Yoda’s…”
“Do you understand how an apology is supposed to work?” I asked, cutting her off. She seriously couldn’t help herself.
Lana’s face filled with color. She really needed to get that under control. She’d suck at poker.
“Yes, right. Sorry.” She looked down at her laptop, took a breath, then glanced back up at me. “I was rude. Unnecessarily rude, and for that I apologize.”
“Well, shit. That almost sounded sincere.”
She frowned. “It was. Is. You were being nice-ish, to offer help. And I shouldn’t have been flippant about that.”
“Nice-ish?” Again, pressing her buttons was too damn easy as evident in the huff and deepened frown on her face.
“What the hell do you want me to do? Get on my knees and worship you as the great computer god?” The widening of her eyes let me know she knew she’d promptly shoved her foot back into her mouth.
“Later,” I replied with a wink. I pushed the door open wider and extended my arm. “Welcome to Casa de Emilio.”
Lana hesitated before stepping over the threshold, cradling her laptop to her chest. Her now sadly bra-covered chest. At least she still wore the shorts.
5
Lana
Emilio closed the door and walked past me to resume his seat. I stood there, clutching my laptop and looking around. I couldn’t believe I’d actually come here. To he-who-annoys-me because I needed help. His help. Help he’d offered after I’d been rude to him.
He kept his eyes on the silent big screen mounted on the wall and ate his burger. A burger he’d said Yoda was begging for. His thick mass of dark curls hung free around his shoulders. In the times I’d seen him, he’d always had it up, but holy fuck with it down, panties probably melted on sight. I shifted my weight, desperate to ignore how my own were trying to spontaneously combust. Focus Lana. He’s not your type. You like practical. Analytical. Safe. Not chaos.
“So,” he started, “what’s wrong with it? You been watching porn and got yourself a virus?”
“What?” I squeaked “No. Who the hell does that?”
He took a drink and smiled. “More people than you’d think. Want one?” He tilted the bottle in my direction.
“No thank you.” I looked around again. I needed to focus on anything but the man giving off way too many inappropriate vibes. No watching him chew, or lick his lips to catch a drop of ketchup. Diversion. “Your place is surprisingly clean.” I inwardly cringed the moment the words slipped out.
He briefly glanced over at me but didn’t say anything. Numbers. Numbers I could do. People not so much. Evident in the fact that the happy hour after work invites only extended my way if I happened to overhear the plans being discussed. Too direct. No small talk. Standoff-ish. My lack of people skills garnered me pity invites out of obligation. But I wasn’t at work to make friends, so I didn’t let it bother me. Too much. Just like I wouldn’t let this man bother me. I didn’t need to be friends with him, but I could at least attempt to be pleasant all things considering.
Emilio finished his meal, took his plate to the kitchen, and returned, walking right up to me close enough I had to tilt my head to look at him. I licked my lips. My mouth went dry and all the naughty thoughts from earlier played on repeat in my head. Him. I could do him. Shit. What? No!
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just insult me, again, while still needing my help.”
“Sorry, it wasn’t meant as an insult. Really. It’s just most of the guys I’ve interacted with at work and personally aren’t always as tidy.”
“Fair enough. If you met my parents and grandmothers, you’d understand.”
His full lips pulled into a genuine smile, revealing a set of pearly whites, and his deep dimples. Those dark eyes of his sparkled and my attention was again drawn to the long lashes. Lucky bastard.
“So, Ma, I need to earn some on your knees, computer god worshipping action.” He held his hand out, and I relinquished my laptop while pointedly ignoring his comment.
Emilio opened the lid as he headed back to the sofa. This time I followed, choosing to sit on the end farthest away from him.
“What’d you do to it?” He spoke without looking in my direction as he typed in things that brought up commands.
“Nothing. It, um, worked fine yesterday but when I went to do some work a little bit ago I had that blue screen of death. But, oh, it had one of those system updates you can’t bypass.”
He nodded. “Have you backed up?”
“Backed what up?”
He turned his head toward me. His gaze traveled the length of my body then back up to my face. An action I should have found distasteful, but for some odd reason, I was flattered he blatantly checked me out.
“Your files.”
“Oh, um, my company has a server thing I think. Something that is supposed to handle all of that.”
“How often?”
“What do you mean?”
“How often does it do an auto back up? Hourly? Daily? Weekly? Different services handle it in various ways.”
“How the hell am I supposed to know?” I dropped my head forward and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Shit.”
He stood and picked up my computer. “It’s all good. I got you, Ma.” He started walking toward the stairs, and I scrambled behind him.
“Where are you going?”
“My office.”
At the top of the stairs, he took a right and walked into a room that made me pause. His office looked like some sort of command center I’d seen on spy shows. A mega console thing with dual monitors was placed against the wall to the right. To the left of it stood one of those tool organizers normally found in a garage. Flanking the other side was a storage rack that held various computers. On the wall by the door was a second smaller desk with a larger, curved monitor that looked more like a small TV and a computer tower that glowed like some sort of sci-fi, space-aged contraption. I’d been desperate when I came over here, and maybe shouldering a little guilt for being bitchy toward him, but, shit, he wasn’t playing around.
I took a seat on the edge of the gray futon in the corner, pressed my hands between my knees, and watched him go to work. He put his thick locks up into the man-bun he normally wore and slipped on a pair of glasses. I tilted my head. Why did glasses suddenly make him hotter? I shook off the thought. I needed to stop being distracted by his looks and pray to the universe he could fix my laptop.
A ton of questions sat on my tongue. I wanted to know what he was doing, if it would help and how long it would take. A
ny time I had to deal with company tech support, everything seemed to take days, if not weeks. Though I suspected they moved slower with me just to be assholes. Either way, I kept quiet.
“You love Pi,” he said, breaking the silence for me.
“Huh?”
He indicated toward my shirt. I pulled it away from my body and glanced down.
“Oh. Yeah. Math humor.” I added with a shrug.
Emilio swiveled in his chair and stared at me full-on, attention-stealing smile firmly in place, shook his head, and went back to work. Intense and focused. So not what I’d built up in my head as impulsive and chaos. Before I could go too far down that train of thought, he turned, took off his glasses, then linked his arms behind his head, and spread his legs wearing a large grin.
“You are free to start now.”
I frowned. “Start what?”
“Your worshipping,” he replied with a wink.
I rolled my eyes as I walked toward him. He pushed out of the way so I could see that he had, in fact, brought it back to life. With all my files intact. “Well, fuck me.”
“Okay. I mean I do believe in customer service and all.”
I turned just as he whipped his shirt over his head.
My heart rate spiked. “No. Wait. What?”
His hands were on the waistband of his shorts. A sly smile tugged the corner of his mouth upwards. He couldn’t be serious.
I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms. Keeping my hands safely tucked away would stop my desire to trace along the contours of his tattoo. “It’s just an expression. Do you go around having sex with all your clients?”
“Nah, you’d be the first.”
He ran his tongue along his tempting lips, and I was pretty sure the implication melted my panties. So much, in fact, I damn near checked to see if they were now a puddle around my feet.