#maintenanceman

Here, now he had an indefinite amount of time with her huddled up in his apartment. He would get to see her in the morning when she woke up and before she laid down at night. If he’s lucky, he’ll get to see her in between too. And he couldn’t wait. 

He didn’t expect her to come so willingly. Whenever she mentioned that she could ask the doctor if she could stay over at his place, there was no way that he was going to let that happen. Caleb would pay for a room before he would. Luckily, he didn’t have to worry about it since she’ll be in his apartment. 

In his quarters. 

Caleb kept a clean space. Everything was already perfectly neat as they walked into the living area. His unit was bigger than most since it was specifically intended for the long-time post of maintenance man. It was in a more secluded area on the bottom floor, away from all the other units. 

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Although Caleb’s arms were filled with her bags, he still lifted them easily, welcoming her into his space. 

She looked around, mouth gone slack. 

“I’ve never seen a man’s space so… clean.” She commented, trailing her finger over the dining table–not a spec of dust. 

And she thought Zayne’s house was clean. Of course it was clean, but he still had things like papers sprawled out on tables, and dirty coffee mugs not yet cleaned. But everything in Caleb’s apartment had a place, and that’s where it sat. Neat and organized. Not even a single pillow out of place. It made her think of all the dirty dishes in her sink during their first meeting, and she cringed. He must think my place is a pigstye compared to this, she thought. 

He chuckled, opening the first door down the hall on the right. “I run a tight ship,” he admitted. 

“You must hate coming to my place to see everything out of order then,” she commented, trailing him into the room. 

The guest bedroom was bigger than her own master bedroom. 

Caleb sat her bags down, then shrugged. “It looks good to me. Everything always seems neat, save for a pillow or blanket left out. But that’s no biggie.”

A grin crept onto her face. “So you have noticed,”

His expression mirrored hers. “Maybe a little,”

“Ugh! You’re gonna hate me by the time you’re done with my study,” she said, secretly hoping it would be the exact opposite.

“No, I won’t. If I have to, I don’t mind picking up after you. I know I’m pretty intense when it comes to cleaning up–I don’t expect you to be the same,” he reasoned, silently helping her unpack all of her belongings. 

She packed enough for a week’s stay, since that’s how long Caleb estimated the repairs would take. That was more of an overestimation, but it was purposeful. He wanted as much time as possible with her, so fixing the room will be on the last on his list of priorities. That is, unless she complains about wanting to go home. Then, he will try to understand and get it done as soon as possible. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

After finishing with helping her unpack, he left the room, telling her that he would be in the shower if she were to need anything. Shower. Her brain short-curcuited at the word. That meant nakedness. He would be naked not even fifty feet away, separated only by a wall. When her brain finally rebooted, she found herself unable to sit still. Left to her own devices, she chose to take the time to give herself a tour around his apartment. 

It wasn’t weird, right? She was the one in a new environment. One she would be in for the whole week. She has a right to get to know her surroundings. Except, she wasn’t doing that. If anything, she was snooping. She used the excuse to convince herself, but her true intentions were to get to know him. 

One’s home reflects a lot about them. 

He was clearly neat, precise, and maybe a little obsessive about it. That was clear from the moment she walked in the door. His windows were spotless–not a streak on them. The couch looked like stiff, unforgiving leather. Sitting down, she found that it actually wasn’t bad. One of the comfier leather couches she’s sat on. It looked brand new, but she could see one spot where it was more worn down.

“So he’s not a psycho who never sits on his couch, got it.” she whispered to herself. 

His coffee table had few items on it, as expected. He seemed like the type of person to not like useless clutter. As opposed to her who loved to collect knick-knacks and store them around the house. The only things on it was a book about a war she knew nothing about and a model airplane. Wait, model airplane? A clue about him. He liked planes, or was proud of putting together this particular one at least. 

Other than that, there wasn’t really much else to the living room besides a few lousy cushions and a television. Which led her to the kitchen. There were no dishes in the sink, so she assumed that he must order out a lot. The only visible thing on the counter was a bowl of apples, a coffee maker, and a can full of coffee grounds. 

It made her think of the first time she talked to him–he said that he would take coffee as his payment. He must really like it if that’s the case. The real question was–what did he have in his cabinets? She felt like that was the most revealing thing about a person. Did he keep snacks? If so, which ones did he choose? 

She opened the door to one of the cabinets, peaking inside. This one just had plain dinner plates and glass cups. So, she checked the next one, hitting the jackpot. It was full of various kinds of cereal, gummy snacks, chips, and even some candy. She giggled to herself–Caleb had the same diet as she did in elementary school. It looked like you handed a kid forty dollars to go and pick out whatever junk food they wanted, and this is what they chose. 

Suddenly, a warm heat enveloped her along with his honeyed voice. “Hungry?” he asked, slight amusement in his tone. 

She turned around with a smile still on her face, but upon taking him in, it dropped much like her (metaphorical) panties. There he was, hunched behind her not even a full foot away, clad only in a white towel and beads of leftover water. He was close enough that his hair, still wet, dripped onto her lip. 

“Oops,” he chuckled, bringing his hand to her jaw, tenderly brushing the water droplet off of her lips much too slow to be friendly. “Must’ve not dried my hair good enough.”

MC was unable to speak, to think with him so close. The last time they were close like this, she’d been drunk and ready to pounce on him, mostly due to the alcohol. This time, she was stone-cold sober and he still had the same effect on her. Was this a taunt? Did he want her to touch him like that again?

The answer to both of those questions was yes.

Caleb smiled smugly, knowing that he had an effect on her. It was clear in her dilated pupils and her slightly parted lips that she wanted him too, and it made him feel better knowing that it wasn’t just because of the wine that day. But, she wasn’t the only affected one. He was too. Her too-tight short skirt and v-neck sweater had been taunting him all day. Not to mention that he couldn’t forget about how she’d answered the door in that robe he loved. 

Blood rushed to his groin even after he’d just got off in the shower. Shit, shit, shit, he repeated in his mind, trying to think of anything other than her. A hard-on in only this towel would be glaringly obvious. The last thing he wanted was to freak her out. So, being the disciplined man he is, he straightened and backed away, but not without great effort. 

He inconspicuously placed his hands over his groin–one, to hide his semi-hard on, and two, to control his hands. Otherwise, he might’ve taken her right there on the counter. 

He swallowed thickly, picking up on the last thing he said. “If you are, I can make something for us.”

She blinked a few times, remembering herself. Trying to drum up a response, her brow furrowed. “Wait, you cook?”

He nodded, cheeks flushed. “Yeah, sometimes. I’m not a bad cook, I just really never have a reason to.” he reassured. 

But he would, for her. 

Maybe it wasn’t a pipe dream. Just an hour ago, she was fantasizing about just this–him fresh out of the shower, and a man willing to cook for her. Possibly, it wasn’t a fantasy she was living in right now. But damn was it close. 

“Yeah, I’m a bit drained after today. And…” she clutched her stomach, hunger pains suddenly taking over. She said, absentmindedly, “I don’t think I’ve eaten today.”

Caleb’s eyes widened, a look of worry descending his features. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve gotten you something while we were out.”

She shrugged, uncomfortably hollow. “I just… forgot, I guess.”

Caleb pursed his lips, giving her a disappointed look. If she couldn’t remember, then he would have to remind her. “Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re going to have a snack, and while you’re getting ready for bed, I’m gonna whip us up somethin’ to eat. Sound good?”

While MC generally didn’t enjoy being told what to do by a man, when Caleb did it, she found it difficult to protest. He didn’t do it in a mean or demanding way, but in a firm way that ensured she would do anything he told her to. And she loved it. It made her wonder if he would be the same in bed. 

She nodded, throat too tight to speak. 

“Good. Which snack do you want?” he walked over to the cabinet that she stood below, halfway caging her in. 

He started naming off the various things in the cabinet, attention steadfast on getting something into her growling stomach. But her attention wandered down his body from his chest, to his perfectly sculpted abs, and… oh god. Was that his cock? Better yet, was that hard or soft? If the latter, she feared for her safety. Even though she feared it, she had to fight the urge to not yank the towel down.

Caleb waited for an answer, but he found that she wasn’t paying attention to him, but little him. Her bottom lip was tucked between her teeth, brow furrowed, and cheeks aflame as she looked at it. 

Panicking, Caleb blurted, “I’m not hard, I promise.”

A choked sound clambered out of her throat as she realized she’d been caught. “Sorry–I didn’t mean to stare,” she giggled nervously, feeling awkward. “It’s just–wait, what?”

Caleb couldn’t keep the smile off of his face now. He chuckled, also flushing a bright shade of red. “I think you heard me.”

They stood like that for a long moment, staring at each other. She tried to fathom how, if given the chance, she was going to take him. He was desperately trying and failing to keep himself at bay. With her eyes staring into his, he took the opportunity to hide his now hard member against the counter. 

She cleared her throat suddenly, feeling parched. Breaking their stare, she said, “I’ll have cereal.” Then pointed to the box she wanted the most. 

Before she could get the box down, he’d already grabbed it, along with a bowl. He turned around, carefully avoiding turning toward her. Looking down, his towel stuck out, a painfully stiff member underneath. He got the milk and poured it, making sure he was hidden the entire time. Once he put the spoon in the bowl, he walked away, leaving her to eat the cereal. 

“I’ll be back in a minute, I’ve gotta change.” he said woodenly, trying his best to not turn around and ravish her. 

She responded, but he had no clue what she said as he quickly shut his bedroom door behind him, yanking off his towel. His pulsing cock sprang free of its restraints, bobbing up and down. He gripped its base, wanting to strangle it for acting so irrationally and almost getting him caught. Stalking back into the bathroom, he turned on the vent, hoping it would drown out the sound of the shower. 

Turning the knob all the way to the left, he hopped in and stood under the freezing water. Minutes ticked by, but his little guy didn’t seem like he wanted to go down at all. He tried to think of everything he could to get him to go down. Puppies–they’re so cute! He pictured one, and cuteness aggression seemed to override the overwhelming need for her. 

But then a new picture came up–MC holding a cute little puppy, smiling, giggling, playing with it. Her smile alone was enough to get him standing right back up. He felt like a teenager all over again, but worse. He couldn’t recall a time ever being like this–painfully hard at a simple touch, a look from a woman. No, he’d never felt this way about any woman. But he did for her. 

MC tried on various pajama sets, but nothing was working. What outfit was suitable enough for dinner and sleeping, but screamed “bang me on the counter,”? Although, the more important question she should be asking herself was if she was ready for that yet. It was no secret that she was still getting over Zayne. Plus, she still has to share a space with this man for a whole week. 

There were so many reasons not to, so why did she want to so badly? It wasn’t just because of his looks, she’d been out with plenty of attractive men and been able to resist temptation. So maybe she was attracted to more than just his body or his face and was scared to admit it to herself. 

She was attracted to Zayne certainly, but he never let her in far enough to really fall for him. He was closed off in that regard. Caleb was the complete opposite. She’d be willing to bet her next paycheck that he would open up to her if she wanted him to. 

She caught herself thinking–falling for Caleb would be as easy as breathing. 

Quickly, she erased the thought from her mind. She couldn’t be thinking such disastrous things. Having real feelings for someone was not something MC had ever experienced. Truthfully, the thing that bothered her the most about her breakup, if you could call it that, with Zayne was the rejection and the thought of what could’ve been. She felt something for Zayne, but it was more akin to great respect for him rather than love. 

It made her think of what Caleb had said the night she stupidly told him everything about her lovelife–that she was lovestruck. She hadn’t stopped to think of what the term implied. Lovestruck. Struck, like lightning, brief but powerful. It didn’t mean that she’d fallen for him in a short amount of time. Hell, she’s had years of friendship to do that. No, struck just like it dawned on her that this could be a suitable partner. 

So, pursuing it, she found that her and Zayne weren’t quite a match. And that was okay. Was she hurt? Yes, she was allowed to be hurt. Did it bruise her ego quite severely? Absolutely. But did any of that mean that she wasn’t good enough for him? Fuck no. It wasn’t his fault for making her feel that way–he’d never said explicitly why he didn’t want to commit to her. 

If she was honest, that’s what bothered her the most. 

She finally decided that she wasn’t going to try to impress him with some skimpy pajama set. She was going to be herself. No pressure, no expectations. Just real, raw her. So she chose what she would really wear to bed on a regular Monday night. Old, baggy sweatpants that she stole from a college hookup, glasses she never let anyone see, and a double XL hoodie. Don’t forget the frumpy grippy sock-slippers she insisted were the only thing that kept her feet warm during this time of year. 

With her hair pulled up, she looked positively dressed to not impress any man. Fighting down the nerves of being her vulnerable self, she stepped out of her new room to “casually,” pad into the living room. Purposefully, she didn’t look at Caleb as he slaved away on their meal in the open concept kitchen. At first, he was too focused on quickly making her something to eat to notice her presence. 

But when he heard the television suddenly flip on, his attention was drawn straight to her. He stilled. There she sat on the couch–not a stitch of makeup on, wisps of hair flying out of her updo, clothes swallowing her whole, and he was once again disproven. She really did get cuter every time he saw her. 

It should be impossible. 

But for her, it wasn’t. He didn’t know how she did it–continued to leave him speechless without a single word or even a look. She cuddled up on his couch under his knitted throw. It made his heart thump harder. This felt intimate. Way more intimate than the moment they’d had earlier. It felt like they were a real couple, both tired from a long day of work, but sought rest in each other’s presence and silence. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” what was meant to be a thought slipped from his mouth involuntarily as he admired her. 

Her head whipped toward him, startled by the sudden speech. She tossed him an unsure smile. 

“Yeah, I usually don’t wear them in front of people, but my head was hurting from my contacts.” she explained, looking uncomfortable. 

“Why not?” he couldn’t help but be curious. 

She gave another shy smile. “I don’t really like how they look on me,” she shrugged, unable to make eye contact with him. “They make my eyes look weird.”

He saw an opportunity, so he took it. “It’s a shame you think that ‘cause…” Was this crossing a line? Fuck it. “I think you look really pretty with them,” Her expression was stunned, but not disgusted or uncomfortable, so he trudged on. “But you’re always really pretty, so I shouldn’t be surprised.” 

The woman was too stunned to speak. 

Meanwhile, Caleb was too chickenshit to look at her after the declaration. He continued to plate their food quietly, hoping for some response. 

“Thank you,” she said after a long, drawn out silence. “I think I really needed to hear that.”

For a moment, he was quiet, smiling to himself. Then he picked up their plates, carrying them into the living room where she was stationed. He sat her plate in front of her.

Getting bolder, he said, “You know, if you need to hear it some more I can do that. I’m quite passionate about the topic.”

She giggled. “Is that right?”

He then looked her straight into her eyes. “Yeah, it is.” he said, completely honest and serious. 

She knew then that he wasn’t being funny or trying to make her feel better. He was very serious. He thought she was pretty. Really pretty, as he stated. Unable to shake the new knowledge, she couldn’t stop smiling. She smiled throughout their entire meal, chatting with him. Laughing with him–about life, work, her choice of show, a reality show that he made sure to tease her about, but got very invested in halfway through the episode.

It felt natural–like they were meant to do this. No awkward silences, comfortable ones that they could sit in between lulls in conversation. No pressure, no expectation. Perhaps the most important–no need to prove herself to him. She didn’t feel like she had to. He enjoyed the real, unfiltered her. 

They sat on the couch parallel to the television. They’d started out on opposite ends, but as they ate their meal and chatted, their distance seemed to shrink. Neither of them noticed being too enthralled in the drama of the episode. 

“So you’re telling me that Jason should’ve just–what? Pulled her off to the side and–” 

“No, no, no!” MC exclaimed, pausing the show. She readjusted so she was facing him on the couch. “There is a certain way to do these things, Caleb.”

“Please enlighten me,” he said, completely enamored with her enthusiasm. 

Just then, he noticed how close they were. Her knee was overlapping his thigh as she sat criss-crossed to his right. She clearly didn’t notice as she prepared to give her monologue about how to properly make a move on a person. The couple on the show were made to go out on a date, but MC believed that neither one of them were giving the correct social cues to let the other know they were interested. 

Both of them wanted each other as they stated in their confessionals, but neither were making the proper moves to do so. Caleb believed, of course, that the man was showing all the proper cues, but he didn’t go further because the woman seemed like she didn’t want to. 

“Okay, so they were sitting there–mind you, plenty of space on that sofa,” That made Caleb chuckle despite himself. “She turned toward him–the right social cue, but he just sat there with his hands in his lap like a nervous little virgin.”

She clearly couldn’t see the irony between the show and her current situation. 

Caleb retaliated, making a calculated move to near her face. “But you’re forgetting that before that she said she wasn’t interested in a hookup, so that probably made him think she doesn’t want him in that way.”

“No, see, this is why men don’t get laid. They don’t listen,” The comment made Caleb throw his head back, chuckling. “She meant that she doesn’t sleep around, not that she was opposed to the idea of getting it on with him!”

“Then what should he have done? To let her know he was interested without making it seem like he just wanted a hookup.” Caleb asked, genuinely curious as to how her mind works. 

“Something simple, but forward. Something clear.”

“Like…?” 

She pondered on that for a moment, looking at the awkward couple on the screen. “Like… caressing her cheek or pulling her chin up to meet his eyes.”

“And if you were her, what would you do in response to that?” Caleb asked, no hint of amusement in his tone. His usually light tone turned into something heavier.

“Probably… g-get on top of him.” she stuttered out honestly, laughing. 

Suddenly, a warm hand trailed along the side of her face, cupping it gently. Testing the waters. When she didn’t shrink away in fear, he took it a step further. Warm, rough finger pads gripped her chin softly, steadily urging her to face him. She did willingly, breath catching in her throat. For a long moment, neither of them moved. Both too afraid. 

“Am I giving the right social cues? Because you don’t seem to be moving,” Caleb came off as confident, but he couldn’t mask the insecurity in his choice of words. 

Her eyes flickered between his and his lips. Up, down, then up again. On one wobbly knee, she threw her other leg across his lap, straddling him. 

Breathless, he smiled. “Now what should he do? To show that he’s interested.”

It was clear that they were no longer talking about the couple on the show. 

Her heart hammered heavily against her chest so loud that he could probably hear it. “Touch her.”

His hands settled on her waist, pulling her down so that she was flush against him. She could feel all of him rub against her. She could tell that he was big even through the multiple layers of fabric holding him back. Her cunt salivated in response. Shameless, she rolled her hips against it, eliciting a barely contained moan. 

He couldn’t help but groan, throwing his head back. With his hands, he guided her hips to do it again. She moaned, louder this time and involuntarily, his hips bucked up, causing a high gasp to fall out of her mouth. She continued rolling her hips, basking in the feel of his hard cock and the sounds he was trying and failing to contain. 

Gasping for air, he asked, “What should be his next signal?” 

Mind in a daze, it took her a second to respond. On a breathy moan, she said, “Fuck her on the couch.” She changed the motion of her hips to go up and down, making her want clear. 

His laugh was breathy and fanned against her collarbone where he hovered. “Greedy girl, you don’t get my cock so soon.” He licked a solitary stripe across her collarbone before she could protest. 

While she was distracted, he stilled her hips, not allowing them to move. She whined, trying to roll them again, but she was trapped in his grip. 

“Not fair,” she whined. 

“Maybe not, but I have to consider my feelings in this as well,” he said, looking like it pained him to stop. Her eyes finally opened, still blissed out. “You know how I told you that I’m not the kind of person to have hookups?”

She nodded shallowly. 

“It’s because I can’t handle them. There’s somethin’ about connecting in that way with someone that… Well, I can’t just have it once. I’m not fuck-buddy material either. My feelings are strongly attached to my actions. Once I’m with someone in that way, I can’t just let it go. I have to let it play out,” he confessed. What he meant was–I can’t have you just once. “I’m telling you this because I want you to know what you’re getting into with me. I feel like I’ve made my feelings clear, but… I can’t tell what yours are.”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek at the confession, not knowing what to say back. 

“And you clearly don’t know either,” he smiled, already knowing some of her tics. 

She tried to cover it up. “No, it’s not that–”

He cut her off before she could fib. “It’s okay. I’m not going to stop likin’ you because you haven’t had the proper time to figure them out. I’m just putting myself out there, making my feelings clear. That way you’re not confused as to why I do certain things.”

She swallowed thickly. She’d never had a man be so straightforward before. It only made her want him more. But, she knew it wouldn’t be fair to her or him to do anything before she was ready–before she knew whether she wanted him in a relationship. She’d never been offered it so plainly before, or rather, never at all. 

Here, sat just below her was the hottest, kindest guy she’d ever met, offering himself to her. It felt wrong to deny him like this. But, technically, she didn’t have to. He was willing to wait for her to know her true feelings. Already, that was more than any other guy had ever given her. 

“Please say something,” he pleaded, trying his best to not sound as desperate as he was feeling. 

Despite being annoyed over how worked up she was, she smiled down at him. “Thank you,” Then, she planted a kiss on his brow.

The place where she kissed him blazed with heat. He smiled back at her, satisfied in knowing that he didn’t scare her away with his confession. All of a sudden, she got off of his lap and shuffled toward the hallway. 

“Hey, where are you going?” he asked, following her movements. 

Stopping, she tossed him a sly smile. “To take care of the mess you created.” 

At first his brows furrowed, not knowing what she was talking about. Upon feeling the cool wet spot on his lap, his eyes dragged down to see the puddle she’d left in her wake. She soaked him. His eyes climbed back to her as she smiled evilly at him. There, he could see the damp outline on her pants, larger than his. 

Seeing what exactly he’d done to her made him really regret not taking care of it for her. 

Her smile widened. “Have fun by yourself, I know I will!” she said, dashing into the hall, into her room. 

He hopped up off of the couch, but she’d already shut and locked the door before he could reach it. He knocked three times, more urgent than normal. 

“Ma’am?” he asked, desperation now fully evident in his voice. “Please, I can take care of it for you,”  

It was like music to her ears. 

On the other side of the door, MC giggled to herself. She made sure every one of her movements could be heard. From the rustling of her clothes being taken off to the motions of getting her vibrator out of her bag. 

“What’re you doing?” he asked from outside the door. 

“Taking care of business.” she answered simply, a smile evident in her voice. 

“Ma’am, please, I-I’m sure I can satisfy your needs much better,” Caleb begged. “Please open the door.”

She was silent for a few minutes, laying back on the bed. She hoped he’d be so needy that he knocked the door down. Instead, she was disappointed when she heard his footsteps walk away, and shut the door to his room. Little did she know that was part of his plan–he still stood right outside her door, listening carefully. 

The vibrator lay next to her, taunting her. Knowing that she wouldn’t need any lube, she clicked it on, and started circling her clit with the tip. Caleb’s eyes widened as he heard the unmistakable sound, cock throbbing in his sweats. Would it be wrong to… take it out? If she was playing with herself, he could too right?

Slowly, she pushed the vibrator in, imagining it was him. She knew he’d be bigger than this–she’d felt it right against her core. Replaying the scene in her mind, a wave of pleasure crashed over her, gushing out of her. Pumping the device in and out, obscene squelches could be heard throughout the apartment from how wet Caleb had made her. 

Outside the door, Caleb’s dick twitched in his palm, precum already spilling from his tip. Quiet, breathy moans floated out from underneath her door, making his palm pump faster up and down his slick shaft. He struggled to stay quiet himself as her moans progressively got louder, and the squelches got quicker. He cursed himself for not just giving in–what he would give to have her sounding like that underneath him right now. 

However, she couldn’t hear anything but the vibration in her core. She imagined him brutally pounding into her for not opening the door when he begged her to. Writhing, her tits bounced up and down as she moved on the toy, her bed creaking with her movements. Not able to hear it, she couldn’t care less as she chased her high on the pink vibrator. 

“I know you’re bigger than this stupid fucking toy,” she whispered, imagining it was him she was talking to. 

And, she actually was talking to him. 

His head fell back, imagining what he’d see if only he opened the door. What she would look like as he took the toy out and replaced it with himself. Would she scream for him? The answer was looking like a yes.

“I want your cock so bad,” she whined pathetically. 

Caleb’s cock twitched at the words. “You can have it, all of it,” he whispered back, but she couldn’t hear him, too lost in her pleasure. 

Her whimpers turned into cries, causing him to fuck his fist faster and harder. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum! C-Caleb!” she whisper-screamed. 

“Ma’am, I’m g-gonna,” he said, unable to finish before he painted the inside of his boxers in white. 

Curiosity got the best of him, so he chose to grab every paint sample sheet he could find. Now he was standing at her door, paint samples in hand. How much more obvious could he get? From the moment he heard her whispering to herself on the other end of their first phone call, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her. 

There was something so familiar about her. Her demeanor, her laugh, even her facial expressions. He couldn’t place it, but when he was around her, he felt at ease. She could make him laugh whether she meant to or not. Not to mention the ever-growing want and need to take care of her. It should’ve scared him, and it did, just not enough to keep him away from her. 

He thought it was obvious–his attraction towards her. No, it was something stronger than attraction. A pull. He knew she at least felt attraction toward him. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have tried to kiss him. He told himself that she only made a move to distract herself from the pain she was experiencing, but that still meant something. He’d hold onto that. 

So he knocked. Three taps. Not loud, but firm. 

There wasn’t an immediate answer. It made sense–she’s a woman who lives alone, so she’s not gonna alert anyone that she’s home without looking first. But, there wasn’t a response for several minutes. He knocked again, and nothing. Odd. He knew from the security cameras that she couldn’t have left–she just got home from her shift not even thirty minutes ago. 

Just as he’s pulling out his phone to call her, the sound of the door unlocking made him quickly stuff it back in his pocket. She opens the door, a smile already on her face. He almost swore. It seemed that she kept getting more beautiful every time he saw her. This time, her hair was wet, a clear sign that she just got out of the shower. 

She was in the same robe she’d been wearing the first time he saw her. Although, this time, it seemed to have an even stronger effect on him. Shameless, his eyes raked down her body, slowly traveling back up, drinking in the way she looked–memorizing it for later. He tried to speak, but his tongue felt too big for his mouth and all the blood in his body had rushed downward. 

Thank god for his toolbelt. 

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” she asked, wringing out her hair with a towel. 

She was oblivious to his blatant attraction. 

“Oh… uh,” he tore his eyes away long enough to scramble to his back pocket. He plucked them and held the stack out for her to take. “Got you these at the store today. Thought you might wanna pick out the color since I’m gonna be repaintin’ the whole thing.”

Her eyebrows climbed up her forehead looking at all the different paint samples. “Oh my… you must’ve gotten every one of them! There’s so many.” She took the stack and moved away from the door, a silent welcome into her apartment.   

As he walked in, he could smell her scent all throughout the apartment from her shower. Apple scented body wash or shampoo permeated the air–he made a note of it in his mind. It did nothing but make his ever-growing problem worse. 

“I’ve wanted to paint, but I didn’t know we were allowed to. I could’ve swore Carl said something about no painting when I moved in. But it’s good because I’m sick of this beige.” she said, flipping through the various samples. 

Caleb smiled to himself, having been right about the no neutral color hypothesis. But, it turned into a frown as he remembered that she was right about the no painting rule. Eh, he does the inspections, so Carl will never figure out about it, he reasoned.

“Heh, yeah, I don’t blame you. It’s a boring color.” Yet, his walls were the same. 

He took her silence to really look around her apartment since he hadn’t the time before. He’s always either been too distracted by her or his work to memorize all of it. In the middle of the room, covering most of the floor of the living space, was a dark, ornamental rug. Her couch looked worn-in, but lumpy and comfortable. It was brown with large cushions strewn across it. 

The windows were framed by dark, drapey curtains–one set thick and heavy, and one sheer and lacy. Her lighting came from two arched floor lamps and a glass one she’d hung in the corner–that most definitely went against code. He would never tell though. The over-head light never seemed to be turned on, he noticed.

“Hey, why do you never turn on your over-head?” 

She met his gaze suddenly, and furrowed her brow up to where he was pointing. Then she shrugged, and said, “Oh that? It went out months ago.”

A pang of heat lanced his chest. Half-annoyance, half-jealousy. Another time he could’ve seen her earlier, but didn’t. Another time when that guy could’ve stepped up to help her, but didn’t. The light wasn’t difficult to change, but he could see why she didn’t. It wasn’t as simple as screwing in a new light bulb. 

He cleared his throat, a signal of his disapproval. “Why haven’t you told me about it?” he asked, trying to sound casual and failing. 

She didn’t notice, still picking through the colors. “I just forgot about it.” Something in her expression told him that she didn’t, not really. 

He didn’t prod, but he sensed it had something to do with him. The doctor. Every time he was brought up in conversation, she’d get the same pained expression. But, this gave him an opportunity. One to show her just how he’d treat her if she was with him. 

“You know, since I’m gonna have to re-do the floors and trim and everything, do you wanna pick that out too?” Everything about this was against the rules set for him by his boss. He didn’t care. 

Her head snapped up. “Really?” She looked surprised, but thrilled by the idea. “Do you have samples for those too?”

“No, but I could take you to the store to pick ‘em out.” he offered, heart hammering in his chest.

Was he being too obvious? To him, this would be an opportunity to get to know her outside of the apartment complex. You’d be surprised how much you can tell about a person based on what flooring they pick. 

The hesitation was blatant on her face. Her eyes didn’t meet his as she thought about it, narrowing her gaze back on the paint samples. His heart sunk to his toes. Preparing himself for rejection, he stared out her window at the busy street below. 

“You know what? Yeah. As long as you don’t mind, that is,”

His head snapped back to her. “I don’t mind one bit.”

She smiled–broadly like she couldn’t suppress it. His answering smile mirrored hers. They stared at each other for a moment too long. He hadn’t realized how close they were standing. 

Just as he dared a step closer, she said, “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be ready!” 

With that, she took off down the hall, paint samples forgotten on the coffee table. She’d picked the spreads she liked the best, separating them from the others. All those dark, moody colors that mirrored her furniture, he mused. But one she’d torn off and kept separate from the rest. A deep, rich brown–black bean. 

– 

“Here she is!” Caleb presented his fifteen year-old, white pickup with two firm pats to the hood. “She’s not some fancy car, but she’s mine.”

Caleb was used to his buddies making fun of him for driving the single cab truck, but deep down it was his pride and joy. 

She smiled, admiring the truck. “No, I love it. I’d much prefer this over a fancy car.” Caleb expected a “just kidding!” to follow up the sentence, but it never came. “I’d kill to have any vehicle, really. As long as it got me from point A to B, I’d be satisfied.” 

His brow furrowed. “Wait–you don’t have one? Then how do you get to work?”

Caleb knew her schedule–how early she went in and he knew the trains nor buses don’t run that early in the morning. 

She shrugged, smiling. “I have two legs and I use them,” she looked like she wanted to say more, so he stayed silent to let her have the room to talk. “But when Zayne and I were still… together, I guess, he’d take me if we got off at the same time.”

But only if they got off at the same time, he deduced. Not when it was inconvenient for him to help her out. When she leaves for work, it’s still dark outside. That’s not a safe environment for a lady to be walking the streets alone. It made him nauseous to think about all the times she’s walked to and from the hospital alone. It wasn’t some short walk–at least thirty or forty-five minutes if he had to guess. 

If he had the privilege of working with her, he’d make sure she got to and from the hospital safely even if it was inconvenient for him. Now that he thought about it, it wasn’t such a bad idea.

He scoffed, leaning against his passenger door, saying sarcastically, “What a guy.”

“What? I thought it was… nice of him.” She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. 

If he had as much money as he was sure the surgeon had, he’d already bought her a car. 

“It’s… the bare minimum,” he said honestly. 

“How is–what do you mean?” she stuttered, getting flustered. 

“When he was giving you a ride,” he paused, cringing at the double meaning that probably had. “Was he taking you here or to his house?”

He already knew the answer. 

“Both,” she answered defensively. He arched an eyebrow at her. “Mostly his, but still.” 

Caleb chuckled, half scoffing. “Like I said… what a guy,” he clicked his tongue, turning around and opening the passenger door he’d been leaned up against. “Right this way, ma’am.”

Her eyes widened, bouncing from him to the open seat. She took slow steps, unsure. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, holding out his hand to help her up. 

Her eyes flicked to his hand, then the handlebar, and chose the latter. “Nothing… just not used to getting the door opened for me.”

He stared at her for a long moment, disbelieving, but he could see it in her eyes that she was telling the truth. The bar is in hell. He laughed to himself thinking about all the ways he was going to spoil her so she wouldn’t accept anyone else’s treatment but his, and shut the door with a thud. 

Caleb got into the driver’s seat, turning the ignition until the truck roared to life. His eyes wandered over to the passenger seat. Her hands were folded in her lap and she was looking straight ahead. He could tell by her pained expression that she was thinking about the doctor again. 

Feeling the need to get her mind off of it, he said, “Buckle up, buttercup!”

“What?” She asked, snapping out of her daze just like he wanted. 

“You heard me. No passenger of mine travels unsafely.”

She raised her brows, and he learned that meant she was about to protest. “This passenger is fine without one.”

He laughed. “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough,” he risked leaning toward her, propping himself on the middle seat with his arm. She didn’t back away. “You will not ride with me without a seat belt,” he reached past her and she stiffened. Grabbing the seat belt, he pulled it across her agonizingly slow, their gazes never leaving each other’s. He clicked it in place, then lightly placed his hand on her knee. She jerked at the sudden contact and he couldn’t help the smile that split his face. It was supposed to be a friendly, innocent gesture, but they both knew it was anything but. “Precious cargo always gets strapped in for the ride.”

Her lips parted slightly, and he was tempted to take them with his own. But Caleb had restraint and discipline. He wouldn’t do anything until he was one-hundred percent positive she wanted him too–and not just for a hookup or to get over the doctor. This was not a woman he could just have once. It would drive him insane for the rest of his life.

So he pulled back with a satisfied smirk on his face. If he hadn’t turned her on, then at least he’d gotten her flustered. He could see that plain as day. He could still feel her eyes on him, so he made sure he looked his best. Putting the truck in reverse, he braced his right arm against her seat to look through the rearview window, making sure he was flexing enough to have his veins and muscles out, but not enough to be noticeable. 

When she sharply inhaled and looked away, he knew that had flustered her even more. His smirk deepened, proud of his success. She was attracted to him, he knew that for sure, but if he was going to have her, it had to go deeper than that. She would have to care about him. What better way to do that than showing her that he cared too?   

After a few minutes of silence, he broke it. “You know, I was just thinkin’ about you walking to work every morning. Don’t you go in early? Like it's still dark early?”

She was puzzled for a minute, questioning how he knew that. Then she must’ve remembered their first meeting. It was five in the morning. Caleb remembered it because he’d just had his first cup of coffee when she called.

“Yeah, why?” 

“Well… I thought that maybe since we start around the same time that I could give you a ride to work. So you wouldn’t have to walk alone…” when it was still nighttime to all those waiting to find their prey. “It’s more dangerous in the city, especially for women.”

She smiled, looking somewhat uncomfortable, but not for the reasons Caleb was thinking. “I appreciate your offer, but I’ve made it this far. Over a year without any incidents. I think I’ll be fine.” 

His heart dropped to his stomach. 

Unable to keep the disappointment out of his tone, he said, “Fine. Suit yourself. But remember it’s getting colder and I know those walks get pretty chilly during this time of year. I have a fully functional heater and seat warmers in this truck.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “So what’s the catch?”

“What catch?”

“There has to be something you want in return. I’m not stupid, Caleb.” She scoffed, crossing her arms. 

Caleb brought the truck to a complete stop in the middle of rolling traffic.

“What?” He was completely offended and appalled. 

Who made her think that every nice gesture had a cost?

Cars were honking and swerving around him, but he didn’t care. 

She was wide-eyed staring at him. “You need to move!” she urged. 

He cleared his throat, biting his tongue. He let off of the break, and went on. His jaw feathered and the steering wheel creaked as he gripped it harder. 

“I know you don’t know me very well, ma’am, but I’m not the kind of man that would expect anything for doing somethin’ nice. You may have encountered other boys who have those expectations, but I’m not them,” he paused to give her a serious look. “You should never worry about returning any favors to me. I don’t expect anything in return. Ever.”

His stare was so intense that she had to turn away to keep herself contained. After all the things he just said, all the small gestures he’d done, she was ready to put her hair up and really return the favor to him. 

“Wouldn’t it be out of the way for you to leave work to take me, then come back?” she asked, trying to reason through every excuse he could have to back out and hurt her feelings.

“Not at all. I go to the hardware store around that time every morning. The hospital isn’t far from it, so it would be a small detour if anything.” 

MC tried to trudge up anything he could have for an excuse. “Well… can I depend on you to get me there on time? My boss is a stickler over time.” she asked, knowing full well that she was not in the slightest. 

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded confidently. Warmth spread in her gut at the name he so often called her. It should make her feel old and he most likely said it to all of his lady tenants, but it made her flutter every time. “But that one might have a slight problem.”

She expected it, but her stomach still dropped with disappointment. She sighed, saying, “Which would be?”

“If you haven’t had breakfast before your shift, I would have to insist that you eat something, which could make you late,” He broke his gaze at the road ahead to smile at her. Of course, he caught her startled expression. It made his smile even wider. 

“I don’t eat breakfast…” She would love to, but she couldn’t afford more than one meal a day. 

“Well, be prepared to start come Monday mornin’.” 

MC just stared at him, baffled and questioning if this man was real. 

When they pulled into the hardware store, he threw the truck in park and hopped out, locking the door behind him. Which left her locked inside. Before she could protest, he was already back at her door, unlocking and opening it for her with that shit-eating grin. It told her that he knew exactly what effect he had on her, and that was proof enough that he was, in fact, real. 

He, of course, got the shopping cart and followed behind her as she picked everything out. Flooring, trim, paint. Neither paid attention to how much money all of it was. Black bean was a premium paint offered only in stores. The trim was carved and painted by hand. The flooring was real hardwood, not the cheap linoleum he usually stuck down in everyone else’s apartments.

He didn’t care as long as she got what she wanted. Caleb could only imagine what she would pick out for their own house if they were to get one together. He could just picture them buying a fixer-upper and redoing all of it together. Together, meaning she picked out the materials and he did all of the work. She wouldn’t like it, so he’d give her a small task like taping all of the trim off. 

His imagination ran wild until he rang up everything and saw the total. Needless to say, with all these materials, his estimate was one-third of the actual price. He didn’t sweat it since he had plenty of money saved up. But her cheeks heated when she saw the total, thinking about how much it would’ve cost her if Caleb hadn’t lied for her. Then, she realized how much trouble he could get into if Carl were to figure it out. 

When he pulled out the card, she narrowed her eyes on the name: Caleb Xia–not Carl. Caleb. And she seriously doubted Carl would pay for a card with Caleb’s name on it. She then noted that it wasn’t a credit card, but a debit card. She’d never known of a business to give a card for materials that wasn’t a credit card. It just wouldn’t make sense. 

The realization hit her–he was paying for it himself. 

She went to stop him, but he’d already paid and she didn’t want to make a scene. So she went silent, questioning everything he’d been doing for her. There was no way he was just doing it out of the goodness of his heart–no one had ever done anything for her like that. If he didn’t want sex, then he must want something else, she reasoned. 

But what?

Throughout the entire ride back, she was silent, debating on this question. Even as they parked, she came up blank. So, she decided that she would analyze him. 

He insisted on carrying all the materials up by himself, only letting her carry the bag with the extra paint brushes. Meanwhile, he lugged up a paint can, a bucket full of trim pieces, then went back down to get all the boxes full of flooring. Still, MC hadn’t spoken a word since he paid at the store. She wasn’t mad, just shocked and confused. 

In her distraction, she hadn’t been paying attention when Caleb emerged from the study with a solemn look on his face. 

“I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news, ma’am.”

She palmed her forehead. “What is it now?”

“Well…” For the first time she saw his face turn a shade darker. The red tint on his cheeks was barely noticeable, but it was there. “I happened to forget the protocol for this situation. Since there’s mold in your apartment, for safety reasons, you’re supposed to vacate the unit until the problem is taken care of. And it just so happens that we don’t have another unit to put you in currently.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” she sighed, covering her face again. One bad news after another, it just kept coming to her like she was cursed. She stood, pacing the length of the room. “I can’t afford a hotel right now, and I don’t have any friends to stay with. I guess I could call him–” She thought out loud. 

“No, you don’t need to do that.” Caleb said quickly. 

“Oh, really? Then what’s my other option? ‘Cause it doesn’t look like I have any!” she said, throwing her hands up in the air. 

Not only was she upset about not being able to stay in the place she pays rent for each month, but she also felt lingering annoyance over the confusion about him. 

He stilled her pacing by grabbing her raised fists, and turning her to face him. Her breath caught as she looked him in the eyes. With one simple look, he was able to not only calm her down, but send her pulse skittering up at the same time. 

“I have an extra bedroom in my apartment complete with a king sized bed, television, and an empty closet. It’s yours if you want to take it,” he said, eyes bouncing all around her face, unsure of where to look to gauge her reaction. “It’ll just be for a few days ‘til I can get the carpet taken up and out and clean underneath it.”

Multiple things would affect her decision. For starters, she didn’t know Caleb all too well. She couldn’t see his motivation behind this. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t doing this to try to hurt her–he’s had plenty of opportunities to do so, but he’s been nothing but nice and respectful. Not given her a single red flag. 

Another major thing she had to consider was how she felt about him. It was safe to say that she found him more than attractive. According to her, he was one of the sexiest men she’d ever seen. Not only that, but he was helpful and a pure gentleman. Living even just for a few days with that? Forget him making a move on her. She didn’t know if she’d be able to keep her hands off of him. 

And if that did happen–what would be the repercussions? 

Well, she didn’t know or think about any of this because she said, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, absolutely. I don’t care one bit. Be my guest.” 

“Okay, yeah.” she said stupidly, thinking with what was between her legs instead of her mind. 

She just couldn’t stop thinking of him without a shirt on, doing daily pick-up around the house. Or even better, cooking, even if it seemed like a pipe dream for a man to cook for her. And him fresh out of the shower, a towel hanging low on his waist and hair still wet? She wasn’t going to make it through this. This is the worst thing she could have agreed to. 

“Great,” he patted her shoulders, lifting off of them. She suddenly realized what a bad idea this was without his hands on her. “Show me what you need and I’ll take it down there for you.”

Flustered, she stumbled over her words. “Y-Yeah! Just give me a few.”