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He might be incredibly attractive and well built, but he
was a total jerk. I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. He
seemed exactly like the kind of guy who didn’t care about
anyone but himself.
    The laughter filled the
hallway and I clenched my jaw as I approached his door. This was my
home and I wasn’t going to let some scruffy, unwashed, possible
drunk hold my sleep and schedule hostage. Fist curled, I pounded on
the door.
    The laughter
immediately stopped and I heard the scuffle of feet. Was that a
woman’s voice I heard? Oh no. Did he have a date over? Had I
interrupted that ? Embarrassment rising in my throat, I was
about to turn around and race back down the stairs to my apartment,
when the door opened and I found myself confronted with a half naked
Jake.
    Where was his shirt? I
thought, staring at his perfect chest, on full display. All those
tattoos I had wanted to check out? Well, now was the chance. The
biggest was an anatomically correct heart right over where his own
would be. On one of the valves was a name: Lucy. His girlfriend? He
seemed to take up the entire doorway, his shoulders so wide and his
hips so narrow that he looked a bit like an upside down Dorito. Yum.
    No. Not yum, I told
myself and forced myself to look up into his face, which was a little
flushed. I could smell the whisky on his breath and his eyes were a
little hooded, whether it was from the booze or exhaustion, I
couldn’t tell. He was still ridiculously handsome.
    My lecture on his
hypocrisy and the rudeness of his behavior died in my throat.
    “Hi,” was
what I ended up saying.
    “Hi,” he
said back, his eyes scanning me. I pulled my silk robe closer,
realizing that it was way too short to be worn out of my apartment.
    “Oh my god,”
a female voice said behind him, and he moved aside to let a young
woman about my age step into the doorway. She was curvy and petite,
her dark hair in a thick, messy braid across her shoulder. She was
wearing an apron that was covered in flour and chocolate, her
striking blue eyes giving me an apologetic look. “Did we wake
you? I’m so sorry!”
    Was this Lucy, the name
tattooed on and over his heart? She was very pretty, and I felt even
more self-conscious with my tangled hair and sleep-crusted eyes. Of
course a guy like Jake had a girlfriend that looked like this. I was
just thankful I hadn’t interrupted them doing something more
intimate than what appeared to be baking. At three in the morning.
Who the hell was this guy?
    “Jake,” she
scolded my neighbor, who was still just standing there, slightly
leaning against the door. He took a sip from the glass he was
holding. Yep, whisky. “I am so sorry,” Lucy said again.
“We both had a long day and were unwinding and sometimes we
don’t realize how loud we’re being.” She looked up
at her boyfriend. “Right, Jake?”
    But Jake was looking at
me, in a way that seemed really inappropriate considering his
girlfriend was standing right there. But from what I knew about
him—the rudeness, the drinking, even his lack of appreciation
for classical music—he didn’t seem like the kind of
person who cared much about how he came across.
    He took another drink
from his glass, this time finishing off the amber liquid completely.
    “Sorry if we woke
you,” he finally said. His eyes hadn’t left my face and I
felt warm, as if I was the one who had been drinking.
    “Would you like
some brownies?” Lucy asked, seeming completely oblivious to her
boyfriend’s wandering gaze.
    I finally pulled my own
gaze away from his. “Brownies?” These two were very
strange. “You’re making brownies at three a.m.?”
    “Best time for
them, in my opinion,” Lucy said with a wink. “Here! You
can be our judge.”
    “Judge?” I
repeated, sounding a bit like a robot.
    “You’ll be
perfect,” Lucy said putting her hands on my shoulders and
leading me into the apartment, where two trays of brownies were
cooling on the counter. Next to them was a