Common Sense Doesn't Become Me (4 page)

I grabbed my overstuffed, oversized laundry
basket, a roll of quarters, and headed for the basement laundry
room in my apartment with its industrial sized washers and dryers,
three of them. I had a plan to get my delicates, my whites and my
darks done all at the same time.

The elevator was taking forever, and I did
not want to carry my laundry basket down in flip-flops. I did that
once and spilled laundry on the stairs in front of old man McCarty.
That was not a good idea. He about had a heart attack at the sight
of my bras and underwear spewed out in his doorway. I guess if I
had not made such a god-awful sound, he would not have come out of
his apartment to find all of it sprawled out in front of him like a
lingerie display.

I set my basket down and got my cell phone
out of my purse. I texted Marion that I was good now. Laundry day
and pedicure, and I was good to go. I did not mention the cake. I
would save that for a girl's night out moment, along with the news
about the naked neighbor, my singing in my apartment drunk, and the
slipping on spilled drink moment. I would be sure not to leave out
my mom's message because Marion always had a way of making me see
things in a less hurtful perspective. It helped to hear it from my
best friend any ways.

By the time I slipped my phone back in my
purse, the elevator dinged, and when it opened, I was not prepared
for who would be inside of it. There, staring down at his phone was
my neighbor. He looked up, just as I wanted to run back inside of
my apartment. He stepped out, said good morning, grabbed my laundry
basket and made a casual note that it must be laundry day.

I stood there feeling awkward and then while
he was holding the elevator door open for me to step inside, it
started to ding an alert. "Better hop on in before it breaks down
again." His smooth sexy voice matched his body, and I was in some
serious womanly trouble. I took a step inside and feigned a smile
that did not match how I felt. I felt some serious sexual vibes,
and my nerves were not up to the task this morning. Then he said
something that was so romantic I whirled around like a ballerina,
internally any ways. "Although, being stuck in a broken-down
elevator with someone like you would be alright."

Of course, the first thing I said to him, but
more out loud to myself, made absolutely no sense to him as I let
it come out all breathy and unbelievable. "You're eyes are blue.
Light blue with a hint of green, but you look Hispanic." Perhaps my
comment sounded prejudice, yet I was anything but. It was just
after sneaking a peak at him naked, I had envisioned him with dark
intense eyes; eyes that I wanted to roam my naked body. I had to
get these sultry thoughts out of my head as we were standing in a
very enclosed space.

An awkward smile crept across his face as the
door began to close behind us. He hit the button for the basement
as I just stared into his eyes. I could easily get lost in them.
Everything about him said Latin bad boy yet his eyes, they were so
soft and colorful, so innocent looking. Then he said something, and
I shook my head back and forth quickly to clear the daydream I was
in. I looked down at my laundry basket in his hand, perched on his
hip. He is strong. His muscles rippled from the sleeve of his tee
shirt. I cleared my throat as I looked back up into his eyes and
spoke as if a frog was in my throat. "Come again?"

"My mother. She's Brazilian heritage. My
father is part Hispanic, part Swedish. I guess you thought
otherwise." As he said it, a seductive smile spread across his
face, and I felt a nervous reaction coming forward.

I laughed and touched his arm that was
holding my basket. I felt his skin under my hand and a tingle in my
tummy. I was in big trouble. So I did what any sensible woman would
do at a time like this, I babbled all the way to the basement in
the slowest moving elevator ever invented.

"No. I mean. I didn't know what you were. Or
should I say who you are. Were. Whatever. I just caught a quick
peek of you undressing before you showered, and I guessed Hispanic.
I also guessed your eye color to be brown or black. Either one.
Either one is ok I guess. Although your eyes are spectacular in
color. They're not blue. They're not green or blue green. They are
like their own special color. Intriguing. Sexy. So any ways. I saw
you. Undressing that is. Oh God. That sounds terrible. Like I'm a
peeping-Tom. But I'm not." I let my hand touch his arm again. It
was irresistibly drawn to him or touching him at least. I felt I
was being pulled in like some magnetic force, uncontrollable force
that I was not in any shape to reckon with, so I let my hand linger
while I laughed with a giggle, and then I did what I did best while
he stared at me with the sexiest of smiles. I babbled on.

"So. No. See. The apartment across the alley.
Directly, across mine. That would be yours now. It has been empty
for a while, and then I noticed a light the other day. Then I got
busy getting ready for my family birthday party, and well; I don't
know if you saw anything unusual at my place last night but let's
just say the party did not go well."

The elevator door opened, and he motioned for
me to go first as he made a statement quite clearly and with a
sense of pride. "I have my mother's eyes."

I stepped out and headed down the hallway to
the old and dingy laundry room. However, it had three brand new
state of the art washers in it, so I was not one to complain. When
I stepped aside to turn and look at my new neighbor, I thought for
a second his eyes had been trained on my ass. That's a good sign. A
good one indeed.

Rein it in Amber. I mentally hollered at
myself. However, a bit of it might have muttered out of my mouth.
My sexy new neighbor looked at me with his head cocked sideways and
a soft 'what' exited his lips that were so kissable I wanted to
devour them right there.

"Oh. Nothing. I was thinking. Did I say
something?" I questioned as I watched him set my laundry basket on
the long folding table in the laundry room. I was mesmerized by his
muscles, his skin, which had this mocha latte color that I wanted
to drink every last drop of. His height was a few inches taller
than me, and his demeanor had a sexual flirtatiousness to it that
made me want to do something, anything flirtatious or sexual to let
him know I was interested.

"So it was your birthday yesterday?" He
turned and looked at me, but for a fleeting second, his eyes gazed
at me up and down. His gaze caused my internal furnace to kick up a
few notches. Then he looked away to something off to the side and
smiled while bringing his head down and looking back up to meet my
eyes with his head tilted. It was sexy as hell and over-the-top
flirtatious move, and I wanted to strip him down and get familiar
right next to my laundry basket. I did a mental head slap and
realized my hormones have been in overdrive lately.

I felt sexually caught off guard. My flirting
game was usually spot on. However, he did things to me that caused
me to feel so flustered and silly that I just stood there staring
at him.

"How old are you now?" He was asking me as I
gauged his age in his late twenties, possible thirty, but he had
excellent skin and a youthfulness to his looks. Then again, so did
I. I wondered, should I lie and say 'oh it's my twenty-fifth
birthday'? Before I could wager lying about my age against the
truth and what the advantages could be, his eyes mesmerized me with
a look, and he spoke up with a teasing flirtatious voice.

"Let me guess." He joked with me as his eyes
traveled across my body again. "Twenty-six?"

"Thirty." I practically blurted out. So much
for keeping him guessing or making him think I was younger.

"Thirty? I never would have guessed. You look
much younger." He smiled and took a step forward putting himself
right in my space. "Mason Montahue, by the way." He put his hand
out to offer a handshake, and I blurted out.

"My birthday, real birthday that is, isn't
until this Wednesday. It was just a family thing." Then I grabbed
his hand, shook it super-fast, and let go. I was officially all
twitterpated over a man whom I had seen naked, and now that he was
right in front of me, the sexual dial a meter had shot way past
overloaded. I had no dignity left to my game. I was smitten, and
flustered; I was not sure how all this might play out.

"Nice to meet you Amber Jones. I'm the new
superintendent for these buildings for the next six months. That
is, until I can prove to my father that I know what it takes to be
on the inside running things."

"Your father? Montahue Properties. The
Montahue Properties that has billboards all over the city and
manages, like, hundreds of properties. That Montahue?" I was in
awe.

"One in the same. My family has run this
business since before I was born. I got my degree and managed a few
buildings but my dad said as soon as I turn thirty, he would
consider me for a CEO position. I've got a year to go, but had to
take this position for six months. I guess he wanted me to show him
I am still good with my hands." He said good with hands like it was
a sexual connotation, or perhaps, I just took it that way.

Then it dawned on me. I had never said my
name. I wasn't thinking stalker or creep, but more like he already
knew the tenant's names. I turned my head sideways, looked away
from his sexually compelling eyes, then looked back, and spoke up
with a note of seriousness. "Mason? How did you know my name?"

He chuckled and then reached up and touched
my face, putting a loose strand of hair behind my ears as he looked
into my eyes. "You got called on last night. From your neighbors.
Apparently, your singing hit a high note and a few thought you were
getting killed. They called me, asking me to call the cops, but
since I already had a front-row view of what was really going on...
well, by the time I made it over to your apartment, you were
already passed out on your bed."

"My bed. Naked? Or was I still dressed?" My
eyes were so wide and with a full on straight stare as if that
would make a difference to his answer.

"Naked." He said it so casually. Then what he
did next sent me into a permanent tailspin of chaos. He pulled my
head up to his with his fingers under my chin. I watched his lips
open slightly as he lowered his head down to mine, I watched his
eyes soften, and then he kissed me. No tongue or pervert kiss
either, just a soft sensual kiss that sent me into overload. When
he pulled back and stood before me, a few solid muscular inches
taller than me, his presence in the decent size laundry room just
took up the entire room.

"Happy Birthday Amber." His voice held a
sultry sound to it as his eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree.
"I hope you get your wish." Then he walked right past me and out of
the room leaving me there in my own cyclonic tailspin.

Chapter Four

My fingers could not have
texted Marion any faster. I got in a few minor details before I
forgot I still needed to apologize for my outlandish drunk birthday
behavior. So my fifth text simply read,
'By the way. I am so
sorry. Your suckie BFF.'
I knew she would forgive me. I was
known for these short outbursts of crazy. She had a few of her own
over the years. We always forgave each other, and that was why we
would forever be best friends.

I wasn't sure if I had even congratulated her
on her mention of being pregnant last night after my drunken stupor
was in a full-blown episode, so I sent a sixth text. It simply
read,
'CONGRATS!'

I was dancing around the basement laundry
room, texting Marion, knowing that she had mentioned that she had a
massage and hair appointment this morning, and as soon as she had
her phone in her petite little hand, she would be laughing at all
the texts I was sending her.

I decided texting Bethany was my next must
do. She did not usually text back while at work, but I was sure she
would be smiling while reading everything I needed to text her. I
knew she would need the laugh after last night's adventure.

It was as if texting both my sister and best
friend helped me burn through the excess energy I felt after that
sweet gentle kiss Mason left me with.

Somehow, between all the texting, I got all
three washers full with my laundry started. Then I floated out of
there and back up to my place to grab my purse. My mani-pedi
appointment was for in half hour, giving me just enough time to
swing by the bakery and perhaps that cute new lingerie shop that
had just opened up next to the nail salon.

Three hours later, my fingers and toes looked
sparkly. I chose a pink glitter polish. I picked out two matching
bra and panty sets, one in deep red and one in a navy blue from the
new lingerie shop. Both very sexy and both with the utmost
intention of showing Mason while on me then letting him take the
lingerie off me. My small cake, chocolate with raspberry filling,
white cream cheese frosting, was on order for me to swing by
tomorrow after work to pick up. Maybe Mason would want to join me
in a little private celebration. My mind was reeling from the kiss
and doing an internal fantasy of what if and who he is. Montahue
Properties is a big deal. He would be a great catch if I do say so
myself. My mother might actually be proud of me on this one, well,
there is always a first for everything.

I turned the street corner to the front of my
building, walking from where I had to park off street behind, to
see Marion leaning against her Silver Audi A6 with a huge smile on
her face. "I haven't seen you so happy in, I don't know how long.
Tell me. Is that smile from just a kiss or did you already fully
recover from Steve?"

I ran up and gave her a huge hug while
smashing my lingerie bag. When I pulled back, she grabbed the bag
and peeked in. "I'm going to say that you are fully recovered from
Steve and making plans for the hottie in your building. Your texts
were strange. He's the super?"