No Novelty

“Son of a…” The huge stuffed monkey blocked her view of the carpeted floor too effectively to make finding her keys easy, which was par for the course, considering the day she’d had at the hospital. She stepped away from her apartment door, hoping to clear her line of sight, but the side of her heel knocked against something hard and heavy, nearly making her stumble. “That’s it.” Unceremoniously, she dropped the gorilla to the floor, snarling in frustration when her watchband caught on the toy’s knitted sweater. She wrenched her arm free and glared at its jet bead eyes. “You are officially a menace.” Her keys rested innocently next to the gorilla’s lax paw, like it offered them as a token apology. Sydney snatched them up, but not before she got a good look at what exactly she’d almost tripped over. A package. She tilted her head sideways to read the label. Addressed to a certain Steven Teller. Just the sight of her neighbor’s name was enough to make her heart skip a couple beats. Though he had lived across the hall from her for nearly three years, all Sydney knew about him was that he was a writer, he worked a ton of hours because she rarely saw him, and he got more packages in the mail than anybody she had ever known. Oh, and he was gorgeous. Long, elegant features, dimples the size of Montana, and the prettiest blue eyes off the silver screen. Which made the fact that he seemed so solitary even more unusual. Curiosity won out over her bad mood, and she picked up the long box, turning it over in her hand to try and see where this one might have come from. Like all the other misdelivered boxes, there were no identifying marks, and the return label just had an address in Spokane. Someone in Spokane sure loved Steven. He got several boxes a month from there, and those were just the ones that got delivered to her door instead of his. There was no telling how many might have actually made it into his long, talented hands. Talented because of the writing, of course. Sydney didn’t think about how flexible his fingers were, unless she was safely ensconced in her bed with her favorite vibrator. And once in the nurses’ locker room at the hospital. She sighed as she straightened. It was truly a sad state of affairs when she was reduced to fantasies at the completely uninspiring sight of a brown box. Unlocking her door, she grabbed the gorilla by the ear and dragged him inside, abandoning him at the end of the couch to set the package down on the coffee table. She needed to get it over to Steven as soon as possible, but not before she had a chance to clean up. Her shift had been horrendous. The sooner she got off the pediatrics rotation, the happier she would be. Not because of the kids, of course, the kids were great, wonderful even. No, her nightmares came from the parents, and their never ending whining, and their stubborn refusal to believe anybody on staff was actually a professional and—horrors!—could do their job. Today’s winner had been the father who had shown up before breakfast was even served with the gorilla now hanging out in her living room. He’d scared his three-year-old so badly, the child had woken up every other child in the ward. He’d blamed it on Sydney, of course, because that was the way the world spun. And now she was stuck with another stuffed animal a sick child didn’t want or need. It would be time to hit the local elementary school again with a donation. Her apartment was starting to look like a toy factory exploded. She stripped out of her uniform in record time, then stood, frozen, in her bra and panties, staring into her closet. She had no idea what to wear. Something casual without being frumpy. Something that said, “Hi, I’m not desperate, but please notice me. But not my ass. Or my thighs. But really, I’m not trying to impress you. This is how fabulous I always look.” After five minutes of discounting half her wardrobe, Sydney retreated to the bathroom. Hair and teeth were easy. She’d do those first. A quick glance in the mirror made it obvious she needed at least a little bit of makeup, too, if she didn’t want to look like something to be wheeled down to the morgue, and ten minutes later, she was back in front of her closet, saying to hell with it and pulling on her favorite pair of jeans and a soft blue blouse that made her breasts look perky and her blonde hair brighter. She surveyed the results in the floor-length mirror on the back of her door. Not too bad for a forty-three-year-old divorcee with a college-age son. Sweet, funny, gorgeous Steven would never know what hit him. She just hoped he spoke more than a dozen words to her this time. The last time she’d had to take a package across the hall, he’d taken it, mumbled something about a deadline, and left her standing there. Sydney knocked twice on the door, waited thirty seconds, gnawed on her bottom lip, and knocked again. She supposed it was possible that he wasn’t home. Possible, but unlikely. Everybody on their floor always asked Steven to water their plants and feed their cats when they went on vacation because everybody knew Steven never went anywhere. But maybe he had developed some sort of social life while nobody was looking? Oh, God. Maybe he had a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend? Sydney was just about to let her thoughts spin off into a series of increasingly frantic scenarios when Steven opened the door. “Yes?” The smile she slapped on was completely natural, in spite of her wayward fantasies. It was impossible for her to look at Steven Teller and not smile, in fact. She held up the box. “Another delivery from our favorite dyslexic UPS man.” Well, he was her favorite, anyway. He gave her lots of reasons to visit her gorgeous neighbor. “Oh.” He offered a small smile and took the box from her. “You’d think UPS would be interested in hiring guys who could count.” “I’m not sure counting’s his biggest problem.” And thus endeth her reason to stand at his door. A polite neighbor would back away and return to the haven of her own apartment, duty done. After the day she’d had, Sydney decided she’d been polite enough to last her a lifetime. “Someone in Spokane must really love you,” she said, voicing the thought she’d had earlier. “What? Oh, the address.” Steven grimaced and tossed the box aside like he didn’t particularly care for the contents. “No, it’s for work.” She tilted her head, frowning as she processed his words. “Is your editor in Spokane?” “No, it’s where the distributor is located. For the products I review.” “Oh.” She hadn’t known about the reviews. She’d just known he was a writer and assumed he wrote books, even though she’d never been able to come up with anything he’d ever written on sss. But that had just meant he wrote under a pseudonym, trying to protect his privacy, but if he was writing reviews, then it was no wonder Google had been useless. “What kind of products?” “They’re…well…they’re adult products. For a website I manage.” Sydney blinked. The object of her lust-filled affection had not really just said…“Adult products? Like…sex stuff?” “Adult products like…marital aids. Yes.” A horrible thought filled her head, screaming in protest. “Please tell me it’s not Viagra.” The unfortunate side effect of thinking it so loudly? It came out loudly, too. Steven arched his brow. “Not that I think it’s any of your business, but no, it’s not Viagra.” Embarrassment flooded her cheeks with heat. “No, of course not,” she tried to backpedal. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I just, I’ve never known anyone who did that kind of thing. It’s…interesting.” Already, she heard the death knell to this particular attempt at getting his attention. Interesting? She might as well have called him “nice.” Guys hated that, which she had never understood, because there was absolutely nothing wrong with being nice. There was, however, something wrong with the way she kept standing there, like she expected anything positive to come from her foot-in-mouth disease. She smiled. “Well, I don’t want to keep you from whatever you were doing. If they’re sending you stuff, you probably have a new assignment, huh?” “Something like that. Thanks for bringing it over. I’ll call UPS and tell them to get this straightened out, so you won’t be bothered anymore.” Arguing that it wasn’t a problem would make her look desperate, even though the thought of having her only reliable reason to knock on Steven’s door ripped out of her hands made it even harder to keep on smiling. “Well, whatever you think is best.” She stepped away from the door, giving him room to close it. “Talk to you later.” She fled to her apartment before he responded, sagging against the inside of her door once it was safely shut behind her. s**t. That had been a total disaster. She’d called into question what he did for a living, and made herself look like a closed-minded i***t at the same time. Two blows to her chances for the price of one. That had to be a new record for her. Not that she took chances with guys she liked very often. From the end of the couch, the lopsided gorilla stared at her balefully. “Oh, shut up,” she said. “Like you would’ve done any better.” There were two ways to go with this. One, she could forget any future at all with the enigmatic Steven Teller, no potential dates, no potential kisses, no potential anything else. Packing up her pride and leaving the status in its current state of quo was not only smart, but also easy. She hardly saw him outside of their mail screw-ups anyway. Eliminating the rest of their contact would be a piece of cake. Two—and this was the one that refused to be ignored, making her very glad she didn’t own any boilable pets—she could suck it up, apologize for her rudeness, and offer something to make up for it. Like dinner. Her head snapped toward the kitchen. Yeah. Food. Steven had more food deliveries than he did packages. He might not get real, homemade meals very often. She could easily make something for him and take it over. It might even score her an invitation to stay. Option number two won. * * * * Steven cut through the tape and opened the box, revealing his latest product sample. At first glance, it didn’t look like anything interesting. In fact, it didn’t look like a s*x toy at all. It was just a vaguely oval lump of peach-colored plastic. He lifted it from the box and unwrapped the paper, slowly exposing the m**********n device. It was supposed to be in the shape of a famous porn actress’s ass, but Steven couldn’t imagine getting a b***r for it. He supposed he should test it before writing his review for his website, but he found the notion singularly unappealing. He dropped it back in its box without bothering to wrap it again. Various marital aids, lubricants, books, costumes, ropes, and harnesses littered his home, as well as the odd snakebite kit, and more light-hearted novelty items. Most people thought he was a weird writer, hiding away like a hermit in his small apartment, pounding out his next great novel. As a result, most people weren’t interested in him or his home. He never had to worry about anybody seeing the rather embarrassing items casually resting on his sofa, his kitchen table, his computer desk, and the floor. Most people weren’t interested, with one very notable exception. Sydney Mabry was obviously very interested in him. Unfortunately, his normally sharp brain always ground itself to a halt when he saw her. Words that should have been easy to find stalled in his mouth, and the only thing he cared about was making sure she didn’t see all of his various products and get the very wrong idea about him. The last thing he needed was for her, or anyone, to think he was some sort of pervert. He wasn’t a pervert. Just an entrepreneur. One that cared about quality. He refused to list any item on his website that he could not, or would not, vouch for. As a result, the Adult Bliss Store did not have an extensive selection, but it was known for quality. What had begun as a silly side product, partially borne from his experiences of writing reviews for other adult websites, was now becoming a very lucrative small business. One that he was increasingly proud of. Except for the fact that he didn’t want all his neighbors to know what he did in his spare time. And that was especially true for Sydney. When the second knock came at his door an hour later, he glanced at the clock and frowned. It was too late for another package, and nobody else ever bothered him. He made a mental checklist as he rose from his desk. No TV or stereo to garner a noise complaint. No calls had forewarned him about someone from maintenance stopping by. There was nobody it could really be. Except Sydney Mabry. She stood in the hall with a covered baking dish in her gloved hands and that beatific smile back on her face. The scent of basil and garlic wafted closer, and his stomach rumbled quietly as it answered its call. “I owe you a huge apology,” she said. “I overstepped earlier, and I feel absolutely terrible about it. So I thought, I’ll make it up to him.” She thrust the dish closer, moving onto the threshold. “Crab stuffed manicotti, with my homemade alfredo sauce. I mean, you’ve got to eat, right?” “I…well…thank you. That was very kind. But you didn’t have to go to so much trouble.” “Oh, it wasn’t that much trouble. I’d already planned on having it myself, so I just doubled the recipe.” She looked past him, her cheeks pinking. “I don’t suppose I could come in and set this down, could I? It’s really hot, and I still have to go grab the garlic bread.” Steven sent a worried glance over his shoulder. She was going to get the wrong impression, unless he sent her away. And then the only impression she would have of him was that he was a giant, ungrateful jerk. A giant, ungrateful, rude jerk. Which would be easier to live down? He looked back to her face, unable to ignore the hopeful light in her eyes. “Yes, please. Come in.” He stepped back, pushed the door open wider, and took a deep breath. She brushed past without hesitating, the delicate scent of a floral perfume mingling with that of the food. “I’ll put it in the kitchen.” Except she was already halfway there, and hadn’t looked like she had noticed the rest of his apartment at all. “It’ll be easier to dish up in there.” The second she disappeared, he grabbed a small box of dildos and shoved it on top of the nearby bookshelf. Now it just looked like a box. He didn’t have time to hide anything else before Sydney reappeared, but her quick pace took her directly past the incriminating dining room table and back to the door. “I’ll be right back with the garlic bread,” she said. Her fingers fluttered against his arm when she went by, like she was ensuring he was still there, but then she was gone, disappeared back into her own apartment across the hall, leaving him with precious seconds to try and get rid of more of the damning evidence. Steven moved quickly, gathering up every toy within reach, beginning with the ass-shaped masturbatory sleeve, and tossed them into his bedroom. Most of them landed on the floor, but he couldn’t be bothered to even kick them under the bed. He hurried back into the living room to gather the dildos, sticking up like strange, multi-colored plants all over the place. He had just enough time to chuck them into the closet—was it possible she hadn’t seen them at all—before she knocked on the door again. She didn’t wait for the invitation this time, breezing into his apartment with a natural grace that he’d always admired. “It’s kind of nice, being able to cook for two again.” Pausing in the doorway to the kitchen, she glanced back at him with obvious consternation. “I did not mean for that to sound as desperate as it came out. I just meant, you know, the recipes. If I don’t cut them down, I’m stuck with a lot of leftovers. And when I get home from work, my brain doesn’t always want to have to think about recipe conversions.” “Yeah, I can see why that would be annoying. I guess that’s why I tend to order a lot of pizzas.” He gestured at the now clear table. “You can sit. I’ll get some plates.” “You don’t want me to dish it up? I don’t mind.” “Oh, no. You don’t have to do that. I think that it’s only fair I dish it up, since you went through all the effort to cook it.” “Okay.” She didn’t actually sit as he approached the kitchen, holding back until he was within touching distance. Then, she rested her hand on his arm again, her fingers exceedingly warm from handling the hot pans. “Thanks for letting me do this.” Steven couldn’t help but stare at her fingers. She kept her nails trimmed and clean. Which made sense, considering she was a nurse. Her fingers were long, the back of her hand tan from hours spent in the sunshine. She must be interested in outdoor activities. “I think I should be thanking you here. First, you rescue all my wayward packages and bring them back to me. Now, you make me dinner.” “Somebody should.” She dropped her hand, and he immediately missed the contact. The impulse to grab her wrist and put her fingers back on his arm nearly choked him. “You seem like too nice a guy to spend so much time alone.” “I usually don’t mind spending time alone. I guess some would say I’m married to my work.” He stepped away from her with some regret. “I hope you don’t mind that all I have to drink is water.” “No, water’s good.” He lost sight of her as he went into the kitchen, but caught the sounds of her setting down the garlic bread and settling into a chair. “At least you get to work from home. Sometimes, I think I’d kill to never have to deal with a conscious person again.” “Oh? You don’t like being a nurse?” “Oh, no, I love it. I’m just stuck right now on a rotation that means dealing with a lot of parents who think they’re smarter than me. Which, maybe they might be, but not about how to take care of their kids.” “I didn’t realize you were a pediatric nurse,” Steven said, returning to the table with a glass of ice water in each hand. “That must be…very difficult and very rewarding, all at the same time.” Their fingers touched as she took the glass from him. “That pretty much sums it up in a nutshell.” “And you still have the energy when you come home to make a delicious meal for your neighbor?” “Trust me. This is absolutely the highlight of my day.” Steven took the lid off the casserole dish and inhaled deeply. He could already taste the garlic and the rich sauce against his tongue, and his stomach growled again. If he wasn’t trying to be a polite and considerate person, he would forego the plates and simply dig in. But he harnessed that impulse—especially since the cheese was still bubbling along the edges. “I think this might be the highlight of my month,” he said, passing her plate to her. Sydney took a piece of the garlic bread out of the bowl and tore a piece off. “It…doesn’t have to be such a treat,” she said carefully. “Nothing says we can’t do something like this again.” Steven lowered himself to his chair, too surprised by the offer to respond at first. Clearly, she hadn’t seen his small garden of dildos when she brought in the food. Or she had noticed them, and she didn’t mind? She was a nurse. She might have a broad outlook of the world. “No, there’s nothing saying we can’t do this again. But I wouldn’t want to impose on you.” “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.” She nibbled on a small piece of the bread before adding, “I’m just glad you actually let me in the door this time. If I’d known it took making an ass of myself and then tempting you with food, I would’ve done it a lot sooner.” Steven blinked. “You wanted to come in? Why?” The question seemed to confuse her. “Why wouldn’t I? We’re neighbors, and you’re a nice guy. I’ve wanted to get to know you better for months.” “Oh.” Steven took a small bite of the food and almost moaned from the flavor explosion in his mouth. He was perfectly happy to survive on delivery and frozen food, but he couldn’t pretend he preferred it to something homemade. “I wanted to get to know you better, too.” Her entire face brightened at his admission, dark blue eyes glowing with pleasure. He had always considered her one of the prettiest women he’d ever met, with her lush mouth and warm smile, but seeing her like this transformed her into something truly beautiful. “So now’s our chance. Feel free to ask me anything you want. Anything.” “Anything?” Steven tilted his head. “Do you really think I’m old enough to need Viagra?” “Oh, no.” She laughed. “That was just the first thing that popped into my head when you said marital aids, and considering how gorgeous you are, it just seemed a little out there that you’d ever need something like that.” Steven felt the back of his neck start to burn, but her laughter was so easy, and the smile on her face so genuine, he actually felt at ease. “No. I can assure you that I don’t need anything like that. Or any of the other things I’ve got around here, for that matter.” “Other things?” For the first time, she seemed to take notice of his apartment, her head swiveling as she cast her eyes around the room. “You mean like more…marital aids?” “Yeah.” Steven looked down, suddenly sorry he had mentioned them at all. “You’ve seen all the packages that get dropped off here.” “Well, yeah, but I didn’t realize that meant you kept them.” She gave up her search, but the gaze she turned back to him was bereft of any condemnation, still warm and appreciative, still beckoning him to relax. “Is it hard?” “Is…” Steven swallowed. “Is what hard?” “Writing.” Like that was the only possible response to be made. “The reviews, or just in general. It seems like it would be hard.” “They can be. I mean, there’s only so many different ways to describe…certain items. After awhile, I feel like I’m just repeating myself.” “How long have you been doing it?” “I’ve been running the website for a little over two years now. I wrote product reviews for six months before I set up my own store, though.” Steam had finally stopped emanating from her food. Sydney picked up her fork and sank it through the layers of pasta and cheese, loading it up. “So, what you’re saying is, the honeymoon’s over. You know what that means, don’t you?” Steven mimicked her, taking another big bite of the delicious meal. “No. What?” Her answer was a few moments coming, her lips wrapping around the tines to slide the food off with a soft moan of appreciation. Steven stopped in mid-chew to watch the tip of her tongue dart out and catch a loose strand of cheese, then the long, sensuous movements of her jaw up and down as she chewed. By the time she spoke again, he’d almost forgotten what he’d asked her. “When the honeymoon’s over, that’s when the real work begins. You do what you have to, to keep things fresh. In your case, well, maybe that means switching it up a little. Try new things. Or find new ways to try old ones.” Steven nodded. “I know exactly what you mean, but I’m not really sure how to do it. I mean, let’s be honest here. There’s only so many things you can do with marital aids.” The smile she shot him before ducking her head to focus on her food was positively sinful. “I’m sure a smart guy like you could figure out something.” “Maybe if I had a smart lady like you helping me.” Steven grimaced. “I mean, a smart lady like you helping me think.” Her chewing slowed, though her lashes remained lowered. Inwardly, he kicked himself. Flirting was one thing. Propositioning—even accidentally—was something else entirely. “Well…” She set down her fork and broke another piece off her bread. “Whatever you think I can offer, you’re welcome to it. It’d be my pleasure.” Steven swallowed, his throat suddenly scratchy. Sydney was so matter-of-fact, so straightforward, that he didn’t know exactly how to take it. He did, however, know that he couldn’t turn down her offer. If he did, he would be consumed by regret. “Maybe after we’re done eating, I can show you some of the products I’m working on?” The piece of bread skittered from her hands, and she snatched it up, cheeks pinking, though whether that was embarrassment or delight, he wasn’t sure. She set it back on the edge of her plate with a careful deliberation and nodded. “I’d like that.” From the sudden tightening in Steven’s pants, he knew that he would like it, too. Steven decided if things continued in that vein, he would have to give a very good tip to the UPS guy.