Those Emerald Eyes

Chapter 3 - Veronica's P.O.V.

Stepping out of the pearl-colored SUV, I squinted and shielded my green eyes with my hand over my brow. The warmth of the early spring sun enveloped me like a gentle blanket, protecting me from the cooler temperatures that would otherwise seep into my bones.

Wiping the sweat from my brow, my eyes roamed my now clean house as I took pride in the completed work. The kitchen, bathroom, and windows were scrubbed clean. Once my belongings arrived, I would mop and vacuum.

I tugged at a garbage bag and stuffed the used paper products inside. I peered over my shoulder at the microwave clock, about thirty minutes until the moving van showed up with my meager belongings from Mel’s place.

The urge to have a celebratory dance party rose inside me. Still, instead of risking additional humiliation by being caught singing again, I swiped the keys from the island in the kitchen to venture out and roam the hallways. I yanked the sleeves of my shirt to their proper place and held my breath while I inspected the peephole, seeking the Adonis who mocked me not two hours prior.

The air in my lungs whooshed out when I found the dimly lit hall empty. I grabbed the handle, stepped out, and locked up. I decided to take the stairs, as I had avoided any structured exercise. I floated down the three levels of stairs and popped out on the first floor.

Turning the corner, I spotted the front doors and the mailbox.

“s**t,” I grumbled. I palmed the key to the elusive tiny locker, but I couldn’t remember the damn number. I doubted they put my name on it yet, either. Or was I supposed to do that?

As I got closer to the alcove, two people conversed by the doors in hushed tones, oblivious to my approach. It struck me as intimate until I examined the body language. The woman facing me leaned in with an open stance and a smile on her eyes.

Blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders in her animated exchange, breasts screaming to explode from the too-small blue peasant-style blouse. She paired this with tight black skinny jeans. The whole outfit appeared painted on or as if she had been poured into it. My lungs constricted at the thought of such compression.

The man, however, crossed his arms over his chest and only nodded in answer to everything she babbled on about. My mouth watered at his sculpted build. Another fine specimen. Wait a minute! A foreboding apprehension snuck up on me. Oh f**k. It’s the nosy Adonis. f*****g perfect. So, investigate the mailbox area. f*****g check. Face palm. This was a dumb plan.

His muscular back, stretching his shirt, faced me. His posture signaled annoyance and boredom. He rubbed his neck, flinching, ready to swat her hand away like a nuisance fly, when she reached out to stroke his arm. I am just going to turn around and sneak out of here. Too late.

The blonde woman detected me first, then he followed her gaze, turning his head before his eyes landed on me with a delighted sparkle in his brilliant hazel eyes. I smiled, self-assured he didn’t have a clue that he had applauded my song stylings earlier.

However, unless he is an i***t, it won’t take him long to learn my identity, but I hope not right now. Not while we are face-to-face.

His lips twisted up on one side in acknowledgment of my silent greeting, but his stare made me shudder while it bore straight to my soul. Then his gaze ran the length of my entire form, with no pretense of what he was doing. My calm demeanor fizzled at his way-too-intrigued response, but not one of recognition. Whew!

The average-sized woman, who appeared dwarfed by his height, shifted her eyes from him to me as I approached. A scowl painted across her face and aimed at me, she tapped her foot on the ground at the man in front of her. Meet the neighbors. Mother f*****g check!

His heated gaze scorched my flesh, and color rose in my cheeks. Before averting my eyes to act unbothered, his lips drew up further at the corner in victory at my reddened face. I struggled to maintain my composure while reviewing the numbers in front of me, begging that the scribbled information on the missing scrap of paper return to the forefront of my mind. Nothing. My mind goes blank in its flustered state.

I bit my bottom lip, trying to push the thoughts of his piercing golden brown eyes, reminiscent of flames when struck with the right light, out of my mind. His firm body was undeniably attractive. Up close, the way his shirt strained across his muscular chest, just like it fought against his back. He couldn’t find a shirt that fit? He wasn’t a bodybuilder, but he had the physique of an athlete.

Swoon...no Ronnie. I dumped Blake a little over three months ago. I don’t need a date or s*x, that’s why I bought toys. I bit and bruised my lip, but my brain drifted toward a dirtier direction. His lips looked incredibly soft, and I wondered what they would feel like against mine or what they would feel like ---.

What the f**k? You will not fantasize a guy who sports arrogant smirks like he knows his s**t doesn’t stink, who is mid who knows what with a girl he must have already slept with based on her possessive behavior. s**t, she could be his girlfriend for all I know.

Breaking me from my depraved inner dialogue, the ignored woman next to him cleared her throat, attempting to regain the minuscule amount of attention he pretended to give her.

Please tell me he hasn’t been watching me this whole time while my brain plunged into a world of sinful fantasies. I shook it off and went to review it one more time. I patted down my pockets to see if, by chance, I had stuffed the scrap of paper with the number in my jeans. No such luck. I sighed, but my feet were glued to the floor, not wanting to draw more attention to myself by leaving empty-handed.

“So, do you think you’d wanna come to that party I was talking about? It’s just a barbecue with games and drinks,” she drawled in an attempt at sexiness. Silence met her question. Snapping fingers rang in my ears before she spoke again.

“Colton, are you listening to me?” she whined.

“Not as a general rule, Leah,” cutting into her with his indifference.

“It’s Lacy,” she pouted.

Clamping my lips together, I fought back the laughter at the agonizing discourse unfolding behind me. I only listened in as I did not face them. For the second time, he didn’t reply. I can feel him staring at me...what the hell!?

A feminine scoff echoed in the alcove, followed by receding, yet stomping footfalls. I hoped to elicit an appearance of intense concentration to prove my noninterest in their exchange. Sliding my fingers on each golden door, I searched for the mysterious exit to this awkward position I found myself in.

My eyes squeezed tight in defeat; I hung my head. Groaning at the idea of trudging back to my condo, I pulled at my lower lip with my fingers. A shiver slithered up my spine with delicious seduction as a sharp hitch of breath echoed close to me. The warmth of him radiated out toward me, like a lover desiring an intimate caress.

My head snapped to the right, acknowledging his proximity, sparking gooseflesh up my neck. My nose was mere inches from his chest at this point. Did he step closer again? He must be part giant. Holy hell, is that intoxicating aroma coming from him? Woodsy and leather?

I resisted the urge to inhale like some horny teenage weirdo. Then annoyance and shame surged through my veins, dimming the lust that threatened to rise.

I raised my gaze with the intention of a quippy remark, but a gasp escaped my throat as I registered his desire in his hooded eyes. Red stained my face once more, and my body betrayed me for the millionth time that day. Say something, dammit. Am I talking to him or me? God, one of us should say something.

My patience wore thin as I waited for the words he never uttered. Frustration eroded my composure; I turned to face him with my whole body. He loomed over my 5’6 frame. Not one to be intimidated, I arched my eyebrow, commanding him to speak. Unmoved, he said nothing. Ugh! f**k it!

“Well? Have I grown another head?” I blurted out, the disdain dripping from my lips. Digging deep for restraint, I bit back the malice I desired to spew the words, what in the actual f**k do you want? But I don’t need a response. I can take an easy guess as to what that might be. Men. Pfft. He crossed his arms and tilted his head as if trying to figure me out.

Unthinking, I lowered my eyes to the strain against the zipper of his jeans, which solidified my suspicions. I wish the ground swallowed me whole. Is it warm in here? He adjusted himself with one hand right in front of me, with no hint of bashfulness. Oh, for f**k’s sake, he doesn’t even care. That’s kind of a turn on. No! No, it’s not! Please keep it in your pants, Ronnie!

​I scoffed when I received a smug grin at being caught looking at his package. I’m so over this day.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to stare, but you must be new to the building. I haven’t seen you before,” he breathed out, his tone seductive and alluring. He unraveled my resolve with two sentences.

I prayed for a high pitch or nasal sound to quiet this lecherous beast threatening to emerge. I clenched my thighs together on instinct. He leaned against the wall next to me, proud of the effect he knew he had on me. So f*****g annoying.

In an act of defiance, I stepped back to insert distance between us and rolled my eyes. The guy who didn’t speak now proceeded with more cliché pick-up lines.

“There is no way I would have missed you. You make quite the impression,” he murmured, as he perused my whole body from head to toe, not bothering to conceal it from me.

He closed the distance I generated, his eyes sparkled, piercing through me. Anticipating his expectation for me to giggle and or blush at his blatant advances, I pursed my lips in response. My unaffected poise hid the betrayal of my damp panties. I need to stay the hell away from him.

The man embodied s****l sin, but I refused to yield to his potent charisma. Oh, I got your number, douche. It ain’t happening. Go to the barbecue with Miss Fake Boobs.

With more exaggeration, I rolled my eyes again, for his benefit, and mimicked his stance with arms folded over my breasts. Proving to be a mistake, as it pushed them up and created more cleavage. His roaming eyes did not neglect the opportunity.

Who cares how hot he is, what an ass! Speaking of, how firm is his ass? Please, brain, for the sake of my sanity, stop going there. Well, if I can’t control my damn horny thoughts, at least I maintained authority over everything else, sort of.

“Humph. Not that it matters, but yes, I’m new to the building, but I’m not new to whatever you are laying on so thick, DiCaprio,” I quipped.

Imitating him, I raked my eyes over his entire body, removing his clothes in my mind, with what I hoped emulated lust. Okay, I didn’t have to dig too deep to imitate that, as I wasn’t faking it.

When I reached his eyes once more, I switched from desire to indifference with a shrug. I turned on my heels and sauntered away. I shoved down the itch to race to my door and hide. Inside my head, a victory dance party ensued as I left behind stunned silence.

Point to me! The celebration ended up short-lived, to my dismay.

“Oh, before I forget, Green Eyes, when is the next concert? I can’t wait for the encore,” he taunted.

I paused, dropping my chin to my chest, and balled my fists in irritation. Sighing, heat engulfed my face AGAIN. I counted to ten, then continued to stalk away. A throaty laugh vibrated off the walls. Refusing to glance behind me, I feared the telltale smirk awaiting me. Ugh. Asshole. That’s two girls in fifteen minutes you sent off in a huff, jerk. How can I find him attractive?

His brazen taunting through the peephole and the awkward interaction with the blonde screaming one-night stand put me ill at ease. Adding the unabashed flirtation with me, ignoring his most recent assumed conquest, led me to my conclusion. Player. Stay away!

A brief fling is not a terrible idea, but a neighbor in my building, on my floor, spelled disaster. Bye, Colton. I will avoid you in the future. However, my stomach flipped in dread. No way he ignores a challenge. No better chase exists save for the one who loathes the hunt and evades the hunter. To the disappointment of all unwitting prey, the huntsman carries many snares in his arsenal. f**k my life.

Throwing my door shut with a literal swift kick to it, I shifted my focus to locating my mail details. Scouring the kitchen, I landed on the only place that made sense, the middle drawer, the junk one. The sad scrap of paper, the only thing hidden away. Irony.

The clock on my microwave reminded me that 5 minutes from now the moving men would be here. s**t! No more adventuring. Besides, “Colton” already robbed me of the drive to explore.

Lowering my forehead, I thumped it several times onto the kitchen counter with pained frustration, reliving the moment his face materialized on the other side of my door. The trip down Alice’s rabbit hole continued as I reeled from all the mortifying moments of the last few hours. My face has never experienced so much blushing in my life, let alone in one day.

As much as he grated on my nerves, I despised myself ten times more. He took up residence in my head, and, evident from the sensitivity in my bra and moisture in my underwear, he knocked on the door of my lady bits, as well. Treacherous whores.

I yelped when my phone rang and gripped my chest from the jump scare. I swiped it off the kitchen island and I opened the video call.

“Hey there!” I beamed at my best friend, Mel. Her bouncy medium-length red curls framed her freckled face. Pink, full lips, and a brilliant smile always highlighted her stylish wardrobe. People gravitated toward her infectious personality. She vibrated with energy in her tiny, 5'2" curvy body. That girl is on drugs or extreme amounts of caffeine.

“Are you there already? How is it? Those guys left here two minutes ago, so they should be there soon,” she rattled off in a feverish delirium.

“I’m going to be leaving in about fifteen minutes, bringing some bubbly to celebrate, or we can go out afterward. Say after! As in after they finish, and you, I mean we, can unpack all day Sunday.

If you want my opinion, we should be celebrating the first night you move in, not doing manual labor. We should be doing more titillating things that make us sweat...you know, stuff like hunky movers. One is lickable and climbable, well, for me, he is climbable!?” Mel laced her words with lust and humor. Her eyebrows waggle at me from my cell screen.

“Okay, first, breathe. Second, do we need to discuss narcotics again? I’m here for you and your journey to sobriety. Third, so you want to congratulate me on my new place by not spending time in it?”

“Well, duh. No, I want to commemorate the historic day of your official independence by being your wingwoman and finding you some new juicy c**k to wrap your lips around. You need a new p***s to get over the old p***s,” she joked.

“Ugh, Melissa!” I cringed. “That is the dirtiest way I’ve ever heard that mantra restated,” I chuckled. “That’s your answer to everything. Most people do ice cream for breakups, but you say new p***s. Other people purchase a cake for graduation, you say college p***s. It’s Veteran’s Day, and you say, military penis...I’m discovering a pattern with you,” I chastised.

“Well, if you don’t appreciate my remedy for everyday ailments and occasions, then your best friend card should be revoked,” she pouted, sticking her tongue out at me. “But for real, we are seeking man meat for you to play with later, right?”

“If you mean battery-operated, I can manage that.”

“See you soon, prude,” Mel sighed in feigned displeasure.