I don’t think I could ever look at another man again anyway, compared to him they’d all be useless. Redundant.
Sorry guys.
I feel like following him, needing to go after him really. It feels weird to have him there one minute and gone the next.
A part of me needs to know that he’s even real, that this is actually happening.
It isn’t long though, and I can hear him making relieved sounds from behind the door before he finally opens it, holding little Trixie in the crease of his elbow.
I feel my heart melt seeing the two of them together. She looks so tiny with him, and she’s looking up at him with total adoration.
Why wouldn’t she?
He hands her to me, and I nuzzle my face into her fur but like myself, she’s more interested in the new man.
The only man I’ve ever had in my apartment.
“Fort Knox out the front, but your kitchen window was unlocked. Anyone could have climbed in,” Max says firmly, almost scolding me.
He’s got a point though. I never even thought about the windows being a few stories up.
“I only mean it’s like a welcome mat for a serious intruder,” he adds, softening his tone. “If you’re worried about security, best to cover every point of entry.”
His eyes move up and down my body again, making me shiver and feel lightheaded all of a sudden.
I could listen to him read the back of a cereal box all day, his voice so deep and rich. Commanding but soothing at the same time.
I’m staring again but I can’t help it. I think it’s making him uneasy.
“Can we start over?” he finally asks, smiling and holding out his hand.
“I’m Maxwell Bear. But please, call me Max.”
“Phoebe Gold,” I squeak, feeling a ripple of electricity from his huge warm hand as it closes over mine.
“And this is…?” he asks, leaning down to get closer to Trixie as he shakes her tiny paw between his fingers. I feel my breath shudder from being so close to him.
“Trixie.” I manage, feeling like I need to sit down before my legs give out from under me.
“Pleased to meet you both,” he says with genuine interest. “And I’m assuming Trixie is the baby in question?” he asks, looking expectantly.
I make a face, apologizing for the misunderstanding.
“But you… You don’t have a baby?” he says again, more insistent.
“No,” I assure him. “It’s just me and Trixie, no babies.”
“And nobody else? Husband, boyfriend?”
His look is so intense, if it was anyone else I’d be worried. A little frightened even.
But his whole body relaxes once I spell it out for him, making me wonder what’s so great about me being all alone in this world.
“There’s nobody.” I hear myself tell him, my voice cracking a little as I probably say it a little too loud and too fast.
As if the whole building needs to know.
He smiles again, sheepishly. “Sorry, Phoebe. I just wondered if there was someone else you might have wanted to call. To let them know what’s happened,” he says, excusing the overreach of his questioning.
Hmm. Why would a man like this need to know if I was attached?
Rather than feel weird about it, I challenge him with his own questions, asking if his wife or girlfriend needs to know where he is.
Touché.
He looks wounded though, and I worry I’ve said the wrong thing.
He looks down at his feet, shy all of a sudden and I wish I hadn’t said anything.
“No. There’s no Mrs. Bear if that’s what you mean,” he says softly.
There’s an awkward silence, which I nervously fill by asking him how much I owe him.
Not that I have any money at the moment anyway.
Idiot.
Looking taken aback, he frowns. “I don’t think there’s any real charge,” he says. “But maybe I could take a look at that window of yours? It really should have a lock on it too,” he adds.
I feel like one of us has some sense at least.
The thought of him just leaving right now would probably kill me.
I’d spend the rest of my days wondering, what if? And why did he have to go?
“I’d like that,” I tell him honestly, and he moves aside so I can get past him before he follows me in, closing the door behind him.
If he filled the hallway, Maxwell Bear is bursting out of my tiny apartment just by being in it.
The man is huge but in the best possible way.
A pure A-grade male specimen by the looks, and he makes me giggle as he tries to navigate the tiny room without knocking anything over.
The kitchen is really the other half of the living room, which is also my bedroom. The other room is a bathroom and storage space, which sounds funny when I say that. It’s really just a corner.
A wave of dread washes over me as I realize I’ve just let the most amazing man into my apartment, which is actually a broom closet that costs me eight hundred a month.