Chapter 1

• "Hey! Stop kicking that door!" a man called out to Nathalie. She turned around to see him standing a few feet behind her, holding an umbrella.
• "I can kick my own door if I want to!" Nathalie shouted back, clearly not in the mood to be told off.
• "If it's your own door, then why don't you just go inside?" the man asked, sounding amused.
• "Because my keys are inside, and I don't know anyone in this stupid town. The only people with spare keys are too far away, it's too late, my car keys are inside, and—"
• "Okay, I get it," he interrupted her rant. "Come on. Follow me."
• Before Nathalie could question his intentions, he walked over to the door of the apartment next to hers and she heard his keys clanging. Of course, he had his keys. Not everyone was as unfortunate as she was. Nathalie hesitated for a second about following a stranger into his house, but it was cold, and she was wet—and she didn't need any more convincing.
• "You're dripping wet," the man commented as Nathalie stepped into his small hallway. "I'm going to get you a towel."
• He wasn't wrong; Nathalie was drenched and shivering. With a sigh, she placed her grocery bags on the mat and removed her shoes, not wanting to tread dirt into his apartment. She shrugged off her light jacket and dropped it by her shoes. Her dress was soaked too, but she obviously couldn't take that off.
• "Getting naked already?" he quipped.
• Nathalie looked up, taking in the man properly for the first time. She hadn't really looked him in the eye before, and now allowed herself a cursory glance. He seemed to be in his late thirties with messy brown hair. He was wearing a suit, complete with a tie, though it was slightly damp and muddy. Despite that, he looked good. His black shoes were muddy too, and he had left footprints in the hallway, so she guessed she needn't have worried about her dirty shoes. Even though his suit concealed much, she could tell he was quite well-built underneath. Her eyes traveled back up and she noticed his dark green eyes appraising her as well. They twinkled with amusement when they met her gaze.
• "So, you think I'm hot," he said with a smirk. "Right back at you, door kicker."
• "I don't think you're—" Nathalie started, then laughed. There was no point denying it; he was just teasing her. "Thanks for the compliment."
• "No problem." He smirked again. "You do know I can see your bra, right?"
• Nathalie cursed and looked down, realizing he was right. Her yellow sundress wasn't meant for rain. No wonder he'd invited her in—she must have looked quite the sight.
• He handed her the towel and laughed when she held it in front of her chest. "How about you take a hot shower and get into some dry clothes while I open up a bottle of wine?"
• What was happening?
• "What did you buy anyway?" he inquired, moving over to her grocery bags and peeking inside. He was much closer now, and Nathalie felt a little uneasy with him near her see-through sundress. "Oh wow," he commented. "Were you going to cook this late at night? A gourmet meal, no less?"
• Nathalie couldn't help but smile at that. "It was meant for tomorrow, actually."
• "I'm hungry now," he replied.
• What was this guy's deal? He invited her, a complete stranger, into his apartment, complimented her and pointed out he could see her bra, and now he was implying she should cook for him?
• "I'm really grateful that you got me out of the rain," Nathalie told him, making sure the towel stayed in front of her. "Really grateful. But I need to call a cab and get a hotel room for the night. I'll call my friend tomorrow to get my spare keys."
• "No need for that," he said with a smirk. Why did men with such arrogant smiles always seem so appealing? "There's a spare bedroom here. I'm sure I can find you a shirt to sleep in. You can save yourself the money and the trouble. Plus, I could use some company."
• Nathalie gave him a curious glance. He kept teasing her and making insinuations about the night, but that last remark felt genuine. Why would he need company from someone he'd just met on the street?
• "Okay," she decided. She really didn't feel like aimlessly searching for a place to stay. Funds had been tight for a while, and she wasn't even sure if her credit card would cover a hotel room. Her new job started in a week, so money was still a concern.
• "Okay?" The man's smile turned genuine, brightening his face. Nathalie noticed just how piercing his green eyes were, accompanied by charming dimples.
• Nathalie shrugged, considering her options. "I figure this is as good a way as any to meet my new neighbor," she decided. "Point me to the shower, will you?"
• "My pleasure," Ethan replied smoothly.
• As Nathalie stepped into the bathroom, she noticed its oddly unused appearance. There were no toothbrushes, no wet towels on the floor, no shower gel—nothing that indicated anyone actually used this space. It was furnished with a shower curtain, but that was all.
• Ethan left momentarily to fetch her a towel and some shower gel, promising to leave some dry clothes on the hallway side table and to stay in the living room while she showered. Once he departed, Nathalie quickly peeled off her wet dress and discarded her underwear, letting the hot water wash over her chilled body. It was a welcome relief after the unexpected events of the day—a day that had gone far from her plans. It was only her second day in town after her big move, and she was already finding herself in unusual situations.
• Reflecting, Nathalie wondered what she was doing here, in a stranger's apartment—a man considerably older than her, by about fifteen years she estimated—and whose name she didn't even know. Part of her realized she should probably just head to a hotel, but curiosity kept her in place. She had moved to this town to truly start living, and perhaps tonight was a chance to do just that. She had a list of things to do in her first months, and meeting new people was high on it. Having a one-night stand was another. Why not achieve both in her first week? It was efficient, in a way.
• When she felt warm, clean, and dry, Nathalie exited the shower to see what clothes Ethan had left. She quickly pulled them into the bathroom to change there instead of the hallway. The selection was... minimal—a large men's shirt and boxer shorts. She wasn't sure how to feel about it. While the ensemble wasn't revealing, it certainly wasn't the most flattering. Part of her was relieved that there were no women's clothes in the apartment, suggesting the absence of a wife or girlfriend, yet she had hoped for perhaps some yoga pants or an old dress. No such luck—baggy shirt and boxers it was.
• Or perhaps just the shirt... She smiled at the thought, discarding the boxers. The shirt was long enough to cover her adequately, but she was sure Ethan would notice eventually. Was she interpreting the situation correctly? Surely her staying over implied they'd end up together? Nathalie felt a flutter of nerves but choosing the shirt-alone option felt like a bold, unspoken move. It gave her a confidence boost.