B & M Chapter 2

“Young man? I could use a little help here. Ya look like you could carry an elephant with all those muscles ya got stacked on that delicious body.” A fluffy poof of red hair said from behind him. Joan Lopez. Just my luck.

Angling to face her and still keep one eye on me, Blaze raises a hand in greeting as the shameless woman wobbles up my stairs. Wobble, really?  Immediately he springs towards her and I scramble to catch the screen door before it slams into my face. Skipping a few steps to get to her faster, he slides his arm through hers and escorts her to the top. As spry as she is at her age, she does a good job pretending to be the helpless old lady on the block. A chill breeze drifts past them and mingles the scent of her vanilla perfume with Blazes utterly intoxicating scent of man. The screen door rocked back and forth with the breeze and Blazes foot shifts forward to secure a hold on the frame. Dressed in worn out jeans and a tight black tee, his black steel toe boots added that extra oomph to his rugged sex appeal. His short, black hair and dark eyes securing that big fat checkmark on the can-he-be-more-sexy list. Evidence of a deep summer tan just now starting to fade lingers on his skin, and although covered, his broad shoulders bulge with muscle only earned with hard work and dedication. A long, zig zag scar prominently displayed on his forearm stood out  like an old tattoo and between his masculine fingers,  my book-- thick and full of sex with a cover that paled in his wake. Snatching the book from his fingers, I hid it behind my back before Joan could glimpse it. With a labored breath, Joan dramatically clutches the fabric over her heart, surreptitiously pulling it down to expose her cleavage. Knowing exactly what she is doing, I allow myself a moment to imagine her falling down the steps, and then scold myself for thinking such a bad thing.
Without sparing me a glance, Joan loops her arm around Blazes bicep and points to the brown bag sitting atop the trunk of her car.

“Would ya be a dear and carry those inside? I’m only next door.” Angling to see him from the top of her shades, she bats her eyelashes. Hussy. She sure as hell isn’t wasting any time. That woman is all predator.  Need help with your bag, huh?  Riiiight. And were was her more than capable husband? Anger colored my cheeks and I struggled to hide my displeasure with Mrs.-Lure-them-in-Lopez.

“Sure, I don’t mind,” he said then turned to me with an apologetic look.

“Here,” I blurted, handing him the key. He shook his head.

“Hold on to it. I’ll be right back.”

It wasn’t that he said he would return that had my heart racing. It was the determined look in his eyes promising me he would. I gave him a weak nod, all the while praying I didn’t blush again.

Turning, he escorted Joan down the porch steps and made a sharp right towards her house. By the looks of it, he was going to get her home first then retrieve her bag. A gentleman too? It was too early to tell if it was a genuine act or new neighbor syndrome. Like a puppy waiting for her treat, I watch him walk to the car and lift the brown paper bag not bothering to look inside. And that would be a good thing. What was in that bag could range from groceries to sex toys and by the way Blaze hefted it up without a problem, I was betting it was the latter. Being the oldest couple on the block didn’t necessarily mean your sex drive was dead. There were plenty of sleepless nights in the Lopez residence and they weren’t ashamed to tell everyone about it. Most of our neighbors heard them anyway.  Joan and Jose Lopez were famous on our block. And lucky me, I live next door.

Sparing me a smile, Blaze took to the steps two at a time and hands the bag over to a shirtless Mr. Lopez who just happened to saunter out on his porch, shaking his extended hand in greeting. I lean into the screen sliding my barefoot out to toe the porch, testing the temperature before stepping out. It was clear the promiscuous couple had plans for him. Blaze would be awhile, and I didn’t want to look eager or desperate waiting for him. Immediately his attention was on me as I stepped out. My breath quickening, I blink several times as if that would help stop the flutter in my chest. Noticing me as well, Jose took his time looking me up and down--“admiring” he corrected when I once mentioned his ogling made me uncomfortable, and a dirty smile formed on his plump lips.

“Hola, Miranda.” His thick accent rolling the r and hitting hard on the d, carries over as loud and clear as a church bell on a Sunday morning. He was handsome and suave, like an older version of Antonio Banderas, but as naughty as a male stripper with handcuffs and a whip.  “Care to join us for coffee? You can help us welcome the new neighbor properly.”

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. Plastering a fake-as-all-hell smile on my face, I held up the key and motion to my mailbox. Blazes apologetic look meant that he had been guilted into a cup of coffee at the Lopez’s. Lifting the rusty lid, I drop the key in the mailbox. Relieved that I hadn’t picked up yesterdays mail, I pull out the thin stack and shuffle through them pretending that I wasn’t bothered he wasn’t coming back and silently go back inside. The warmth of the living room hit me, and I shuddered when a cold draft slipped past the door as it closed. Slowly, I slid to the floor pulling my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. Head down and eyes closed, I attempt to calm to my nerves, willing them into subservience.  My thoughts return to a few minutes ago when Blaze knocked on my door.  I hadn’t even introduced myself. Instead, I babbled on about tracking packages and blushed a million shades of red. Oh God! I was a babbling fool who freakishly blushes in Technicolor. I can just curl up and die.

*****
“And now… what you all have been waiting for… Miranda’s … amazing… strip tease light show. Come one, come all!” Jetta proclaimed, dramatically flailing her hands in the air in a showbiz way almost knocking over the tall drinking glasses lined up in her new kitchen cabinets. Below her, the sink glistened, shiny from the bubbly soap the glasses had been in earlier. The sun from the kitchen window spotlighting her petite figure, made the peek-a-boo pink strands look ultra bright under her gleaming black locks.

“Jetta, how can you joke at a time like this? I’m never going to be able to show my face. How am I supposed to avoid him if he lives next door? We’re bound to run into each other. It’s inevitable!” Letting my face fall into my hands, I imagine Blaze pointing and laughing each time I hurry past his house. A chorus of laughter erupts around me as the neighbors join in, rotten fruit in their grip ready and waiting.

“And that is exactly why you’re going to wear your sexiest dress, walk over to his house, and introduce yourself properly. AND if I were you, I wouldn’t wear panties. Oh and forget the bra. He’s already seen what you have to offer, no sense in hiding it now,” Jetta said with nonchalance while pushing a button to start the coffee maker. 

“Are you insane? There is no way in hell…“

Holding up a hand to stop my protest, she eases the cabinet door closed, her small hand landing on her hip.

“Look, Miranda, it’s not that big a deal. People meet all the time, and it’s usually awkward. “It’s normal, Miranda. He probably didn’t think anything of it. Your being a drama queen.”

Am I really being a drama queen? Maybe. Yes. Yes I am. She’s right; it’s not that big of a deal. First impressions aren’t that important, right?

“When you put it that way, it doesn’t seem so bad. I’m sure if I thought about it, I could remember a few awkward moments in my life.”

Jetta was way ahead of me. Finger pointed my way, smirk on her face, and past memories a gleam in her eye, she saunters around the table and pulls a box from under it before hefting it on top. Sliding it towards me, she bends down and pulls one out for herself. The brown box in front of me was marked “dishes” in black marker. The scent of the sharpie was faint, but still overpowering if you got too close. The box in her possession said “china” which meant it was going into the dining room and into her expensive china cabinet, strictly reserved for holiday use. I tug the duct tape off, careful not to rattle the contents.

“Remember when you met Randy? He said the sweetest things.  You were so overwhelmed with emotion, you ran out of the room with tears in your eyes. It was so romantic.” She laid a hand on her chest crossing it with the other to appear endearing and batted her eyelashes. I sigh remembering that night a completely different way.

“Yeah I was crying, Jetta. Because my boobs were on fire from the scalding coffee he spilled on me when he tripped over his own feet. He followed me around for the rest of the night apologizing. How romantic, right?  Really, you should be a matchmaker. We would have made a perfect couple, you know. Our babies would have been…unique,” I said thinking of his bug eyes and rat looking features.

“Or how about that time at the club when you had instant chemistry with that guy Bruce, you literally fell into his arms you were so head over heals in love.” Carrying her box into the other room, she pivots just enough for me to glimpse her lips upturned in a devilish grin.

I snort. “You know me, falling into every bouncers arms when a fight breaks out. His name is Big Bruce. He doesn’t like it when you call him plain old Bruce.” Her howling laughter drifted into the kitchen filling the empty space between us.

Carefully maneuvering a handful of plates out of the box, I gingerly set them on the tablecloth then reach in for more. We’ve unpacked all morning and were almost finished. The smell of fresh coffee filled the room and my stomach grumbled. Glancing over the coffee maker to the medium sized clock on the wall, I smile. I had gifted her that clock for Christmas. On the face, each number had been hand painted by yours truly on a picture of a blow dryer and curling iron. The hour and minute hands shaped like her favorite sheers and the seconds hand an exact replica of her foiling comb. Perfect for her salon, but she insisted it would look great in her new kitchen. Which it did and still would after she made the space more to her liking. It was almost noon and time for a break.  The last drips of the coffee rang out over our laughter, and I walk over to the cabinet, pull out two black mugs, set them on the counter, and fill them while Jetta pulled out some homemade chocolate chip cookies.

“Look, I know the feeling, “she said suddenly serious. Taking the mug from me, she settled into the chair.
“When Geo walked into my aunt’s salon, I hid in the break room for five minutes after I made a fool of myself during the consultation. You wouldn’t believe it, but I was a little bit shy back then. My aunt found me almost in tears. She made me go back out and cut his hair. I begged her to do it, but she gave me some excuse about him only wanting me to do it and that gave me the confidence to leave the room. “Her plump lips curved up into a sweet smile and the memory of her past swam across her face.

“I thought you two argued and you kicked him out. Am I missing something?” Pushing myself off of the granite counter, I walked over and sat next to her. Taking a sip of coffee, I reached for a cookie and took a bite.

“No, you’re not missing anything. We did argue and I did kick him out. He had long hair at the time and I didn’t like the way it looked on him, so I fixed it. As you can imagine, he wasn’t happy about it. He said I ruined his career and that he would never get another modeling job with short hair. Instead of thanking me for transforming him into a sex god, he yelled at me and I kicked him out. A week later, he showed up with two dozen roses and tickets to the Lakers game. His way of apologizing and asking me out at the same time. He was booked for the next three months and of course, it was because of me. Our first date wasn’t so great, but out second was magical. The rest is history.” With a sweet new calm about her, she reached out and gently touched my arm. Her eyes were sincere and full of love. “You’ll be fine once you put yourself out there. Just be yourself.”

Be myself? Great. I’m going to bore Blaze to death.

*****

I welcomed the cool evening breeze as I exited the taxi and made my way across the street.  The aggressive breeze whipping my hair back and forth made it a difficult task to corral the loose strands into a quick, sloppy twist before securing it with a glittery butterfly clip.  The cabs engine hummed to life behind me, leaving a trail of exhaust as I crossed the street and headed down the block towards my house. Spending the day at Jetta’s was fun. Everything was better now that I had talked to her and I felt confident that no one would be throwing rotten fruit my way. It was obvious by the lack of hustle and bustle that everyone was in for the evening, eating dinner or watching their favorite television shows before turning in. Shivering, I dug in my purse for my keys, wanting to get inside and out of the chill of the night.  Reminding myself to set my alarm a half hour early, I climbed up my stairs, still searching for my keys.  Finally pulling it out along with a few gum wrappers and a tin of mints, I absentmindedly pulled the screen door and reached for the knob twisting it to make sure I locked it before I left. I knew I did, but living alone, I have plenty of time to think up the worst home invasion scenarios.

All of my fears sprang to life in one quick moment when the knob twisted and the door swung open. I’ve never planned past the doorknob twisting open, so I just stood there frozen in place when a pair of black boots came to a halt underneath my nose. A familiar scent I recognized forced my head to snap up. My gut tightened and a wave of nausea slammed into me. I wasn’t on my porch. Oh my god, this isn’t my door! I stood there, blinking, unable to form a thought, and desperately trying not to faint. Blaze. It was Blaze. It was clear I startled him, but his expression softened when our eyes met and he smiled, his shoulders shifting into a relaxed pose.

“Hey…hi. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here when I opened the door.” Leaning against the doorframe, he stuck his leg out and held the screen open with his boot.  With the weight of the screen off of me, I stood up straight and cleared my throat. Jetta was right. I should introduce myself. Especially since I already did the walking up to his house part.  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice how good he looked in his faded jeans or how I imagined he would look without that muscle hugging t-shirt. My heart raced and threatened to jump out of my body, and I reminded myself that I wasn’t here to ogle him. No. I was here to redeem my dignity and repair the broken image he must have of me. First impressions may be flawed, but second ones don’t have to be. 


“I’m Miranda,” I said in a small voice. I was going for confident, but it sounded mousy. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier. Sorry for coming by so late. I was on my way home and I wanted to make sure you got your key back.” I said all of this so fast, I wasn’t sure he heard me. Running my fingers over my hair, I pulled the clip off freeing the confined strands to avoid the potential headache from having it up too long. Shaking my hair out, I ran my fingers through it before dropping the clip in my purse along with my keys.  Nervous is not even close to what I am right now, but I stuck my hand out determined to follow this through.


“Yes, I did. Thank you, Miranda.” He took my extended hand in his and squeezed.  “You want to come in? I’m about to start dinner.” Still holding my hand, he gently brushed his thumb across mine. Tingles? Am I tingling? Yes. I am definitely tingling. 

Oh my god! Did he just invite me over? The unreasonable part of my mind screams YES, struts past him with swaying hips, and seductively slides onto his sofa with a final cross of the legs. The reasonable side points out that I don’t know him and although I think he is the sexiest man alive, going inside would probably give him the wrong impression. The genuine anticipation in his beautiful eyes melted my insides and I didn’t have the heart to say no. Truth be told, I didn’t know how to be reasonable around him. I’m normally calm and rational and have my head firmly on my shoulders. I am a strong independent woman. But when I’m around him, the shy teen I once was takes over and I can’t seem to find my bearings. The only reason I’m talking to him now is because I accidentally walked up to his door thinking it was my own. The plan I concocted on the cab ride here was to “accidentally” run into him while “conveniently” leaving at the same time. Stalker-ish, I know, but it sounded good to the cabbie too. Although he didn’t look too interested in what I had to say, his nod of approval was enough for me.

“Sure, I’d like that, but…It looked like you were heading out,” I said pulling my hand out of his and hoped he wasn’t going on a date.

Behind me, the wind picked up and whipped against my back once again forcing my hair in every direction. The temperature had dropped and I stifled the urge to wrap my arms around myself.

“Leaving? No. I was going to walk over and invite you, but you were already here when I opened the door.” He smiled and reached for my hand. I let him take it, frozen with disbelief. “So now that I’ve asked and you’re already here…do you want to come in?” Our eyes locked, and I went blank.

Feeling like I was in a dream, I gave in and let Blaze pull me forward. Would it be to bold to ask him to pick me up and carry me inside? The little teen in me giggled with delight at that thought and I felt myself relax. It was just dinner and I could do that. Who doesn’t like food? Besides, he’s probably lonely and needs some company. What’s wrong with making friends? Nothing. Nothing at all.

The loud shrieking of brakes on the curb behind us killed my warm, fuzzy feelings and replaced them with the worst kind of dread. The obnoxious honk, honk, honk, honk, honk, confirmed my worst nightmare coming to pass. Being with Blaze for these few moments, I’d forgotten about everything. Almost everything. This problem behind me didn’t want to disappear no matter how many times I told it to.

With a gentle yet urgent tug, I pulled my hand out of Blazes grip and backed out of the threshold.
“I have to go,” was all I said and I was down the stairs and jogging towards my front door, keys out and ready. Scott was fast up the stairs and in my face before I could breathe out an annoyed hello.

“Don’t touch me,” I said in my most disgusted voice. And the night was going so well.

Scott, my ex boyfriend, with the worst timing ever, scowled as he towered over me.

“You’re the one who left me! I should be disgusted with you. How can you be so cold, Miranda? After five years, I can’t get a decent greeting? You’re such a bitch!” Leaning against my screen door to block my way, he looked smug and satisfied as he waited for my eyes to moisten with tears.

But there were no tears, just a pissed off ex girlfriend with a mean right hook. How dare he put this on me. He was the one who cheated. How could he expect me not to leave him?

“You’re the cheating scumbag. I was the faithful one; remember? What the fuck do you want? I don’t have all night.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I dared him to call me a bitch again with my eyes. He stood up straight and cleared his throat. Clearly, he didn’t expect things to go this way. I said goodbye to Scott eight months ago and he still found a way to bug the shit out of me. I had gotten past the heartache and moved on with my life. He didn’t deserve me and I wasn’t going to spend all my free time crying over him. I’ve even been on a few dates since then and finally adjusted to being alone.

“How many times do I have to apologize? I made a mistake, Miranda. Why won’t you forgive me? I still love you. Don’t you love me?” The pleading look in his grey eyes almost had me fooled until a shadow crossed the sidewalk and made its way towards us. Scott tensed and quickly shifted expressions. And just like that, our conversation was over. Serena Stoich, my old friend and coworker, wobbled towards us, one hand clutching her beautiful maternity gown that draped perfectly over her very pregnant belly. I willed myself to vanish, silently clicking my heels together and thinking there is no place like home. If only Scott would get out of my way, I could just slip through the door and make this all go away.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, the Lopez’s porch light flipped on and Mrs. Lopez stepped out.