Chapter 3: One Step Forward Two Steps Back

Her expression was pinched, and holding her hand alone, George could still feel the tension in her body. "Why?" She whispered softly, a contrast to the fiery look in her eyes.

"The first day we met, you seized my breath with that deadly glare you gave me only because I was sitting in your favorite chair in the hallway. Then you spoke, unforgivably scathing words in a shockingly polite tone when I insisted I wasn't getting up. You were..." He shook his head, his lips turning up in amusement. "You are an enigma, Isla. I had to see more of you so--"

"You made it a goal to annoy me every day," Isla finished for him, mentally scolding herself for how her pulse picked up.

George nodded, looking a bit embarrassed for the mushy stuff he had just spewed out. "Corny, right?"

Isla pulled her gaze away from those magnetic brown eyes, thinking. George was an annoying moron sure, but she had also witnessed his good side.

There was a day it was about to rain, Isla had gone out, pulled her dry clothes from the cloth line and ignored those of her neighbors. Just because she worked from home didn't mean that she was their servant. Later that evening, she overheard the other tenants thanking George profusely for bringing in their clothes.

He treated the almost toothless old woman like his own grandmother. He cooked food sometimes and shared with everyone, though Isla always rejected it. He was loud, an idiot, a showoff but he was a good guy. Gosh, the guy had let her punch and scratch him without retaliation. The evidence of her bout of shameless lack of control, were tiny bloody marks on his arms.

"Sorry about that." She motioned to his arms. "I really lost it there."

"I will forgive you, if you go on a date with me."

This guy was a persistent piece of work, but Isla couldn't deny that she was enjoying the attention. However, first things first.

"I want this wall fixed first," his brown eyes were making it hard to think. "I don't want you doing anything funny. Fix it so I can think straight."

That cocky grin again. "Oh, were you thinking that we..."

"Do you want this date or not?" She snapped, fighting back the blush on her cheeks.

"I am going to call someone from the repairs office right now!" He said hurriedly, his face lit with excitement at her unspoken agreement. "Don't change your mind!"

Seconds later he was gone through the hole. She heard a ruffling noise . Probably putting on some clothes, she reasoned. Next she heard his apartment door slam close, that was when she allowed herself to relax. A delicious shiver passed through her at the prospect of getting to know this handsome man better. She prayed that she wouldn't regret it.

She had more than enough regrets in her lifetime.

---

Isla's good mood did not fade a bit all through her day at work. Sure, she was physically drained, but the thrill of going on a date with George just made her ecstatic. Her steps were bouncy and as much as she tried to maintain her usual aloofness, some of her employees noticed the bit of cheeriness she couldn't conceal.

Amaka, her best friend, a lively African-American lady who didn't cower at Isla half the way her colleagues did, had commented that she seemed to be bubbling internally with excitement. Isla, of course brushed it off as having slept really well. Her P.A turned best friend hadnt probed further, but knowing Amaka, it was only temporary.

Sighing in resignation to the thought of being interrogated further, Isla twisted the key into her apartment door's lock to let herself in. The air-conditioning hit her full blast and she cringed at having forgotten to switch it off. 'Great,' she thought with a sigh. 'More bills to pay.'

Not that it hurt her to pay the bills though. Complaining about expenses, even though it hardly touched her savings was a hobby of hers.

Once she was in her apartment, she made straight for her room. Her good mood evaporated like methylatedspirit poured out on the ground at the sight of the wall. It was still as she had left it. Untouched.

A gaping hole.

The only difference was that the cleaner she had called had put her room in order, but that was it.

Gingerly, she closed her bedroom door and walked the distance to face the hole squarely. George's room was just there. Four more steps forward and she would be in his room. How could she sleep in her room comfortably,with that man just within reach?

Having silently conceded to her long denied feelings for him, and hearing him express his had only made the tension between them worse. Hence the reason she insisted the wall be fixed. Had he not taken her seriously? Was his respect for her so low that he blatantly ignored her request?

Or maybe he couldn't afford the repair cost? He should have at least told her!

The last thing she would do, was to sleep with or date a man that had no regard for her feelings. She was turning away from the hole to search for a blanket, that could help keep her privacy until tomorrow. Just then she heard the door to George's room click open. Seconds later George sauntered in.

He was humming to a song that was likely blaring in his ears through his earphones. He pulled off his cap and dropped it on his bed. Then his hands went to the hem of his t-shirt, about to pull it up.

Isla knew that the right thing to do at this point was to look away, but who could look away from this complete hotness. Even when she was mad at him, she was always painfully aware of how attractive he was. The t-shirt was halfway up when he noticed her.

Chocolate eyes clashed with blue ones. Held.

He flashed her that sultry smirk that always made her melt inside. Then slowly, very slowly and deliberately, he pulled the shirt up and over his head. He wore no singlet beneath. Isla's eyes instantly glued to the firm muscles now on display. Toned torso, a bit shiny with sweat, begging to be licked... tongue trailing right down to his... catching those dirty thoughts before they got her in trouble, Isla flashed him an angry glare.

He was wearing a full-blown smirk now. Having enjoyed the way she had ravished his body with her eyes, as well as the look of embarrassment on her face now. She was so full of complexities. He strode to where she stood, the collapsed/inexistent wall the only thing between them.

"Enjoyed that?" He asked, a playful note in his tone.

Her response was quick and harsh. "Nothing special to see there,buddy."

George almost flinched at her tone. Almost. He was more confused than offended. "What's wrong? I thought we have gone beyond the glaring and mean words."

"Oh? So my earlier friendliness is the reason you had the audacity to pretend you were going to fix this wall, and then do nothing? This was your plan all along! You won't fix the wall, so you can have easy access to my room?" Isla's voice was low, yet the words hit him hard.

"I did go to find someone to fix it! Believe me!" He protested, hating how close he was to going back to square zero with her.

Isla rose a disbelieving brow, "And then what?"

"The repairs office I went to had only one drywall expert on duty who was attending to another call. I came back after he assured me that he will come in a couple of hours. I waited six hours to no avail." George paused, and Isla watched as he fumbled through his pocket for his phone. He turned the device outward toward her. Eight missed calls to a number saved as repair-man glared at her. Isla could feel her cheeks burn with embarrassment now.

Oblivious to her discomfort, George continued, "Then I called and called, but he didn't pick up. Around 4pm, I went out again to find the man, but he hasn't returned. Long story short, the man couldn't meet up and the repair office urged me to come back early tomorrow morning. His gaze was unabashedly fixed on her face as he spoke. There was a hint of amusement in those brown eyes that made her want to run into her room and hide under a blanket.

There was only one thing that Isla knew she had to day at this point. "I am sorry."

Smiling gently at her, he shrugged, "You don't have to worry. I wouldn't take advantage of you in your sleep."

A sinfully pleasant thrill went through her at that statement, and the warmth she felt below her stomach since he walked in intensified. The mental image of that situation was just too hot. Her eyes were begging to drop down to his chest and gulp in those abs and pecs.

"Put a shirt on," Isla bit out, and turned away into her room. How was she going to survive the night with George right in the room across hers?