Chapter 5- A Messy Welcome

Perhaps I should have called first to ensure he was home?

Audrey bit her bottom lip as she gazed up at the apartment complex with its twenty floors and secure entrance. Wouldn't it be terrible if he had stayed out late with his friends or had gone to bed too early? It was, after all, eleven thirty.

She dragged her two hefty luggage to the front doors, then stepped inside and stood in front of the intercom system. She took a step back and waited after dialing his three-digit phone number. Fortunately, she did not have to wait long.

When he responded, his voice was filled with confusion. "Hello?"

She sang, "Daniel, it's me!"

A pause occurred. "Audrey?"

"Yeah. Are you going to let me in?"

As the second door swung open, a loud buzzing echoed overhead. Audrey wheeled her bags toward the elevators, relieved to find one already open. She stepped inside, pressed the button for the fifteenth floor, and exhaled as the doors slid shut. The elevator rumbled, then began its slow, groaning ascent.

Despite the tiredness that had been depleting her body of energy from the fear outside of town, she was thrilled with anticipation.

Don’t think about the past, she reminded herself.

Instead. She imagined Daniel's thin face with a dimple in his chin, high cheekbones, a broad forehead, and that neatly swept dark brown hair. His deep brown eyes had once made her feel safe. It had been a long time since she traced her fingers across his jawline and placed her lips against his hungry, pink ones.

It’s been too long… A faint smile curved her lips as she imagined his kiss—desperate, heated, filled with longing. Her stomach fluttered at the thought. If her suitcase hadn’t been so heavy, she might have skipped down the hallway to his apartment.

Unfortunately, she had to use the little power she had left to pull her possessions to his door at the end of the corridor and knock.

The wide grin she had expected didn’t come. Instead, Daniel's tired expression mirrored her own.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Daniel raked a hand through his thick hair, glancing nervously toward the living room. Her gaze followed—and her heart sank.

The place wasn’t a disaster, but it hadn’t seen a deep clean in weeks. Socks—none of them matching—littered the floor. Dust collected in the corners near the entry. A T-shirt hung from a lamp like a forgotten flag, and a pair of boxers peeked out between the couch cushions. Crumbs dusted the carpet beneath the coffee table, which was cluttered with empty takeout containers and dirty plates

She wrinkled her nose as a musty odor emanated from the door in greeting.

“I was going to clean up tomorrow… before you got here,” he mumbled.

She raised an eyebrow. Too tired to argue, she sighed and stepped inside. “We’ll deal with it tomorrow. I’m too tired to care.”

Daniel dipped his head. “Yeah. Sorry. You can take a shower—or a bath, if you’d like.” He brightened and wiggled his brows. “"Maybe I can join you?"

Normally, she would have been delighted at the chance to take a hot shower with him, but not this time. She brushed it off, much to his dismay. "Next time."

He helped haul her bags in while she disappeared into the bathroom. Frustration and fatigue swirled in her chest. She unraveled her honey-brown hair from its messy bun, combing it with her fingers as she eyed the bathroom sink. Whiskers. Thick brown ones, clinging to the drain like some tiny hairy monster.

She swore under her breath as she stripped and turned on the water to heat it up. She hoped it was only a lapse in general tidiness. That he'd been too busy with his job to keep the place tidy on a daily basis, but...

How difficult was it to place the dirty dishes in the sink and wash them every night?

Sighing, she entered the shower and let the hot water fall on her neck and shoulders.

I’ll deal with everything tomorrow.

By morning, the apartment looked slightly better. Daniel had picked up the clothes and stacked the dishes in the sink—though none had been washed. It took them nearly three hours to scrub the place clean, soak sticky pans, and wipe every surface.

Audrey’s stomach growled in protest near the end.

“I’m starving,” she grumbled.

Daniel’s stomach growled back, making him laugh. “That makes two of us.”

She huffed and placed her hands on her hips, "You had better treat me to some lunch, after all the time I spent cleaning up your messes."

He raised his hands in surrender before throwing an arm around her delicate waist and pulled her close to him. "That, I can do."

He kissed her lips gently—an apology, a plea—and despite her annoyance, the butterflies stirred. She didn’t want to forgive him, not yet… but she let him lead her out anyway.

They ended up at a café just a few blocks away—small, cozy, and filled with the scent of roasted coffee and warm pastries. Audrey’s eyes lit up as soon as they stepped inside.

He may be a slob, she thought, but he knows how to make his girl happy.

Yet something tugged at her.

Audrey had been feeling an unusual unsettled sensation tugging on her since they left the apartment complex. She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the street outside. Nothing unusual. Probably just nerves from moving in—and hunger.

The moment passed.

Then she caught sight of the glass pastry case and nearly melted.

All sensations of discomfort vanished as she gazed at the wonderful delights behind the glass. Her mouth began to water as she inhaled the aroma of baked goods and coffee with hints of vanilla, chocolate, and hazelnut.

She pressed her finger against the glass at each pastry, saying, “I want that, that… and that. Oh my God—what is that? I want it!” she cried, pointing rapidly.

Daniel laughed. "Like a kid in a candy store."

She shot him a mock glare. “Shut up. You owe me.”

Grinning, he nodded toward the counter. “"Wipe the drool from your lips and tell Becky what you want."

Audrey blinked. Becky? She stood up straight and looked at the woman behind the counter—a curvy brunette with a warm smile and a sparkling name tag under the café’s bright lights. Audrey reached up, wiping a bit of moisture from the corner of her lip. Crap. She actually drooled.

Her cheeks heated up, so she wiped the drool from the corner of her lips and smiled sheepishly at the woman.

Her cheeks flushed as she placed her order: all four pastries she’d pointed to, plus a large coffee. Becky rang them up with a chuckle.

Audrey took a look around while waiting. The café was bigger than it looked outside—modern and warm. Wooden tables, cream-upholstered chairs, and floor-to-ceiling windows filled the space with golden sunlight. Soft jazz played in the background. Framed photos of the neighborhood hung on the walls, adding a comforting, lived-in feel.

For the first time in what felt like days, Audrey began to relax.

Then the bell above the door chimed.

Her head turned instinctively—and her breath caught.

A man stepped inside. Tall. Broad. He filled the doorway like a shadow falling over the room. He wore a weathered leather jacket that clung to his shoulders and faded jeans that fit too well to be careless. His hair was dark, tousled, falling just above striking, icy-blue eyes.

There was something wild about him. Untamed. Dangerous.

Her gaze lingered on the rugged line of his jaw, the stubble darkening his cheeks, the faint scar slicing from his brow to cheekbone. It should have marred his face—but somehow, it made him more magnetic.

Audrey realized she hadn’t breathed.

Daniel followed her gaze and stiffened. Just for a second. Then he smirked, covering whatever tension had flickered.

“See something you like?” he teased, though there was a hint of an edge to his voice.

Audrey flushed slightly, realizing she'd been caught staring. "Just...surprised," she murmured, tearing her eyes away from the man. "He looks...interesting."

“Interesting?” Daniel’s eyebrow rose, his voice still playful but laced with something sharp. “I bet he thinks the same about you.”

She rolled her eyes and nudged him. "Oh, please shut up."

The man passed behind her, his presence undeniable. Even without looking, she felt him. He scanned the room like he owned it. Then his eyes—those piercing eyes—met hers for just a second.

A jolt ran through her. Like a static shock. Prickling her skin. Setting her pulse racing.

There was something intense about his gaze, something that made her pulse quicken and her breath hitch. It was almost as if he was sizing her up, measuring her with those piercing blue eyes.