Virgin Lips

2. Hello, Mr. Sexy

Lucky thing my boss decided to be kind and close the diner from 31st to 2nd January, so I could relax a little. This morning Faith and Hope called me from Aspen, asking if I wanted to join them, I was still in time, they said. I'm supposed to go back to work tomorrow, I argued, so they asked if I could plead with my boss to have a few days of vacation. I snorted. Just that.

Scott would laugh in my face if I asked even half an hour off, imagine a few days. He's closing the diner these days only because his mom forced him to, he's visiting her in Alabama.

I spent the first day of New Year just being lazy. My perfect kind of day is very simple: just me, food, books and movies/TV shows, plus now Reese and Shaw keeping me company. Although, yesterday I had a Person of Interest marathon, so my cats are learning about their homonymous.

Weirdly enough, this morning I woke up in a good mood. Well, aimlessly scanning through job offers wasn't exactly joyful, but 2 days away from Scott always do wonders. The only glitch in this perfect day were the noises I heard all morning in the hall. Not sure what was it, neither did I care to inquire, but they were too loud for my tastes.

Taking advantage of today being Tuesday, therefore normally no one's laundry day, I decided I'd do mine. I figured I'd do my business without anybody around ... I was wrong.

The moment I set foot in there, I spotted a guy fumbling with one of the washing machines, seemingly trying to understand how it works. I could only see his back, so all I could tell was that he was .

Being the socially awkward klutz I am, I felt the strong urge to turn on my heels and come back later, but that would have been really childish, right? So I settled for heading to the machine that was farthest from him, highly hoping he'd be too focused on figuring out its functioning to notice me.

As silently as I could, I placed the basket with my things on the ground and opened the washing machine. I learnt to be silent long ago, enough to be invisible, so it was easy to pass by unnoticed.

However, I forgot one detail ... washing machines aren't amidst the most silent creations of the human mind. I was ready to grab my basket, and leave, but the damn thing gave me away.

"Hey, there. Don't flee. Please. Care to give me a hand here? I'm kinda hopeless." The guy said while I already had a foot outside the room.

Part of me wanted to smile at his cuteness, the other ... the other was pointing out that he sounded handsome. I mean, his voice was kinda sexy, and it's never a great idea to have anything to do with men like those. Then again, he just needed help with a damn washing machine, he'll forget me as soon as I'm out of this place and ... well, indulging in eye candy sometimes doesn't hurt, does it?

So I turned around slowly, and tried to do my best to smile, poorly succeeding ... opposite to Mr. Stranger, who exposed for me his pearly white teeth, my ovaries already screaming in delight. His light brown hair I'd noticed earlier was a perfect frame to an amazing pair of light brown eyes. He was handsome, yet commonly handsome. Not the, is he even real type, but definitely not the kind I see regularly in my life.

I realized I looked like a twig, with my slightly open mouth, kind of drooling over him already, when he grinned but kindly avoided to point out my pathetic stunt. He grazed the back of his neck, messing his already tousled hair, and asked me to give him a hand to make the washing machine work.

Gulping down my shyness, I walked up to him and, having given him a half, well, more like a quarter smile, I started fumbling with the machine. I thought I'd quickly just start it for him, then I'd be free, but no ... the guy came closer, making me more nervous ... have I mentioned that handsome faces make me very, very nervous? Well, they do. Really.

"Hey, wait, could you ... explain what you do? Please? I know I'll sound like a dummy but really I can't wrap my head around it."

I didn't even have the courage to let him hear my voice. Better said, words were stuck in my throat and I couldn't make myself talk. Yet I had to, be it only to explain to him how the washing machine works. Normally I don't talk much, but I can manage to say a few words, yet now ...

After having inhaled deeply, I hope silently enough not to let him notice, I started talking lowly. Maybe too lowly, because he came closer, claiming he couldn't hear me, given the noise the other machines were making.

My heart started racing, and I probably started sweating and blushing, especially when he came so close that I could feel his hot breath against my neck as he was watching me fumble with the machine while explaining what I did. I just hope my voice didn't quiver.

I'd talked so fast that I was done in a minute, but it felt like eternity, because his hot breath against my neck had me close to hyperventilating. Once I was done, I moved abruptly ... bad idea. Like a perfect klutz, I ended up bumping into him, who grabbed my hips to keep me in place, smiling gently as he asked if I was ok.

Nervously, I nodded and slipped away from his grip, my heart already doing somersaults. As red as a tomato and stumbling a little, I dashed out of the room, not even saying goodbye, my heart racing faster than a Ferrari while I sprinted to the elevator, but I'd obviously forgotten it was broken, so I had to resort to climbing the stairs. I felt like a murderer fleeing the crime scene.

Once I'd reached the second row of stairs, I paused, taking a deep breath, and slowed down, chastising myself for being so silly. It's not like he was running after me with a chainsaw.

Jeez, girl, hold your horses. The guy's probably just there laughing at you, maybe already texted his friends to tell them about this weird chick he just met.

I took a deep breath, and restarted walking, this time calmly, climbing the stairs till I reached the fourth floor, more than a bit wheezing, seeing as I'm not exactly in a great shape and not used to exercising, but I made it.

Behind my door I could already hear Reese and Shaw scratching, as they always do when they hear I'm about to enter, almost as a manner of greeting.

Putting the key into its hole, I heaved a big sigh, discomforted at the thought of the very poor impression I just made, highly hoping not to see the guy again.

"Hey, uh ... you forgot your basket in the laundry." The same voice as earlier mentioned just as I thought I was lucky. Karma, huh? When I turned around, I saw my blue laundry basket in his hands. Nervously, I waited until he was close, and I thanked him, omitting to inform him I'd left it there purposely, so that if someone else arrives before me when the machine is done, they'll put my clothes in the basket and won't dirty them by leaning them on the washing machine or worse, on the ground.

Pretty Face decided to make my coronaries explode, though, because I'd only cracked open my door that he leaned against the doorframe, giving me a sexy smile as he grabbed my arm to stop me: "Hey, wait, I didn't say thank you for helping me." I remained staring at his hand on my arm for a bit, and he noticed that, but didn't pull back, actually, he took one step closer. "I'm Ben."

He stretched his hand for me to shake it, so I nervously did, praying to whatever God for it not to be sweaty, and nervously muttered: "Joanna."

He gave me a wide smile as he squeezed my hand in his, making my heart race only faster. "Nice to meet you, JoJo. Unfortunately for you you're gonna see me often. I'm your new neighbor."

So much for being an island. Now I've got Mr. Sexy living right next door. Yay.