🌷Anastasia🌷
I grab my purse and keys, ready to head out for a shift at the hospital. It's another sweltering day and my Donald Duck scrubs are not taking the high temperatures into consideration. I've barely made it out my front door and I'm already overheated. Thankfully, my ankle touches something cool and when I look down, I find a bottle of milk on my doorstep. I guess Freddie spoke to Dan about getting me on the milk list.
I'll have to thank him later.
I plan to shove it in my fridge when I sneak a peek at Freddie's front door. His milk is still on his doorstep and—without intending it to—a cunning plan formulates. I quickly snatch his milk and shove it in my fridge to keep cool. I then scribble a note on a piece of paper, reading it through once done.
If you want your milk
back, come to number
eight at 6PM with an apology.
Ax
I feel strangely giddy as I push the note through Freddie's letterbox. I haven't done anything this fun in years—and by fun, I mean stealing someone's milk for ransom. I wish I could be there to see his face when he reads the note, but I'm happy going off my imagination. I suspect he'll laugh, but that's before realising he has no milk left for his morning coffee. I have a feeling Freddie is a coffee drinker and that's what makes this plan all the better. Still, he deserves it after keeping me up all night.
"You look happy," states Kimberly, another nurse.
She joins me in the elevator, no doubt heading to the break room. The John Radcliffe hospital is three floors high and has conveniently placed its staff area as far away as possible. Sometimes, by the time I finally get there, break is over.
"Just happy to see you, of course."
She rolls her eyes and nudges my hip.
"How the new place?"
Kimberly is the only one who knows the truth behind why I had to move home so quickly.
"Great. It has a milk service."
She frowns. "That's random."
"And useful," I insist.
She smiles, checking her Apple watch. "If you say so."
"How was night shift?" I ask, catching myself up.
"Busy."
Saturday night—I expect nothing less.
"A&E was manic. Amy got puked on."
I screw my face in disgust. "Is she okay?"
"Traumatised."
I laugh. Amy is the type who takes pride in her appearance and to her, the thought of being puked on is barbaric.
The elevator arrives on the third floor and—as though summoned—Amy appears.
"Ana!"
"Hey."
"Did you hear?"
I nod.
"Fucking outrageous. I'm quitting!"
I slap her on the arse. "Yeah, yeah!"
"You're lucky it wasn't shit," intervenes Kimberly, straight faced.
She and I went to university together, and I remember back then it was her bluntness that drew me to her. She's the most gorgeous person I know, inside and out, but boy can she handle herself. Mess with Kimberly and it's the last thing you'll do. I'll be honest, I'm surprised Josh is still walking after I told her everything.
"Has that actually happened to you?" asks Amy, horrified.
Kimberly nods. "Oh, yeah. Multiple times."
Amy only qualified earlier this year and is still learning the ropes. She's dedicated though, and a fucking fantastic asset.
"You off home?" I ask.
"Yeah."
"SLEEP!" orders Kimberly
"Please," replies Amy. "I need at least five showers before I can sleep."
Kimberly and I laugh the entire time we walk to the break room, amused.
"You're definitely much happier today," she says. "I've not seen you laugh this much in a long time."
I smile.
"It's suits you, Ana."
"What does?"
"Happiness."
Kimberly knows all about the effects of an abusive relationship. Her dad used to beat her mum before the pair of them got out. After that, it was only the two of them, and it wasn't easy. Still, Sasha—her mum—did everything she could for her daughter and Kimberly is now a testament to her. They look similar too. Same brunette hair and dark skin. They even share eye colours and more often than not get mistaken for sisters.
"Thanks," I say, feeling awkward accepting any kind of compliment.
Luckily, Kimberly doesn't push it and soon after, leaves me to get sorted for my shift. I love working at the hospital. For the longest time, this place was my safe haven. My escape. It's perhaps the only thing left in my life that still brings me joy. And for that reason, I cling onto it. My therapist doesn't think it's healthy. She encourages me to find other hobbies outside of work, but nothing else interests me. Maybe all that is about to change? Maybe Freddie can be my new hobby?
***
I just finish wrapping the towel around myself when there's a knock at my front door and I abandon my place in the bathroom. I'm expecting a delivery and I don't want to miss it. My hair is still dripping and the white towel I purchased from Home Sense last week barely reaches my thigh. Still, I proceed because I ordered a coffee machine and I'm determined to set it up and gain joy from doing so. I rang the store after work and paid extra to have it delivered straight to my door. My therapist recommends I do one thing a day that reminds me of my old self.
Today, I choose coffee.
"Just a minute!" I announce, fiddling with the lock.
I finally manage to relieve the catch and swing open the door. In my haste to see my new coffee machine, the towel I'm wearing gets caught on the handle and unknots itself. Slowly, I watch in horror as it leaves my body and lands in a heap by my feet.
Fuckkkkkkk!
"Do you answer the door like this to everyone?" asks Freddie, holding a large box of pizza and a bottle of wine.
I quickly close the door in his face.
"Anastasia—"
I grab my towel and reposition it around my body, making sure to secure it a lot tighter this time.
"Anastasia!"
He bangs on my door in desperation.
"Ana—"
I open the door again, finding him stood with one arm suspended mid-air, as though moments away from knocking again, and the other covering his eyes.
"You can look," I inform.
He slowly peels his fingers away and upon seeing my towel, launches headfirst into an apology. "Oh, god! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I didn't—Why are you laughing?"
I can't help it.
"Anastasia, why are you laughing?"
"Because" I begin, unable to hold my amusement in any longer. "My therapist told me it could take years before I'm ready to get naked in front of another man."
He cringes.
"And I just unintentionally did it in less than a month."
He stares at me a moment before joining me in laughter. It feels insane to be giggling over something that—I'll be honest—I've been dreading for quite some time now. I have a habit of building things up in my head beforehand, which only ever seems to succeed in making things ten times worse. Freddie—and his pizza—just obliterated that in less than five seconds. And I know it's not the same. Having someone see you naked by accident and see you naked in a sexual light are two completely different situations. But it's a step in the right direction.
"Are those for us?" I question, pointing to the items he left behind in his rush to make sure I was alright.
"Yes," he replies, retrieving them. "Your ransom."
I accept the wine, and gesture for him to follow me into the kitchen with the pizza.
"I don't have wine glasses yet," I explain, opening up a cupboard door. "But I do have fancy coffee mugs."
For a machine that hasn't arrived yet!
"Wine in a mug tastes better anyway," he insists, smirking. "Plates?"
"None of those either," I reply.
He locates my kitchen roll and tears off two pieces. "Never mind. We're adapting."
I have a feeling he means that in more ways than one, but I don't question him.
"Cheers," I say, handing him a mug.
"To becoming neighbours," he adds, clinking his wine with mine.
I take a sip, enjoying the fruity taste. I don't usually drink red wine but today is all about throwing caution to the wind. I figure if I can flash my hot neighbour, I can at least drink the wine he brought around for milk ransom.
"Do you like it here?" he questions, gaze travelling around the room.
I imagine it's practically empty in comparison to his and immediately feel embarrassed.
"Yeah. The walls are a bit thin, though."
His smirk is the cheekiest thing to have ever graced this earth.
"Do you?" I ask.
He shrugs. "I suppose so."
His response is a little vague, but I don't feel confident enough to press for more information. Freddie is self-assured. Cheeky. But every now and then, he'll show bursts of vulnerability and I'm desperate to dig deeper.
"Oh, I forgot to ask..." I begin, placing my mug on the kitchen counter. "How's James doing?"
At the mention of his brother, Freddie beams. "Great. He got engaged a few months ago."
"Well, I'm not surprised," I admit. "I don't think I've ever met a couple more in love than those two."
His fiancé—Sloan, I think—hardly slept the entire time he was comatose.
"Yeah, they're pretty damn solid," he agrees.
We're silent for a moment, both of us lost in thought.
"Do you think that kind of love exists for everyone?" I ask. "Or are we the unlucky ones?"
I have no idea what Freddie's romantic life is like—other than extremely loud sex—but I have a feeling he's been stung in the past.
"I think we're the unlucky ones," he reveals, cynically. "But that's fine. It has its perks."
"Like what?" I ask, laughing.
"Like being flashed by your neighbour and drinking wine out of coffee cups."
I throw my head back and giggle. "Well, if that's the case, I think we're the lucky ones."
"I know I am," he insists, eyes widening.
"Meaning?" I ask.
"Meaning, you have a spectacular body, Anastasia."
Oh no.
The room feels changed again.
"You can't say stuff like that to me," I respond, still giggling.
"Why not?"
I don't practically want to tell him the truth. That I can't gracefully accept his compliment because I spent years believing I was ugly. I also don't want to give Freddie the wrong impression. I'm nowhere near ready to dive into another relationship. In fact, I'm not sure I ever will be.
"You just can't," I reply.
Thankfully, he seems to understand. "Sorry, did I say spectacular? I meant hideous. You have a disgusting body, Anastasia. So disgusting in fact, I might need to go home and take a cold shower."
I throw a piece of pizza crust at his head.
"That better?"
"Much," I say, happily sipping on my wine.
He follows suit and takes a big gulp. "Ya know, I flirt with you quite a lot. It doesn't have to mean anything."
I quirk a brow.
"Sometimes, it's just nice for two adults to engage in some harmless chitchat that makes them feel good about themselves?"
I suppose he has a point.
"Is that what the other night was?" I ask.
He swallows his mouthful before speaking. "What? With Lauren?"
"Oh, she has a name?" I tease.
He smiles, and I swear I detect a small cheek dimple.
"We're friends," he insists.
"Do you sleep with all your friends?" I question, nibbling on a piece of pepperoni.
I take this opportunity to study him and notice he's wearing grey sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt. It's practically a second skin to him, moulding his torso perfectly. His arms are thick with muscles, and I smell the intoxicating combination of sandalwood and peppermint. He's not wearing his glasses and I can only assume that means he wears contacts throughout the day.
"No, I don't," he answers, leaning back against my kitchen counter.
The material on his shirt stretches and I have to try really hard not to stare.
"Are you still friends?"
I don't worry that my interrogation is coming across as pushy or possessive. I'm just curious and I think Freddie knows that.
"We'll always be friends, but we're not friends with benefits anymore. She's travelling around Europe for a while."
Oh—good for Lauren!
"And do you have any other friends to have adult chit chat with while she's gone?"
He smiles. "Anastasia—"
"Yeah?"
Oh no—was I too much?
"You ask a lot of questions."
"You intrigue me," I admit, making a start on my second slice of pizza.
This appears to please him. "No, I don't have any other friends."
"Good," I reply.
He immediately quirks a brow.
"For sleep purposes, of course."
"Of course," he agrees.
"Afterall, I'm going to need my beauty sleep. Apparently, I'm hideous."
"Who said that?" he asks, feigning outrage.
I decide to humour him and deliver some of this adult chit chat he speaks so fondly of.
"Oh, no one," I say, deliberately taking a long, slow sip of my drink. "Just my hot, new neighbour."
✨✨✨✨
Hello, lovely! 💕
WE HAVE FLIRTING. I REPEAT, WE HAVE FLIRTING!!
The sexual tension is cooking up nicely and I bet you can't wait to read what Freddie's thoughts are! 😉 Click the button below to get inside his head!
Psst. Chapter FOUR is where I'm bringing the tea! ☕️
Speak soon,
Rebecca xo