Chapter Text
It’s the second week of July, and it’s already been 15 days since you dropped your kids off with their grandma. After your daycare had suddenly lost funding and had to close unexpectedly with the end of the school year, your mom had offered to take the kids for the summer. You had felt guilty and tried to argue at first, but when she reminded you of all the fond memories you had from childhood summers spent with your grandparents, you had no choice but to accept her offer.
The only problem was, you had never spent more than two weeks away from the little gremlins, and with today being day 15, you were officially entering uncharted territory. Your oldest had just turned 11 last winter, so that meant what, 11 years and 7 months since you had last known a peaceful house? Hell, it’s not as if you weren’t enjoying the quiet, because you definitely were. You just weren’t quite sure what to do with all of this … freedom.
After spending years maintaining the kind of structured routine necessary to keep two elementary age kids healthy and happy, the opportunity to do whatever you want, whenever you wanted, was actually kind of stifling. You had gotten pregnant pretty much right out of high school, so you barely knew what it was to be any kind of adult outside of “Mom”, not to mention the fact that you’ve essentially been acting as a single parent for the majority of their lives (marriage to your unmentionable shitrat of an ex-husband notwithstanding).
You honestly feel like you’re going a little loopy over it, which is exactly how you come to find yourself tying up your laces and heading out your front door without a single destination in mind- at 1 o’clock in the morning on a Monday night. Despite the fact that this is completely out of character for you (when was the last time you even left your house past 10pm, high school? Damn, you’re getting old), but you feel like you need to do something, anything, just to… shake things up.
You’re turned around and pulling your front door shut behind you, when you hear a disturbance from somewhere off to your left. You freeze, and train your ears towards the sound, quickly realizing it’s coming from your next door neighbour’s apartment. It was a sort of scrabbling noise, like someone was trying to force something into the lock, followed by a man’s voice muttering a string of colourful curses. Wait, was that... Spanish?
You tense instantly, wondering what to do. You haven’t seen your neighbours at all over the last few weeks, but they left often on sporadic extended vacations, so naturally you had just expected they’d gone away unannounced again. You wouldn’t have given the noise next door another thought, assuming they had come back in off a late flight, except Jeff Lumke definitely doesn’t speak Spanish.
You groan internally. It is just your goddamn luck that the one time you try to step out of your comfort zone, you stumble onto an attempted burglary. You press your lips together, your mind racing. Should you call the police? Ugh, that feels too dramatic. Maybe you’re panicking over nothing, and this guy has a totally legitimate reason for fussing frustratedly with the door to your neighbours’ apartment in the wee hours of the morning. Did 1am count as the wee hours? You’re googling that later.
You blow out a breath, and steel yourself to walk over and around the corner, leaning forward to brace your hands on the fence in an attempt to look somewhat intimidating. God, you fucking hate confrontation.
“Hey!” You hiss, attempting to inject an edge of false confidence into your tone. “Can I help you?”
The man must have been totally focused on his efforts with the lock, because he just about jumps out of his skin when he hears your voice. He chuckles reproachfully, and reaches up to rub the back of his neck. “Shit, hey, didn’t see you there.”
You take the opportunity to look him over quickly, doing your best to mask an unexpected thrill of interest, because the potential felon is unfortunately really cute. He’s a few inches taller than average, with the kind of warm-toned skin that looks sun kissed year round, and brown wavy hair that you would love to run your fingers through. His chocolate brown eyes are framed by a healthy collection of laugh lines, and shadowed by deep bags that tell you he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. You frown, feeling an unexpected surge of concern for the stranger.
He notices that you’re not-so-subtly checking him out, and he crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps stand out in a way that you definitely don’t take notice of. Come on, was this dude made in a factory for you or what? Arms are your friggin kryptonite. You shake your head to snap yourself out of whatever temporary insanity you’ve slipped into, and narrow your eyes, lowering yourself onto your elbows to look more menacing. You hope.
“It looks like you’re trying pretty hard to commit a felony over there.” You say, continuing to glare at him.
“Pardon?” His brow crinkles, and he purses his lips a tiny bit in confusion. You groan inwardly. Why the fuck is that expression so cute? You give yourself a mental slap on the wrist for being attracted to someone who may just be a criminal. Okay, maybe it’s been a while since you’ve gotten some, but your taste hasn’t sunk that low, surely?
Putting your traitorous thoughts aside, you raise an eyebrow and flick your eyes pointedly at the locked door before meeting his gaze accusingly. “Uh, you’re attempting to break into my neighbours’ apartment?”
He stares blankly at you for a moment, before recognition suddenly dawns on him and he throws his head back and laughs, a genuine belly laugh. You think you hear him wheeze the words “fuckin burglar” as his laughter slowly dies down into breathless giggles while you continue to glare, unimpressed.
“Okay look,” he says, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. “This is a big misunderstanding.” He leans his shoulder against the door and despite his tired expression, he manages to look way too relaxed for someone who has just been accused of illicit activity.
“I’m listening.” You say, regarding him coolly.
“Well, apparently I need to get a new realtor, because this one must’ve given me the wrong fucking key.”
He blows out a frustrated breath.
“I apologize if this situation looks at all suspicious, but I assure you I am not breaking into anything. I just got off a long flight, I’ve been working out of the country for the last 6 months, I am burnt out as fuck, and I really just wanted to climb into the unfamiliar bed in my new and equally unfamiliar apartment, and sleep for a week.”
He raises his eyes to meet yours, and damned if he doesn’t look like a 40-something year old puppy.
You clear your throat awkwardly. “Well now I just look like an asshole.” You’re scraping your toe against the concrete, too guilty to look up again and meet his eyes. “I didn’t even realize Jeff and Nancy had moved out. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m sorry as well for the poor first impression. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to try calling my Realtor again before I give up and sleep on the patio.”
Out of the corner of your vision, you can see his wan smile, and you bite your lip. You feel awful for grilling the poor dude. He turns back to the door again, and now that you're not so distracted by his appearance, you take note of the nondescript set of keys in his hand. It's at that moment that you see something he’s clearly too sleep-deprived to have noticed: he’s trying to open the front door using his storage locker key.
You try to smother your giggle, but he turns back to look at you, and you suck your lip between your teeth, gesturing to the key in his hand. “That’s uh… that’s the storage key.”
He turns the key over in his hand, shuffling it on the ring so he can examine the other (they’re actually nearly identical, and it’s pitch dark without the porch light on, so you can’t blame him), before he lets out a low laugh. Your skin tingles at the sound. “Well, I’ll be damned. Thank you, you’ve just saved my night.”
As he turns away from you again, you can’t help but feel a twinge of nosiness. You decide you’ve already more-or-less fucked your first impression, so you might as well give in to it before he heads inside and you lose the opportunity.
“Hey, what the hell do you do for work that’s got you so worn out?”
He blinks, and gives you a bit of an incredulous look, but he quickly recovers and slides a charming grin into place, slipping a hand onto his hip. Damn, this stranger exudes charisma.
“Actually, I think I’ll hang onto what mystique I have for as long as I can, if you don’t mind.”
He winks, actually WINKS at you, and your traitorous heart gives a little flutter kick. What the hell? Are you actually attracted to someone who only five minutes earlier you had thought was a burglar? Probably something you should bring up in therapy. You’re gonna schedule a nice long appointment with Jenny in the morning.
You lean back on the railing, letting go and allowing the momentum to carry you a step back towards your door, and raising your hands in a supplicating gesture. “Alright mystery man, you can keep your secrets to yourself. If you need space, I promise I won’t pry.”
Your next words practically fall off your lips before your brain has had a chance to vet them.
“But if you’re ever bored, I’d be happy to make up for almost biting your head off with a drink sometime. You know, since we’re neighbours now.”
And then you wink back at him. What the fuck, you wink now?
You blanch internally and wonder what the hell is going on with you. You haven’t been this forward with anyone in… probably fucking ever. Does this dude have beer-flavoured nipples or something? Get a GRIP! You clench your hands into fists to mitigate the sudden flood of panic that your weak attempts at flirtation have brought on, ready to turn on your heel and flee before your enflamed cheeks give you away like fucking Rudolph despite the dark night.
To your surprise, his smile tilts up at one side, and he gives you a nod as he says softly “I might just take you up on that.”
Then he tries the door one last time, and now that he has the correct key the lock turns easily, so he steps into the apartment and closes the door behind him. Just in time to miss you suddenly going boneless from the overwhelming embarrassment of the encounter, and crumpling into your deck chair.