The hike back through the forest and to my car was long and sweaty, the cooler temperature from overnight having burned away the moment the sun peaked up over the horizon. High altitude means cooler weather in the winter and summer, but being closer to the sun means it feels as if your skin is being singed by a laser anytime the light hits it. I ditched my flannel not long after I started my hike back and even that wasn’t enough to keep me cool. My hands pluck the damp material of my t-shirt away from my body in an attempt to get some air flowing to my skin, but it doesn’t help nearly enough. Luckily after a short drive, I’m finally back to the apartment and can hop straight into the shower.

After walking through the door, I kick it closed and unceremoniously drop my hiking pack and toe off my shoes. One bonus of living alone now is that I don’t have to worry about tripping hazards for JJ or cleaning up after myself immediately in order to be a good influence on him either. The apartment feels cooler, but it’s not enough. An icy glass of water sounds good right now, but I feel so grimy and gross, the sheen of sweat on my skin making me feel sticky that I put it off. Shower first, then it will be time to rehydrate. As I peel my shirt up and over my head, I let it hit the ground with a moist plop and walk over towards the bathroom. My belt clinks as I start to unbuckle it, but movement out of the corner of my eye has me turning and screaming like a small child.

When I notice another person is in the room, my eyes widen at the sight before me. Sitting on the blue sofa is Billie, a computer tablet in her hand and a wide grin on her face. She looks every bit as beautiful as the last time I saw her, and for a moment I wonder if I am hallucinating from the heat and exertion of the hike. “Billie?” I ask incredulously. As my skin cools, I suddenly feel every bit of my half nakedness as I stare dumbly at one of the most stunningly gorgeous women I have ever seen. My hands fumble as I reach down and start to rebuckle my belt, and when my eyes meet hers once more, a slight pout forms on her full, rosy lips.

“Ah, don’t stop on my account.” Her expression is sly as the words drip from her mouth like honey. “You were just getting to the good part. Though to be fair, on you they’re all good parts.” She winks at me and I can feel my body flush, only this time it isn’t from the heat of my outdoor excursion.

“What… how…?” My tongue feels twice its normal size as I process her words. I’m fumbling and so inarticulate it’s embarrassing, but I can’t help but smile just the slightest bit at her flirting. That’s all it is, but it feels good, nonetheless. Women don’t flirt with me, or if they do, it’s not obvious enough for me to notice. Billie makes it obvious in such a way that I’m sure to never miss it, a move I appreciate. As she continues to stare at me, I feel my nipples pebble from the cold and the attention.

Moving over to where I tossed my shirt, I snag it off the floor and put it back on as quickly as possible, not caring whether or not it’s inside out or about the fact that it is still incredibly damp. My eyes move to Billie’s and if I didn’t know better, I would say there was a slight bit of disappointment shining from them. “Why are you in my apartment?” On any other occasion, I would be pleasantly surprised to see her here, but I don’t like being caught out as I’m undressing, especially not in front of a woman so completely out of my league. 

Billie tosses her tablet to the side and it hits the couch cushion with a soft thud. She stands and walks towards me, playing with the end of her long braid as her slender form sways from side to side. She’s wearing some kind of bodysuit that hugs her like a second skin. It leaves very little to the imagination, and even though I have imagined quite a bit where Billie is concerned, it seems I never even got close to conjuring up a fraction of the perfection of the real thing. She’s all lean muscle and soft curves, and my fingers twitch with the need to reach out and touch her, trace the skin along the delicate line of her neck. When she’s in front of me, her head tips up slightly to look me in the eyes. She’s close enough that I can smell roses or maybe some other flower wafting off her skin, and I’m tempted to take a deep inhale. The closeness has me wanting to simultaneously take a step back and also one forward. I’m terrified of being this close to her, but at the same time I can’t find the strength to pull away.

“I’m your new roommate.” Her rich, captivating voice washes over me and I’m so lost in the sound that her words barely register.

“What’s that now?” I ask lazily. My gaze is drifting over the olive skin of her face and landing on the milk chocolate orbs that are her eyes. Brown is sometimes thought of as drab, less notable than lighter colored eyes, but Billie’s eyes are the furthest thing from dull that you could get. The lightness near the pupil draws you in, but it’s the depth of color from the rest of the iris that holds your attention. The color of her eyes is as much a reflection of her personality as anything else. Her friendly and outgoing nature draws you in, but it’s the sense of something deeper beneath the surface that keeps you entranced.

A faint smile comes across her lips and she shakes her head at me, lightly rolling her eyes. “No one ever listens to me,” she confesses.

While her tone is teasing, I feel like there’s a deeper hurt there that I’m curious about. Why would no one listen to this amazing woman? Her hand reaches down and grabs onto mine, pulling me over to Maya’s old room. It’s a good thing she’s steering me along because my mind is spinning, stuck on the softness and warmth of her skin against mine as well as the fact that a little zing of electricity seemed to shoot up my arm the minute she touched me. My mind is so focused on the feeling that I’m liable to walk straight into a wall if she doesn’t prevent it. Finally, she stops at the doorway and I peer inside. For the last few weeks, this room has been basically empty of everything except a few hangers in the closet. Now, there is a fully decorated bedroom inside. A large bed with a pink duvet stands in the center of the room with two mismatched white nightstands topped with slender lamps acting as sentinels on either side.

Billie steps into the room, plops herself down on the bed, and smiles up at me. “What do you think? I don’t really have a ton of my own furniture, so I bought a bunch from the store and a couple of other places in town. I’m not really sure what style it is, but I’m calling it mountain chic,” she explains, leaning back on the bed.

Seeing Billie sprawled out on a large bed has my mind wandering to inappropriate places. Needing a distraction, my eyes move away from the temptation on the soft mattress in front of me to a pink chest that sits at the foot of the bed. More pink catches my eye, and I look to the side to see a matching pink dresser standing against the wall with a white tea tray on top of it. The tray itself is rather unremarkable, but two of the items that sit on top of it have my feet moving closer. Reaching out, I take a hold of one of the small wooden perfume bottles I made a few months ago. It’s small, fitting in the palm of my hand. The floral pattern I stenciled on the top looks as good as I remember. I’m no artist, so I was a little worried that I would muck that part up, but as it turns out, I did a great job.

When I face Billie, she’s biting her lower lip, her expression a mixture of guilt and embarrassment. “You’re PO Box 153?”

She winces slightly and moves from the bed, taking the bottle from me and holding it to her chest. “Yes,” she sighs. She clutches the bottle tightly a moment longer before she reverently places the item back on the tray. “I wasn’t hiding my identity on purpose. It just seemed easier to do it that way. No pressure to make something perfect for a friend.”

I chuckle slightly. “Is that what we are? Friends?” With someone like her, I would love to be so much more than that, but I know that’s impossible. The number of friends I have is few, so if she wants to be counted among them, I’m not going to stop her.

“Sure,” she says with a shrug of her shoulder. “I mean, I know we don’t know each other too well, but I’ve heard a lot about you from Jake. Between that, my light Instagram stalking, and the custom items I’ve had you make for me, I think we could consider ourselves as friends. Especially now that we’re living together.”

“Yeah, about that.” I rub the back of my neck, pulling a face when I feel the dried sweat there. With the shock of my unexpected guest, I momentarily forgot how gross I still am. “How did that come about exactly?”

Billie’s shoulders slump and she bites her lip again. “You’re not mad, are you? Maya said it would be okay.” Her looking uncertain of herself for the first time since I’ve met her throws me a bit. She sighs and sits back down on the edge of the bed, staring down at her hands before meeting my gaze once more. “I kind of got fired and lost my apartment. Jake and Maya offered their house, but they just moved in and are all ‘perfect little family,’” she says, sounding wistful. “I didn’t want to disrupt that.”

A humorless chuckle escapes as I shake my head. “I get that,” I tell her. I almost join her on the edge of the bed before I remember how dirty my clothes are and remain standing. “They invite me over for dinner all the time, but I don’t want to crash the happy family party.”

“Exactly.” A knowing smile spreads on her face before it falters slightly for a moment. “I have a ton of savings and can find something else. Living here with you just sounded like a lot more fun that living on my own, but I really don’t want to impose on you, Carter.”

Is a gorgeous woman living with me an imposition? No, because she raises the aesthetic appeal of the place tenfold and likes to have fun, but also yes because I feel out of sorts whenever she’s around. That doesn’t mean I’m going to kick her out though. “No worries,” I tell her. My hands get stuffed into my pockets before I do something silly like reach out and touch her in reassurance. The need to provide touch comfort has never been as strong with anyone as it is with her, and it’s a little disconcerting. “It will be nice to have a roommate again. After living with JJ for so long, it’s felt too quiet lately.” It won’t be too bad. My work keeps me pretty busy, and I’m sure Billie will have plenty to do. We’ll probably barely see each other.

She sighs with relief and smiles brightly at me. “Well, I’m not too loud of a person. And as a thank you for letting me stay, I’m going to help out in the shop. Give Maya more time to work on her crocheting and all that.”

My mouth opens and closes for a moment before I can form a reply. “Great,” I squeak.   My voice sounds about an octave too high, so I clear my throat. “That’s great. Well, I better clean up and then we can talk more.”

Before she can reply, I turn and beeline over to my room and grab some clean clothes before rushing into the bathroom. After I turn on the faucet, I rest my hands on the counter and stare in the mirror. My expression is shell shocked, a perfect reflection of how I feel. How am I supposed to start dating when the one woman I’ve ever been instantly attracted to, the one who throws me even more off my game that usual, is sleeping in the next room? With a sigh, I strip off my soiled clothes and step under the spray and try to give myself a little pep talk. I can do this, I just have to focus on trying to find my person and remember that Billie is firmly in the “never going to happen” box. That’s easier said than done, especially when I’ll also have to try and ignore the new and exciting feelings she stirs within me.