‘But where did the dishy men come in?’
‘Man,’ she corrected. ‘There was a dishy man.’ For the first time since this morning, when she’d nearly got caught ogling, Mia allowed her gaze to drift over to the flat opposite her. And her jaw dropped open. ‘Whoa, what on earth?’
‘Err, Elle calling Mia. What’s happening up there?’
Mia shook her head, but when she stared back at Luke’s flat again, the sheet of paper was still there in the window.
One simple word:
Hi
It couldn’t be meant for her. Could it?
‘Mia? Do I need to call 999?’
‘What? No.’ Heart racing, she stared at the message. It probably wasn’t for her. Luke was clearly well known round here. He could be saying hi to anyone. And God, since when did she attract men like him? Flashy, good-looking men? He asked for your number. Her palms felt sweaty, her heart loud in her ears. So what if it was for her? He’s a player.
She paused to take a breath.
‘Mia, will you tell me what the pissing hell is going on before I get really fucking angry, really sodding worried or both.’
Ouch. Elle didn’t often swear, but when she did, it wasn’t pretty. ‘Sorry sis.’ She drew in another breath, organised her thoughts. ‘The dishy man I mentioned was the bar owner. He chatted to me, like bartenders do, and he sort of flirted a bit and I was sort of interested for a bit. Then I found out he was sleeping with or had slept with half the women in the bar – slight exaggeration, but you see where I’m coming from. So I said no to his offer to meet up.’
‘Holy shit, give me a minute to work that through, it’s a lot to digest.’ Mia imagined Elle shifting on the sofa, rubbing her hands across the hugely swollen belly that was keeping Mia’s nephew safe until he decided to pop out.
‘While you’re digesting that, the reason I went radio silent on you was because I’ve just noticed a sign in his window saying “Hi”.’
‘Err, you know where he lives?’
Ah. ‘Yes, kind of, because it’s the flat directly opposite mine.’
‘You’ve been spying on him?’
‘No, of course not, that would be all sorts of wrong.’ Guiltily she remembered spending one sad evening looking at binoculars online. She hadn’t bought a pair though, that was the important part. ‘But if he decides to work out slap bang in front of the window, people are going to see and, well, watch.’
‘By people, you mean you.’
She guessed, given he lived directly opposite, she probably was the only one with such a clear view. ‘Okay, yes, me.’
Elle’s voice went quiet. ‘How big are his muscles? Are we talking just starting out, or Dwayne Johnson?’
‘Why are you whispering? Is Dave around?’ Dave was Elle’s saint of a husband.
‘What, no? I don’t want The Wriggler to hear me asking about a man who isn’t his dad.’
Mia snorted with laughter. ‘I thought he was Turnip?’
‘God, you’re so out of date. That was week seventeen. After that we went through Pepper, Mango and Cauliflower. By the time we got to Cabbage, Dave said he’d had enough and nicknamed him The Wriggler.’
‘For which I’m sure my nephew will be eternally grateful.’
‘All of which is a distraction from my original question about the size of the muscles on the dishy bar owner who lives opposite you.’
Mia bit into her lip as she thought. ‘I guess, if we’re going with your food analogy, we’re talking melons for his biceps.’
‘Melons? Wow, honeydew, or watermelon, or—?’
‘Stop! God, Elle, maternity leave is clearly making you even more bonkers than usual.’
Her sister sighed. ‘Okay, yes, good point. I shall stop thinking of my sister’s hot neighbour. But I will ask if you’re going to reply to the sign.’
‘It’s probably not for me.’ Men like Luke, cocky and good-looking, didn’t go for geek girls, she reminded herself. She attracted the shier, solid guys, who then turned out to be flakier than a Danish pastry.
‘You’ve just said your flat is dead opposite his,’ Elle protested. ‘And presumably this is the first time he’s put up a sign since you moved in, or you’d have noticed. Quite a coincidence that, you meeting him, him wanting to take you out, and now a message popping up in the window that looks directly into yours.’
Crap, maybe he had seen her.
‘Sounds like he’s trying to attract your attention.’ Elle’s voice took on that sort of excited hush again. ‘Just think of it, Mia. Running your hands over all those straining muscles.’
Mia burst into laughter. ‘Err, hello pregnancy libido. I think it’s time you made yourself a chamomile tea and went to lie down. And I did some more work.’
‘So you haven’t thought about sex with the hot guy opposite?’
Nope, she wasn’t getting suckered into answering that one. ‘Bye Elle, talk to you later in the week.’
Mia put down her phone and stared back at the sign.
Then she shook her head and pulled down her blind.
The kick of disappointment he’d felt on Saturday night when Mia had turned down his offer to meet for a coffee had rolled through Luke again on Sunday when, despite his constant checking, she’d not walked through the door of the bar. He’d had to acknowledge it was possible his chance of seeing her again had all but disappeared.
But then this morning, when he’d been lifting weights and looking out of the window, which he did because lifting on his own at home was boring as shit, he’d spotted a flash of green hair opposite him.
No mistaking that hair, that face. The fact she’d still, as far as he could see, got her dressing gown on.
So he’d shifted even closer so she could see him, and he could see her. And yes, he’d flexed, pumped his muscles harder than usual. Some girls dug a guy who worked out, others preferred lean. As he had no hope of being the latter, he had to make the most of what he had, and hope Mia liked it.
Had she watched? He wasn’t sure. After that initial glance at her, she’d disappeared into the shadows.
Still, not being the sort to give up, before he’d left for work he’d scribbled a quick Hi on a sheet of paper.
Then he’d stuck it to the window with Blu Tack and gone off to the bar feeling mildly hopeful.
Falsely hopeful, it turned out, as there’d been no reply in Mia’s window when he’d come back last night.
Worse, she’d pulled down the blind.
He supposed that could be construed as a big f-off sign in itself.
Of course, there was a chance the blinds were down because it was too sunny. Also a chance she hadn’t replied as she didn’t realise the message was intended for her, though he couldn’t believe a smart woman like Mia wouldn’t have connected the dots.
‘What do you reckon, Pickles?’ He bent to give the creature a scratch behind her long floppy ears. ‘If she pulls the blind up at ten, that has to mean she’s interested, yes?’
Pickles twitched her nose and stared back at him. A brown and white lop-eared dwarf, she had the run of the flat and was the only girl he’d ever lived with. Maybe that was how his life was destined to be. And hell, it wasn’t a bad life. Pickles was easy, undemanding company and helped with the occasional loneliness he felt coming back to an empty flat. Even if it did mean he had to clean out her poo tray. For adult conversation, he had the punters at the bar, and for those times he wanted to unwind in the arms of a willing woman, well, he had numbers on his phone he could call; women who were happy to see him, no strings asked for or given.