50 Shades of Hemmings (Part 1&2)

20

Allison met me at the door looking as polished as she had before in a colourful sundress.
"Congrats!" She smiled and gave me a quick hug.
"Thank you for finding me such an amazing place."
"Anytime."
When she glanced over at the SUV that had delivered me, her smile faded a bit. Brad stepped out and joined me on the sidewalk in front of the building. Brad was a friend of a friend. I didn't know him really well, but he was nice enough and clearly he spent some time in the gym, so I didn't feel too bad asking him to move my futon up a flight of stairs to the new place.
He did so with expert grace, leaving the immaculate walls of the stairwell unscathed. Allison seemed nervous when she handed me the keys to open the door. After I did, Brad passed through the threshold toward the room that would be my bedroom. Before I could follow him in, someone came down the stairs.
Oh, a neighbor! I though excitedly, until Luke Fucking Hemmings turned the corner and faced me with a heart-melting smile.
"What are you doing here?" The tone of my voice revealed more panic than I wanted it to. I'd just gone through three regretful days believing I'd be rid of him for good, while simultaneously questioning why I had permanently sworn off the best sex of my life.
"I live here."
I shifted my glare to Allison who visibly cringed, revealing that she was in on this the entire time.
"Sorry," she mouthed before turning to leave us.
"You live here." It wasn't a question, but more of a confirmation of the worst-case scenario.
"Well, actually I own the building, but yeah, I live here too."
I crossed my arms and my foot started tapping, a telltale sign I was about to flip out. How could I best articulate the absolute rage I felt toward this excruciatingly sexy man who could not keep himself from interfering with my affairs?
"You look angry. What can I do?"
He had the decency to look a little tentative, which was wise because I was considering physical violence to make my point. Words were wasted on him.
"For starters, you can stop meddling in my damn life, Luke!" I poked my finger into his rock hard pectorals. "What makes you think you can swoop in here and conveniently plane me in your downstairs apartment and think that's totally fucking normal?"
"For a Harvard girl, you've got quiet the potty mouth."
"Cut the shit, Luke."
"Did you really want to live in one of those fleabag apartments?"
"You are completely missing the point."
Exasperated, I turned into the apartment and slammed the door behind me. He followed me in, coming face to face with Brad, who looked surprised to say the least. Luke was leaner and generally less beefy, but he had some height on Brad. Luke's wide-eyed gaze narrowed at the sight of him, and his hands fisted at his sides.
"Uh, hey?" Brad looked uncomfortable.
I rushed to my purse, grabbed my wallet, and pulled out the fifty bucks I owed him. "Thanks so much, Brad. I think we're good. Just throw the rest of my bags in the lobby, and I can bring them up."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," Luke and I said in unison.
I'd likely never see Brad again, but I was still embarrassed by the situation.
He did give me a brilliant idea though.