Page 1 of Grace's Daddy

Chapter One

“Shit,” I mutter as I drop every single piece of my mail on the floor. The envelopes don’t land in a simple pile either. No. That would be too easy. They scatter all over and slide in ten directions. Yes, ten.

“Fuck…” I palm my forehead as I watch one of the letters slip under the door of my neighbor across the hall. It happens seemingly in slow motion. And how is that even possible?

Now I’m going to have to knock on the door, and the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life is going to have to open it to hand me my mail. I can’t face him. No way. I’ve never even looked him in the eye. He’s far too handsome for me. When I see him, I turn the other direction. He makes me nervous and tongue-tied.

It’s not like he’s rude or anything. The man is very nice to me every time I’ve been near him. Well, three times. I’ve only actually been in his presence—that he knew of—three times.

I stand in the hallway, juggling my purse and my water bottle. The strap of my purse slid down from my shoulder to my elbow, which is what caused me to end up dropping all of my mail. Of course it would help if I would stop at my mailbox downstairs more often than I do. The pile wouldn’t have been so huge and unmanageable.

Do I knock on his door now? Maybe later would be better. I don’t even know if he’s home. I see him sporadically. It seems like he only lives there half the time. That makes no sense. Where would he be the other half the time?

Who am I kidding? I know for a fact he’s only there two weeks and then gone two weeks. I know this because I can hear every time he comes and goes from his apartment. He leaves for work at eight-fifteen and returns at six. On weekends he comes and goes with grocery bags and takeout. And then poof. Suddenly he’s not there for two weeks.

I’m nosey. Plus, I’m usually home, so I’m aware of his hours.

Really it’s that he’s smoking hot, and I like to look at him through my peephole because who wouldn’t?

I chew on my bottom lip. How long have I been standing here? If he were out of town this week, I’d be out of luck. I wouldn’t be able to retrieve my piece of mail until he got back home. But he’s in town. He got here yesterday. But who’s keeping track?

He’s probably in there. It’s seven in the evening. But the thought of facing him and talking to him makes my skin clammy. Sheesh. I need to grow up and be an adult. Something I suck at.

I’m too introverted to make small talk with people. I never make eye contact with anyone unless I absolutely have to, and the only reason I’ve spoken to this man three times is because he instigated.

Eli. That’s his name. Eli Spellman. I know because he introduced himself to me the first time we both stepped into the hallway at the same moment. I’m pretty sure I made a complete fool out of myself that day. I mean the man is a god, so all I could do was stare at him and blink.

That was six months ago. He’s been living across the hall from me for half a year, and I’m too shy to talk to him. Not that it matters. What would he want with me anyway? I’m twenty-five.He’s probably about forty. He’s fit and sexy and so many other things.

I’ve never seen a woman arrive or leave, so I know he lives alone, but I’ve also never seen anyone come for a date or slink out in the morning.

Suddenly his door opens, and he’s standing before me.

I gasp and lower my arms, dropping both my purse and my water bottle on the floor. My face heats two hundred degrees.

Eli is smiling and holding my piece of mail. He glances at the floor and then back up at me. “Ah. I couldn’t figure out why this slid under my door. I guess you dropped it. Either that or you thought I needed a pizza coupon.” His voice is teasing. Also deep.

I want to fall through a crack in the floor. So the piece that slid under his door was junk mail… Could I be any more mortified? I hadn’t seen what specifically got away from me. It could have been a bill.

I start trembling. My mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

“Let me help you,” he says before bending down to gather the dozen or so pieces of mail that have scattered for several feet in every direction.

I’m rooted to my spot, unable to form sentences. He must think I’m a dolt. He wouldn’t be wrong. Not when it comes to dealing with other humans. I’m not stupid. I’m intelligent. But I don’t people well.

I finally spring into action and squat down to pick up my purse. He already has all of my mail and my water bottle in his hands.

“It’s pretty good, though. If you haven’t tried it, you should.”

“Uhhh…” I finally utter that one syllable. I have no idea what he’s talking about.

He chuckles and holds out the pizza coupon. “Stephanos. Their pizza is good. Have you ever had it?”

I shake my head.

“Is that why you passed the coupon on to me, then?” he teases, his eyes dancing.

A giggle escapes my mouth, mortifying me. I can’t help it. He’s funny. But I feel even goofier now. I cover my mouth with my hand, nearly dropping my purse once again in the process.