Page 3 of Unexpectedly You (Boston Boys Bozok #1)

Chapter Three

Bentley

So, how’s it going? Peyton texts a few days later as I sit in the coffee shop and google apartments in my area.

On top of having my girlfriend cheat on me, I also need to find a new place to rent since the lease on my place is up in a couple of weeks, and I’m hoping to find something a bit closer to work, and ideally a bit nicer.

Fine , I reply. I have a couple of places lined up to go look at.

What does it say about us that we work together and spend almost all of our free time together, and when we’re not together we’re texting each other? she asks .

I think it says we’re codependent best friends who probably need therapy.

We’d probably do that together, too, she replies, and I laugh.

So, from one codependent friend to another, how off the table is the hottie from the bar?

Seriously?

Ugh. He’s so cute, though. Lip biting emoji .

I reply with an eye rolling emoji, and she responds with a laughing emoji.

I glance up just as the door to the coffee shop opens only to nearly shit myself when I see him again!

What the actual fuck? Is he following me?

Why am I running into him everywhere now?

He’s got a dark peacoat on and his raven hair has snowflakes in it.

I watch as he brushes his hand over his hair and stomps his boots on the floor to get rid of the snow.

“Shit,” I whisper when his gaze lands on my spot near the back corner, and I duck, trying to hide underneath the table.

When I peek back up he’s in line and looking at the menu behind the counter, so I quickly close my laptop and shove it in my bag, then stand and shrug my coat on, before grabbing my coffee cup and holding it in front of my face as I make my way to the door.

I’m stopped abruptly when I slam into someone, courtesy of staring at the floor while I walk instead of actually watching where I’m going, and my coffee cup flies out of my hand. I hear a startled “Shit!” as the remaining coffee splatters all over the front of What’s His Name.

Fuck! I’m so flustered and absolutely mortified that I don’t even stop to help him. I just rush out of the damn coffee shop like my pants are on fire.

“God, if you love me you will never ever let me see that man again,” I groan as I sit in my car, banging my head on the steering wheel and wondering if it would be less painful to just drive off a cliff and get it over with, because this slow death by humiliation is just not for me.

Alex

A week later I’m chuckling as I dump a load of laundry into the washing machine, remembering the incident at the coffee shop.

I probably deserved what happened, honestly.

I definitely wasn’t expecting to get lukewarm coffee all over my nice clothes, though.

But after seeing Bentley through the huge window I couldn’t help going inside just to see what he would do when he saw me.

Fuck, I don’t even drink coffee. Him ducking under the tiny table and thinking I didn’t see him had me holding back a laugh.

Just like the other night at the bar when he was crouching behind his petite female friend, or date, maybe?

But their dynamic said she was a friend.

Either way she is maybe five foot two and him thinking she provided any sort of cover was hilarious. The guy sucks at hiding.

A grin is still on my face as I start the wash.

If he knew how much entertainment he’s given me over the past couple of weeks he’d probably be mortified.

I can’t say I blame him for not wanting me to see him though.

Finding out your girlfriend is cheating on you has to suck, and running into the guy she was cheating on you with certainly wouldn’t help.

I really hope he gets back out there and finds someone who will treat him right, because even though it was only a couple of awkward minutes that we exchanged, I could tell he was a nice guy, and those seem to be few and far between these days.

I change into a clean T-shirt and a pair of sweats, then simmer some water on the stove before pouring myself a cup of earl gray tea and settling on the sofa. I pick up my book, the pages worn and the spine creased and cracked from all the love it’s received.

I don’t work tonight, and while I did do some grocery shopping and still have some things on the to-do list, I’m also going to spend as much time as I can with Josephine March and her sisters. I’ve read Little Woman a dozen times at least but it’s a comfort read for me and it never gets old.

I take a sip of my tea as Marble, my Himalayan, jumps up on the sofa and then proceeds to settle onto my lap over top the blanket I’ve draped across myself.

She purrs as I pet her soft fur. “You know you’re spoiled, right?

” I tell her. She lifts her head, tilting it to the side as if to say, Yeah, what about it?

Before making herself comfortable again as I scratch her neck.

I must doze off because I’m awoken by the sound of voices in the hallway, and they don’t belong to my neighbors.

I’m on the bottom floor in my building, currently with a vacant apartment across the hall, my brother living above me with his husband, and my parents across the hall from them.

Yes, my whole family lives right next to each other, and while I know a lot of people would hate it, and no doubt think it’s a bit strange, I love it.

My parents and brother are everything to me and having them close gives me comfort.

My parents own the apartment complex and have always taken great care of it and their tenants.

Each building in the complex houses four units and there’s a dozen buildings in all.

I grab Marble and move her onto the floor as I stand. She stretches and yawns, then hops back up on the sofa and sprawls out on her back.

I stretch and pick my book up off the floor, setting it down on the coffee table, before I make my way to the door and peek out through the peephole.

There’s someone moving in next door and there’s a few different movers carrying boxes and furniture into the apartment.

Call me curious, but I have to know who my new neighbor is, so I open the door and step into the hall.

I nod at one of the movers as he steps out of the open apartment door and moves back down the hall towards the door of the building, while another guy heads inside, passing him on the way.

This guy isn’t wearing the movers’ shirt and hat.

Instead he’s dressed in a thick tan coat and jeans, carrying a very large, very familiar plush penguin. No way. It can’t be him.

It’s not until he turns towards the door to his apartment that I see the long blond and brown hair pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head and my suspicions are confirmed.

Oh. My. God. He doesn’t see me because the penguin is covering the entire right side of his face and blocking me from his view.

“Hey there,” I say, and he nearly jumps out of his skin.

Okay, I honestly didn’t mean to scare him, but that was kind of funny.

“Sorry,” I add with a chuckle. I can’t help biting the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing even more when he turns around with the giant penguin in front of his face and says nothing.

“You uh, you okay?” I ask. No response. “You do know I can see you right? I mean that’s a big penguin but it’s not that big.”

He sighs and lowers the giant plush penguin, his cheeks flushed crimson as he averts his gaze. I decide to go easy on him.

“You want some help bringing your stuff inside?”

His gaze meets mine now and he blinks at me, like he can’t believe I offered to help him. His mouth opens but no words come out.

“I can give you a hand if you want,” I say.

“Just let me get my shoes and coat on.” I disappear back into my apartment and return a moment later ready to lend a hand.

He comes out of his apartment, cheeks still flushed, but leads me to his car when I tell him to show me the way.

It’s a pretty cool car, too. I mean, I know shit all about cars but this one looks like it’s vintage and in great shape.

He hands me a box and I make my way through the snow and back inside with it, setting it down inside his apartment and wondering just how absurd it is that this man is the one who ended up being my new neighbor. Hopefully he doesn’t hate the idea of living across from me.

I go back outside and grab another box, carrying it inside.

Once everything is out of his car he shuts the trunk and then proceeds to remove the messy bun from his hair and run his fingers through it.

It’s honestly the most gorgeous hair I’ve ever seen, thick and full and falling to just below his broad shoulders.

I know lots of women who would be very jealous of that hair.

Hell, I might be jealous of that hair. He’s also wearing a gorgeous turquoise scarf that looks like it’s knitted and incredibly soft.

And I don’t normally notice things like this, but it’s bringing out the color in his eyes.

He catches me staring and flushes again, and I realize I am probably being a bit creepy, so I decide to introduce myself. “I’m Alex,” I tell him, holding out my hand. “Alex Florez-Romano.” He bites his lip, then turns to face me and takes my hand in his.

“Bentley Emerson,” he says, shaking it, that southern twang making me want to get him a cowboy hat and a rope or something.

“I like your scarf,” I tell him, and he looks down, then gives a soft smile.

“Thanks, my Gram made it.”

I nod. “It’s beautiful.” There’s a bit of an awkward pause so I say, “Listen, I know this is probably weird for you, but I swear I haven’t seen Stacy since our last date, and it really was just two dates.

We didn’t even sleep together. I hope that helps, and I swear I didn’t know about you or I never would have gone out with her at all. I’m not like that.”

He nods, some of the tension leaving his big body. “Thanks,” he says, voice soft. God, the guy looks like a Viking but I have the impression he’s nothing but a sweet teddy bear.

“You must be hungry. Why don’t you come to my place for dinner tonight since you’ve still got all that unpacking to do? I’m not much of a cook but I can do spaghetti and throw a salad together.”

He shuffles his feet, hands in his coat pockets. His gaze doesn’t meet mine. “Oh, uh, that’s okay, you don’t have to feed me. I’ll manage.” Shy much? Or just uncomfortable because it’s me?

“Look, it’s what, three o’clock ish now? Why don’t you take some time and think about it, and if you decide you want to take me up on my offer, just come knock on my door around six. Maybe you can get a nap in beforehand. You’ve probably had a long day.”

He nods and I leave him be, heading back to my apartment. I find myself really hoping he’ll come for dinner, because something about him tells me he’s worth getting to know a bit better. And while I love my family, Lord knows I could use a friend.