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It	By : meow Category: Individual Celebrities > Taylor Pyatt Views: 744 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Taylor Pyatt. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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It began with underwear.

“Sorry, but um… do these belong to you?” An attractive face poked into her open door; a half smirk accompanied his otherwise innocent remark. He was tall and broad shouldered, but his voice was clear and… unthreatening.

“They must have fallen out of a box.” Her face hurt from the strength of her blush at the sight of her only lacy bra hanging off the tip of his finger.

“Did you… happen to find anything else in the hall?” She was afraid to ask, or rather afraid of the answer. Damn. Her taping work needed improvement, but with so many boxes and only herself to do the moving, things were bound to get lost – she just didn’t expect it to be that particular garment.

“No.”

She released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“It’s always the quiet ones…” She could have sworn he muttered under his breath as he gave her a quick glance over and took in her sweat pants and tank top.

“Thanks,” she quickly snatched her bra from him, “I owe you.” The response left her mouth before she could think twice. So he found her bra and returned it. So he had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. So what?

It continued with neighbourly visits.

“Door’s open!” She stepped out of her kitchen.

“You really should lock it.”

“But, you just called a minute ago.” She handed him a cup of brown sugar.

“Still.”

“Shit… what happened? Did you get in a fight?”

“Nothing so dramatic.” He gave her one of his potent half grins.

“Then what?” Her brows crinkled in confusion, as she reached up and traced the cuts and bruises around his nose and eye.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry.”

“Just kidding. It doesn’t hurt anymore. It was from the game last night. Got a high stick.” His breath was warm on her hand.

“So, what’d you do?” She tipped her head to one side.

“Excuse me? The guy high sticked me out of nowhere.”

“No, no. The sugar. Baking something? What’d you do to piss off your girlfriend?” There was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

“I –” He stopped and gave an indignant grunt at her soft laughter.

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t keep her waiting.” She shooed him out of her apartment and closed the door behind him. She couldn’t help but feel envious.

It turned into a routine.

“Jesus! You scared the crap out of me.” She clutched her pounding heart beneath her bathrobe.

“Had to prove my point.”

“By hiding in my bedroom?” She crossed her arms across her chest self-consciously, but his gaze seemed to be following her movements.

He shrugged, taking a step towards her.

“Out! Your sugar’s on the counter.” Her pulse refused to slow down, but she willed her voice to sound even and normal.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Got any interesting new underwear to show me?”

“Nice try.” She half-heartedly, but carefully keeping her bathrobe in mind, kicked his behind.

It became something more.

“Sorry, I’m all out of brown.” She offered white.

“I won’t be needing it.” He stated with a forced smile.

“Oh. That’s good… right?” There was a lump in her throat that refused to go away.

There was silence as they stood one either side of her kitchen island.

“What did you do now? Need ideas on jewellery?” She looked at his handsome face and couldn’t believe that’d it been months since their first encounter; months since they’d become neighbours.

“I don’t think jewellery is going to cut it.” He let out a big sigh and ran his finger through his dark hair. “Why do you assume it’s always me? Always my fault?” His question was quietly spoken; his voice tender as if her answer held the answer to all of his problems.

“The sugar.” She shrugged, unable to keep the small bit of pitiful hope out of her voice. Hope for what exactly, she was afraid to admit. “Normally guys go for flowers and chocolate, but baking’s more personal isn’t it?” She realized she was rambling and cleared her throat awkwardly. “So… are you saying it wasn’t your fault?” She wished she could just say it.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.” He took a step around the island towards her... and then another.

“It’s mine too, isn’t it?” It came out as a breathy whisper on his lips as he bent down.

“And to think, it all began with underwear.”

Fin.
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