Next Door Neighbor

[buzz438]

Moving Day

I was balancing a heavy box of kitchenware against my hip, fumbling with my keys, when I first heard his voice.
"Need a hand with that?"

I turned and saw him—tall, good-looking, with kind eyes, but thin, almost fragile in build. He wore a fitted T-shirt that only highlighted his lack of muscle. He looked like the kind of guy who spent more time at a desk than under a barbell. Still, there was something endearing about the way he stepped forward, hand outstretched, like he had rehearsed this neighborly introduction.

"I'm Brian," he said, offering his hand.

I shifted the box onto my other hip, then clasped his hand firmly. His grip was warm but weak. I could feel how much smaller his hand felt inside mine, and I had to resist the urge to squeeze harder just to see his reaction.
"Nicole. I just moved in—next door, actually."

"Right next door?" He smiled, gesturing to the condo beside his. "Guess that makes us neighbors. Welcome."



The Offer

He glanced at the box I was carrying and then at the small stack of others still waiting near the elevator.
"Let me help you with those."

I arched an eyebrow. The offer was sweet, but I couldn't help noticing how his arms didn't exactly scream "moving day muscle." Still, I handed him one of the lighter boxes, the one with pillows, just to test him.

He gripped it awkwardly, hugging it to his chest.
"Whoa—yep, got it. No problem," he muttered, clearly struggling to balance the box.

I smirked. "You sure? That one's mostly just pillows."

His cheeks went red, and he laughed nervously. "Hey, pillows can be deceptively heavy."

"Uh-huh," I teased, carrying my own box easily with one arm while his knees bent slightly under the featherweight load.



Upstairs

We walked together down the hall, his condo door right before mine. He carefully set the box down inside my unit, catching his breath as though he'd just hauled furniture instead of fluff.

"You really don't have to help," I told him, stacking my box on the counter. "I've got it under control."

"Yeah, but, you know—neighborly duties. Besides..." He gave a half-grin. "Maybe this is the universe's way of forcing me to get some exercise."

I laughed, leaning against the counter. "If this is your workout for the week, you're in trouble."



The First Hint

He glanced at me then, his eyes flicking toward my arms and abs, which were still visible under my cropped polka-dot top. I caught him looking, and instead of being offended, I tilted my head and smiled.
"You look like you've noticed something," I said.

His face turned crimson. "No! I mean—yes. You're, uh... fit. Very fit."

"I train every day," I replied matter-of-factly. "Weights, cardio, the whole thing. I guess it shows."

He nodded quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, it definitely shows."

There was a silence between us—awkward for him, but not for me. I could feel the shift in his demeanor: he was curious, maybe even intimidated, but too polite to admit it.



Setting the Tone

"Thanks for helping, Brian," I said, walking him back to the door. Before he stepped out, I added with a teasing grin:
"Next time you want to work out, you can carry the heavier boxes."

He laughed softly, though his eyes darted away. "Deal. Though, uh, I might need training wheels for that."

"Don't worry," I said, flexing my arm just enough to make my bicep peak under the skin. "I'll spot you."

His eyes widened, and I knew I'd caught him off guard. The poor guy didn't know what to say, so he just smiled nervously before retreating back into his own condo.

I closed the door behind me, smirking to myself. Something told me living next to Brian was going to be very entertaining.

[buzz438]

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