Okay, um…

Crap!

I pulled it together and greeted, “Hey,” then added, “What are you doing here?”

I didn’t need to ask. I was taking in his face, his well-cut, dark suit, his shirt that was the color of moss and it suited him, even with blue eyes, to perfection and the fact that he seemed mildly annoyed. But I didn’t miss the glossy black box he held in one long-fingered hand.

He made it to me and held up the box. “Take it,” he ordered, no greeting, no smile, nothing but those two words.

I looked down at the box then up to his eyes.

“Knight, I can’t,” I said softly.

His head tipped slightly to the side and his brows drew together as he asked, “Why the f**k not?”

“Because I looked it up at work and I know it costs nine hundred and eighty-nine dollars.”

“So?” he returned instantly.

I stared at him.

Then I repeated his, “So?”

“Yeah, babe. So?”

I turned fully to him. “So, I don’t know you.”

“So?”

“So?” I again repeated his repeat.

“Jesus, f**k, babe,” he jerked the box to me sounding impatient, “got shit to do. Take it.”

“Knight, I can’t,” I reiterated.

“Anya, babe,” he leaned in and reiterated back with some scary emphasis, “why the f**k not?”

I stared into his eyes. He was impatient. He was annoyed. I did not know this man and he was trying to give me a nearly one thousand dollar phone like it was nothing.

“Why are you pressing this phone on me?” I asked quietly and he leaned back.

“Told you in the note, you read?” he asked, this sarcasm not amusing but I didn’t call him on that. I nodded. “Then you know, woman needs a functioning phone.”

“I’m saving,” I shared. “I’ll have one in a couple of weeks.”

His eyes held mine.

Then he whispered, “Saving?”

Crap. Crap!

I ignored that and all it exposed and assured him, “Anyway, I’m fine. Good. Or I will be on the phone front in a couple of weeks.”

He didn’t say anything for a few beats then, softly, he ordered, “Anya, take the phone.”

“Knight –”

“Take the phone.”

“I don’t –”

“Babe, take the f**king phone.”

“Did you beat up Steve?”

I blurted that and I didn’t know why. If he didn’t, it was a rude thing to assume. If he did, I didn’t want to know.

But he didn’t hesitate to reply, “No.”

I felt relief sweep through me.

“But I sent the boys who did,” he finished.

My entire body got tight but I forced through stiff lips my, “What?”

“Though,” he amended, “it wasn’t me taking shots at that motherfucker only because I had other shit to do.”

I said nothing and stared.

Knight got more impatient. “Anya, got shit to do now too. Take the f**kin’ phone.”

“Why’d you have boys beat up Steve?” I asked and again didn’t know why. I didn’t want to know. But I asked anyway and he answered.

“Babe, your building, a fire hazard. One flight of steps for a building that size? Fuck no,” he bit out, now not sounding impatient but pissed. “A fire could cut off from your escape route, you only got one. And the door open for any motherfucker to walk through? They see you, trail you, you’re f**ked. Totally. Not only because you only got one set of stairs, and it’s the one furthest away from the front door, but also, once you get up to your hall, it’s dark and your door’s got a lock, one boot to it, it’ll pop right open. That’s bullshit. Your rent isn’t steep but it isn’t shit either. You pay for a workin’ fuckin’ elevator and a secured door. I sent my boys to have a word. The words your landlord returned they didn’t like much. They gave me a call, I gave them the go-ahead, you got a secured door, lighting and a f**king lock that might give you enough time to at least dial 911 before some motherfucker is on you.”

Okay, that explained that.

At the same time it absolutely did not.

“Why?” I whispered.

“What?” Knight didn’t whisper.

“Why? Why did you take that trouble or, I mean, send boys to do it? You barely know me.”

And that was when Knight Sebring laid it out and when he did, I didn’t feel tingles. I felt shivers. I just didn’t know what the shivers meant.

“Babe, your clothes. Shit. But you work ‘em and you do because you’ve got one serious fantastic body, your hair is even better and your face is a face that launches a thousand hard-ons. Trust me, any man you’ve looked at probably since you were thirteen has jacked off thinkin’ of you. All this is a recipe for disaster if you live alone in an unsecured building with a lock like the one you got. Someone had to step up. Seein’ as you aren’t the only one who lives here and my guess, at least one person in that building bitched and nothin’ got done, so I stepped up. It took my boys an hour. Your landlord was a dick so it was an hour they enjoyed. Not a big deal. Now take the f**kin’ phone.”

“Trust me, any man you’ve looked at probably since you were thirteen has jacked off thinkin’ of you.”

Did this mean him too?

Oh my God!

“Anya,” he growled, it was a scary growl so I lifted my hand immediately and took the box.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

“I don’t know what to do to thank you,” I muttered back.

“I ask for gratitude?” he asked and I shook my head so he went on, “Then, I will now. Use that phone. Don’t sell it. Don’t set it aside. Take it upstairs. Charge it. Use the piece a’ shit you got, if it works long enough, to tell your people your new number which is written in the shit in the box. Then use the phone. That’s how you can thank me.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Fuck,” he whispered back then he turned to leave.

To leave!

Was that it?

All this effort, money and a vulgar compliment that still managed to be a whopper and he just leaves?

I turned to watch him go and found my voice calling, “Knight?”