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Lydia flung her hamper over her shoulder with a groan. Once again, she has waited far too long to do her laundry, and she had enough for at least three loads. She didn’t know why she always put it off so long—it just meant that she’d have to spend even more time in the shitty apartment building laundry room. She had lived there for a few weeks now, and she still hadn’t gotten used to the dingy basement room. It was always cold, usually smelt vaguely musky, and she always seemed to run into the creepy guy who lived on the floor below her.
When she reached the basement, Lydia let out a long sigh of relief. There was only one other person in the basement, and it wasn’t the creepy guy. She tucked her hair behind her ears, making sure that her earbuds were clearly visible in case the anyone thought she might be up for conversation. As soon as she walked into the laundry room, though, the other man caught her attention.
He was about her age, dressed in joggers and a dark green football t-shirt. The shirt was tight and fitted, emphasizing his muscled arms and back. Lydia had to force herself to look away, forcing herself to stop imagining what it would feel like to run her hand through his shiny black hair.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could swear she saw him check her out. Refusing to consider the possibility, though, she returned her attention to her laundry. Snagging the open machine farthest from the guy, she got to work loading it.
Thanks to the broken-down elevator in the building, Lydia decided not to make the hike back up to her sixth-floor apart, instead settling in on one of the rickety metal folding chairs that sat in the corner of the room.
The hot guy did the same, taking the folding chair on the opposite end of the room from her. He pulled out his phone, glancing over the top of it to look at her.
She quickly diverted her gaze, not wanting to get caught looking. Brushing her hair slightly over her face, she looked down at her phone, determined not to look up until the machine was done.
“No, Dad,” Lydia muttered, yanking a shirt out of the washer and throwing it in the drier. Of course, he had decided to call as soon as it was time for her to switch her laundry. “I really, really, do not need you to come over and help me. I am perfectly capable of putting the bed together myself.”
He said something in response that she barely listened to, too concerned with trying to finish her laundry.
“No, Dad, I really mean it. It’s just a bed—I can assemble it myself.”
Across the room, she heard the hot guy chuckle, and Lydia had to bite back an even louder groan. She reached back into the washer, cursing her short stature for making it difficult to reach the bottom. Grabbing another handful of clothes, she crossed the room to throw them in the drier.
Through her earbuds, her dad was still going on about how he and her brother could come over to help her assemble her new Ikea monstrosity of a bed. While she knew the likelihood of her setting it up correctly on her own was slim, she could think of nothing worse than her dad and brother coming over for what would surely become a whole damn day to help.
“I’m sorry, Dad, but I really need to go,” she cut him off, fishing around in the bottom of the washer. “I’m kind of in the middle of doing laundry.”
She bit her lip as he said his usual lengthy goodbye, sighing with relief when she was finally able to hang up. Frustrated, she yanked the earbuds out and stood up on her tiptoes to attempt to reach the bottom of the washer where one stubborn bra seemed to be just out of reach.
After what felt like forever, she managed to get her fingers around the strap of a bra, standing up to yank it out. The material was snagged on something, though, and it snapped out of her hand and back to the bottom of the washer.
“Motherfu—” she cut off. Biting back a wince, she reached in deeper, the cool metal of the machine digging into her ribs painfully.
When it didn’t budge again, she pulled harder, cursing under her breath as she lost her patience. It was clearly stuck on something, but she was too damn short to see what. She reached back in, giving it another yank. This time, the bra snapped free, and she stumbled back, the momentum from yanking so hard nearly taking her off her feet.
Lydia watched in horror as the bra ripped out of her hand and took to the air. Everything moved in slow motion as it began to soar, cutting through the room like a missile. Her jaw dropped, and she managed to look away from it for just long enough to see where it was going—
Directly toward the hot guy.
Lydia’s feet were frozen in place, her heart racing. Before she could force herself to react, though, the bra was hitting him in the side of the face, landing on his shoulder.
The guy jumped, his eyes widening when he saw what hit him. The bra was soft pink lace, with a little bow in the middle. He grabbed it off his shoulder, looking over at Lydia with an amused smile. “This yours?”
Her mouth opened and closed silently. Then, she took off toward him, nearly snatching the bra out of his hands. Her words spilled out of her mouth in a panicked frenzy. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry. I’ll take that—and—shit, I’ll—”
The guy laughed softly, his eyes lighting up as he finally got a good look at her. Her hair was out of her face now, her earbuds in her pocket. He couldn’t help but stare, completely enraptured by her bright green eyes and the pink blush that had covered her neck and cheeks.
“Hey, it’s no big deal. I’m Reg—”
“Thanks!” she said hurriedly, holding the bra tight to herself as she scrambled back to her own drier. She yanked her headphones out of her pocket, keeping her eyes firmly on the laundry as she got back to work.
Reggie laughed, shaking his head as he watched her. Her cheeks were still bright red, and she looked determined not to look up at him. “Great to meet you, too,” he said under his breath, biting back a smile.
Lydia didn’t hear him, too consumed with reliving the moment over and over in explicit and dramatic detail. All she could see was that bra flying through the air, hitting him in the face. That, and the utterly idiotic way she handled it. She couldn’t even get a sentence out—she just stammered like an absolute idiot.
She loaded the drier as fast as she possibly could, fumbling in her pocket for her last four quarters. Keeping her eyes fixed on the machine, she dropped the quarters in and hit start. When nothing happened, she cursed softly. Angrily, she smashed the coin return button, hitting it repeatedly. When nothing happened, she cursed loudly.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she groaned, muttering under her breath. “The last four—shit—"
Across the room, Reggie’s eyebrows raised with amusement. Smirking, he fished the full roll of quarters of out his pocket and set it on the closed washing machine next to him, making sure they were clearly visible. He started loading his machine more slowly, taking care to set each item of clothing in gently and deliberately.
Lydia hit the coin return button one last time, silently wishing she could crawl into a machine and disappear. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the hot guy putting his clothes in the drier. Next to him, there was a full roll of quarters sitting out like he wanted her to see them.
She considered her options. One, she could hike back up the six flights of stairs to her apartment and scour every inch of the place for more quarters. Not ideal and no guarantee that she’d even find four, especially before someone else jumped in and stole her machine.
Two, she could get in her car and drive to the bank, literally making a withdrawal in order to get a few bucks worth of quarters. Again, not ideal, and it would probably take a stupidly long amount of time.
Or three, she could ask the guy to borrow a few. She swallowed hard—not only was he insanely hot, she had just thrown a bra at him. There was no way she’d be able to ask him to borrow quarters.
What choice did she have though?
With a deep sigh, Lydia accepted her fate. She really had no choice but to ask him to save her from her laundry disaster. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and straightened her shirt. Then, she took a moment to hype herself up, smoothing out her now-messy hair and praying that she wasn’t still blushing like a tomato.
She was going to talk to the hot guy—she was going to have to ask the hot guy for quarters.
Steeling herself, she walked over, putting on her most charming smile. “Hey, there.”
He was grinning widely when he turned around to face her. “Hey,” he replied, running his hand through his hair.
She cursed herself internally—she could barely keep her eyes off him. He was even hotter now that she was really looking at him, and his smile made her heart do backflips. At least he found her awkwardness amusing.
“So, um, I was wondering—” She cut off with a sigh. “Is there any chance I could borrow a few quarters? The machine ate my last four.”
His smile widened, his dark eyes lighting up. “Hmm, how about we start with your name?”
“Lydia. My name’s Lydia. And you are?”
“Reggie Mantle.” He held out his hand, shaking hers. “Great to meet you—have you lived in the building long?”
“A few weeks,” she answered quickly, desperate to get out of the conversation. He was too good-looking, and she was too awkward.
“Really?” His eyes flicked down her body. “Explains why I’ve never seen you before. I was sure I’d remember a girl that pretty.”
Lydia let out a frustrated sigh. She could barely think of anything but how embarrassed she was, and here he was trying to flirt with her. Then, she froze, the realization hitting her—he was trying to flirt with her. Either he didn’t think she was an absolute lunatic, or he didn’t care. Her mouth opened and closed silently a few times, and then, she managed to find words.
“Are you flirting with me?”
He burst out laughing, catching himself on the washing machine as he doubled over. “Is it really that crazy?”
She couldn’t help but laugh with him, relief flowing through her. “I guess not. I—well, I just flung a bra at you, so…”
Reggie managed to stand up, his lips curving into a smirk. “Mhm, you sure did. Cute bra, too.”
Her cheeks went bright red, and she attempted to stammer out a reply. “I—wha—”
“Wow, you fluster easily, don’t you?”
She groaned, covering her heated face with her hands. “Could we maybe just not bring up the bra anymore?”
“Your wish is my command,” he said with his usual cheesy grin.
Laughing, she shook her head. “So, about my original question—any chance I could borrow a few quarters?”
His dark eyes lit up, and he picked up the roll of quarters. He fingered the paper wrapper silently for a moment before looking back at her. “I’ll let you keep the quarters, but on one condition.”
“What’s your condition?”
“Come get coffee with me while we wait for our laundry. We can go to that place next door.”
Lydia’s jaw dropped, and she was too stunned to answer. “Wait, seriously?”
“Seriously,” he laughed. “What is with you being so shocked by someone showing interest in you? You do realize you’re attractive, right?”
Stunned by his forwardness, she just shook her head. “I—um—” She snapped her mouth shut. Then, she let out a soft laugh. “You know what, sure. Let’s get coffee.”
It was his turn to be surprised, and his eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I need those quarters, and contrary to what you seem to believe, I am capable of socializing like a normal human.”
“Good, I’m glad.” He smiled widely and handed her the quarters. “Just give me a few seconds to finish loading my machine.”
She took the quarters, her fingers brushing against his. “Deal.”
They both finished loading their driers, starting the next load. Then, they started walking toward the stairs together.
“You know, I didn’t think you were going to say yes for a while there,” Reggie mused. “I thought I may have actually scared you off.”
Lydia rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “Scared? Me? Never.”
He chuckled, his hand brushing against hers as they walked. “Of course not.” He looked down at her with a grin. “I mean, really, it’s a pretty ballsy move to throw a bra at a guy to get his attention.”
“I did no such thing!” she laughed, shoving him slightly. “That was a complete accident!”
“Sure, it was,” he drawled. They reached the building exit, and he held the door open for her as she walked out. He followed behind her, still smirking to himself. “But hey, I’m never going to complain about you throwing a bra at me.”
“Reggie!” she laughed. “You can’t just say things like that!”
“Hey, you’re the one who threw a bra at me. Imagine what our friends will say when we tell them how we met.”
“Reggie, you cannot tell anyone how we met.”
“Why not?” He grinned. “It’s a great story.”
Lydia rolled her eyes, her hand brushing against his as they came to a stop on the sidewalk. This time, Reggie took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. Lydia smiled softly, looking up at him. “It’s an okay story.”
“Well, I’ll just say this.” Reggie pulled her closer, wrapping one of his arms around her waist. His voice dropped to a whisper, and he dipped his head close to hers. “I’m really hoping this isn’t the last time you throw your bra at me.”
“Reggie!”
“Kidding, kidding,” he laughed, pulling her toward the coffee shop. “Unless you want to, of course.”