Not What I Thought

"Ain't?"

He turned the key in the door and pushed it open. Blinking slowly at me as if I were stupid for pointing it out. He ducked his head and took his glasses off. Dropping them into his palm.

Oh, my God. He took them off! I was hoping a red cape might unravel from his back. That seemed just as likely to me as him ever taking those stupid things off.

"Why are you here?" He asked again.

"You mentioned I should just take the money from my savings."

"Seems wise to me." He crossed the room and ducked into a side room.

Bedroom probably.

But my eyes were drawn to the room around me. Weights were hung on shelves near the door. The floor was barren except for a small rug outside the door he'd went in and one further down a short hallway.

Bathroom. I guessed.

Everything was monochrome. Neat and tidy.

Like being in the mind of a serial killer. My eyes widened and I stared at his doorway. Wondering if I should run while I could.

If he came out of that room squeezing a spurting needle, I was out.

I'd scream deuces and run straight to Logan's. I decided.

But when Porter emerged he was shirtless. Pulling on a black button up as fast as he stepped from the doorway. But not before I got a delicious glimpse of shining tan flesh covered in chest tattoos including a cross necklace. His shoulders each had dark designs I didn't get to inspect before they were covered.

I couldn't help that my greedy eyes set on a ridged abdomen that looked like it had been carved into stone by the hands of Aphrodite.

Jesus...Where was he hiding those?

They disappeared beneath a dark belt cinching the narrow waist of some dark tactical pants with extra pockets along the sides. He twisted toward a high shelf next to his room. Giving those fine abs a nice little flex as he moved.

I had to blink in shock to see if I was really seeing the same man.

He pulled down a small flashlight he dropped in his pocket. Handcuffs went into the other one.

Porter owns a pair of handcuffs? I was stunned.

And now incredibly curious.

Teresa would piss herself to climb over the desk if she knew that.

Lastly he pulled down a gun, dropping the magazine into his palm before he glided back the slide and inspected the chamber. Quickly releasing the slide and slapping the magazine back in he stuck it in a holster on his left hip.

He's left handed.

How did I not know that?

Better question. Why did I care now?

Because this, whatever this was, was hot.

Like scald the roots of my hair hot.

"Porter?"

"Yeah?" He glanced at me.

And without his glasses his eyes were vicious green. Like the skin of a lizard. Striking straight through me.

His perfectly manicured hair wasn't as dark as I thought.

There was more red in the rust color now that it was loose from him changing, with a thick piece curling over one corner of his forehead, wildly.

He buttoned his shirt quickly and shoved the bottom in his pants before rolling both sleeves up his elbows. Revealing an interesting design on one forearm. A strange tribal that seemed strikingly familiar.

Where have I seen one like that before?

One the other side was a small bulldog. My dad had, had one like that.

A marine bulldog?

"You're staring, Love." He remarked without looking up.

"Who the fuck are you?" I blinked. Wondering if I should creep past him and see if Porter was still in his room and this was some weird twin.

That I wanted to do dirty, dirty, things to.

Anywhere.

I shook my head. Stunned at my own idiotic thoughts. Since when did Porter make me stupid.

"Same man you were mocking a few hours ago."

"Didn't think you noticed." I remarked.

His brow indented. "Why? Think I'm stupid."

My head turned slowly to inspect the immaculate apartment.

Clearly not.

This was an everything in it's place kinda studio apartment. That depicted organization, control, intelligence.

I knew in that moment, unequivocably, that all that time I'd thought I was so clever, sneaking my skimming of the Meridian past him, I'd been very wrong.

He knew the whole time.

I looked back at him.

A man like this doesn't miss a thing.

That made my mouth dry and my heart drop.

So why was he saying something now?

"You going to get to the point, Love. Or just keep staring at me like a dog in heat?"

I gave him an appalled look.

"I'm not a dog!"

He blinked slowly. "You're not deny-"

"Not that either!" I cut him off before he dared finish that sentence. "You said you'd cover the gap with your savings."

"I did." He nodded.

"You said that, like you have a lot of it."

"Enough."

"Loan me some." I blurted.

His eyes went hooded and for one heart-stopping moment I thought he'd tell me to pound sand.

"What makes you think I don't have my own things to spend it on?"

"You're you." I gestured to him.

Porter was a homebody, shy, unsocial... I stopped those thoughts because I was less sure about them now. What could he possibly spend it on.

"Meaning what?" He crossed sinewed forearms over his chest. Making the muscles under shirt bulge.

"You always work late, you care too much about being innocuous, you have no social skills. You clearly don't have much of a life."

He tipped his head back and laughed at that. Revealing perfect, square teeth.

Teeth which I couldn't recall ever seeing before.

Did he ever smile at Chase & Walker?

Nope. Don't think so. I decided.

"You know so much about me, do ya Love?"

Love?

What was with that? And why did it sound so natural on his lips. It should sound weird and awkward.

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Because you're adorable when you want something. I rather enjoy it."