Letting her bag drop to the floor at her feet, Mia glanced down at what she was wearing. Seriously? Why would that guy have any interest in her? She looked like she should be coming home to greet her mother after a long day at school.

High school.

Shaking her head, Mia made her way to the kitchen and straight to the refrigerator. She'd done her grocery shopping on Saturday, but as she stood there, she realized she'd been on a health kick that day. Which reminded her ... wasn't one of her resolutions to start going to the gym?

Ignoring the wayward thought, Mia studied the contents of her refrigerator.

Right now, she simply wanted some Ben and Jerry's and a clean spoon. That would suffice for dinner.

Unfortunately, the only thing she had that could possibly curb her sweet tooth would be the frozen Greek yogurt she'd bought. And that, honestly, didn't sound appealing at all.

So, instead of trying to pretend ice cream would materialize if she thought about it hard enough, Mia grabbed an orange from the produce drawer and made her way to the trash can to peel it. That took a lot less time than she thought it would, and the next thing she knew, she was back in front of the freezer, once again looking for ice cream.

It still wasn't there.

She glanced at the clock and then back to the refrigerator.

Hmmm.

There may not be any ice cream hidden behind the frozen Healthy Choice TV dinners, but there was a coffee shop next door. They wouldn't have ice cream, but they would have some sort of coffee concoction that could easily make up for it.

Smiling at her brilliance, Mia grabbed her wallet, the paperback she'd bought at the bookstore conveniently located across the street from the building her last class was in, and her condo key from her bag before heading out. Thankfully, she didn't age much as she waited for the elevator this time. However, she found herself once again sharing the car with an incredibly attractive, albeit quite menacing-looking, man.

This one looked nothing like the guy in the suit she'd seen earlier - except for the fact that he, too, was wearing a suit - although he smelled just as good. How that was possible, she had no idea. With his shaggy dark hair that hung over his forehead and dark shadowed jaw, plus black suit and crisp white shirt, he held an air of danger. When his golden eyes raked over her, starting at her feet and working upward, a shiver raced down her spine, and she fought the urge to outwardly shiver, hoping he didn't notice how affected she was by his perusal.

Lord have mercy, she was doing it again. What was it with this building? It seemed each man she saw was as handsome, if not more so, than the first. And where the hell had they all come from? She'd lived there for nearly five months, and all of a sudden they'd decided to venture out? Doubtful.

Maybe there was a hot guy convention or something. Did they do that sort of thing there?

Doing her best to ignore him and his tantalizing scent, Mia focused on the numbers above the door, counting down in her head as each floor passed. A muted ding signaled the arrival to the first floor, and Mia had to hold on to the bar behind her to keep from bolting as soon as the doors opened.

"Ladies first," the man said kindly, although it sounded more like a growl. A deep, seductive rumble that made her toes curl.

Forcing her feet to move, Mia mumbled a polite thank you as she exited the elevator and made a beeline for the front doors. She could feel his eyes on her, and then she remembered what she was wearing. Definitely not her most flattering outfit.

You're not supposed to care, a little voice in her head said as she walked briskly toward the front doors of the building.

I don't, she mentally replied to the voice.

Yep, keep telling yourself that.

Mia grumbled, realizing she was now arguing with herself.

"Did you say something?"

Looking up, she noticed the tall, sexy stranger from the elevator was standing beside her as George held open the door for them both.

"No, sorry," she muttered softly and then turned, quickly heading away from the guy as fast as she could without looking too conspicuous. She hoped.

With a heavy sigh of relief, she stepped into the small coffee shop, inhaling the heavenly aroma. Mia could've lived in there if they'd let her. Just to wake up to that smell every single day.

The barista behind the counter greeted her with a tired smile, and she ordered quickly, familiar with the drill. She gave her name, handed over her credit card, and then stepped out of the way when the weary woman behind the counter returned it a second later.

While she waited with two other people for her drink to be made, Mia studied the patrons scattered throughout the relatively small space. There was an older man - probably in his sixties - sitting at a table with a laptop in front of him. He looked deep in thought as he stared at the screen, and Mia imagined him to be an author, deeply engrossed in the next best seller he was writing. A dark-haired woman sat in one of the more casual chairs, her legs crossed as she listened intently to the phone that was stuck to her ear, sipping her coffee as she nodded her head. In Mia's mind, the woman was talking to her sister, debating on where they would go for dinner next weekend. Then there was a young woman standing with a guy who Mia assumed was her boyfriend a few feet away, waiting patiently for their drinks.

The man making the coffee called out a name, and the couple moved forward, taking two cups and heading straight for the door. Mia moved closer to the wall, watching them leave hand in hand when she noticed another guy come in. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to get a better look at him in the dimly lit space, which wasn't easy to do with the sun's reflection off the building across the street silhouetting him from behind. As he moved closer, she realized he looked a lot like the guy from that morning in the lobby.

No, wait.

He looked exactly like the man from the lobby. He was even wearing the same black hoodie and shorts. Did he not have a job? Then again, maybe he ran twice a day. Since she wasn't much for exercise - hence the need for non-fat frozen Greek yogurt and Healthy Choice meals in her freezer - what did she know about the habits of runners? Hell, she couldn't even convince herself to go to the state-of-the-art gym in her building, opting to hang out in a coffee shop rather than ratchet up her pulse for the good of her heart.

Then again, looking at that guy was doing a damn fine job of raising her blood pressure.

He made his way to the counter, and the girl who had forced a smile at Mia when she had been in that spot a few minutes before beamed back at the man as though she'd recently awoken from a two-hour nap.

"Hey, Coach. What can I get ya?"

Coach? Really? That was his name? Well, it kind of explained the clothes.

Regardless, those two were clearly on a first-name basis, possibly more based on the way the woman caressed him from head to waist with her eyes as he stared back at her.

He rattled off his order, and that dark, seductive voice sounded eerily familiar. Like she'd heard it somewhere before. As she allowed her gaze to rake over him, hoping he didn't turn around and catch her staring, Mia tried to figure out if they'd actually spoken to one another.

No. There was no way. She'd seen him that morning, but he hadn't talked to her, had he?

"Mia!" the barista called as he pushed a plastic cup out onto the counter, tossing a paper-wrapped straw alongside it.

"Thank you," she called out to him, but he'd already moved on to help the next customer, which happened to be the man in the hoodie.

Not thinking, Mia unwrapped the straw and stuck it into the cup before bringing it to her lips. As she turned around to throw the paper in the trash, she practically ran right into Hot Hoodie Guy.

"Sorry," she muttered, stepping around him at the very last second, avoiding a full-body collision by mere centimeters.

Mia dodged looking directly at him, thankful the hood covered most of his head because she hoped it limited his ability to see the evidence of her embarrassment in her heated cheeks. With her head down, she darted toward one of the empty chairs in the corner near the windows at the front. That way she could read her book and watch the people on the street.

And, more importantly, keep her back to Hot Hoodie Guy.

Placing her cup on the small table, she opened her paperback and pretended to read what was on the page. She was actually peering over her shoulder at the hoodie guy, trying to get a better look at his face. He was talking to the man making the coffee, leaning on the counter casually as they spoke. The glass partition that separated the customer side of the counter from where they worked as well as the hood he had over his head were obscuring her view.

Not like it really mattered what he looked like anyway. Mia didn't have time to be admiring anyone, not even from afar. She had too much to focus on. School was keeping her plenty busy.

And on top of that, she didn't want to date anyone, so it didn't really make sense that she should get caught ogling some attractive runner who quite possibly lived in her building. She had a plan. And it definitely didn't consist of a relationship - casual or otherwise - anytime in the near future.

Chapter Five.

"I HEAR YA, man," Phoenix told the guy behind the counter, although hearing him was about as far as Phoenix got, which was the same as most days he came into the coffee shop.

The name of the guy making his coffee was Brian, he knew that much. He was married with a kid. Other than that, Phoenix didn't really know him, but every time he came in the coffee shop, which was usually at least twice a day on the days he was in town, Brian greeted him as though they were long-lost friends. Somewhere along the way, they'd given him a nickname - Coach - and though it had stuck, Phoenix had never bothered to correct them on the fact that he technically wasn't a coach. Granted, his driver and a few others had adopted the nickname just to fuck with him, so he'd gotten used to it.

Today, Brian was telling a story about how his son had started kindergarten that year and wasn't all that keen on having to go back now that the holidays were over. Phoenix couldn't relate - he didn't have kids and wasn't around them at all - but he smiled and nodded, tacking on the appropriate encouraging phrase when necessary. He knew how to hold a conversation even when he knew little about the topic; he'd been doing it most of his life.

When Brian passed over the drink he had ordered, Phoenix walked back over to the register, dropping a five-dollar bill into the glass jar labeled TIPS. It wasn't that he was feeling overly generous as much as he was trying to get a look at Mia.

Yes, Mia.

He knew her name thanks to the information Tarik had provided him that morning, but now he had another reason to know her name. A reason that was significantly less stalkerish than having someone pull up her personal information without her knowing. Brian had conveniently announced her order as Phoenix had been paying for his own, which meant he now had a suitable excuse. Running into her for the third time in one day seemed almost ... too good to be true.

During their trip up to the seventeenth floor, Phoenix had wondered whether or not she had realized he was the same guy from their run-in in the lobby that morning. He didn't think so, based on the way she was darting looks at him. And that intrigued him for reasons he didn't quite understand. Not that she had given either "him" an approving look, but Phoenix had to wonder why she'd gone out of her way to avoid looking at him both times. Hell, he'd laughed when she'd practically launched herself out of the elevator when they'd finally reached her floor.

Mia.

He had to admit, even her name gave him a hard-on.

Deciding he wasn't ready to allow this opportunity to pass him by, he took his coffee over to the corner she was sitting in and dropped down into one of the chairs behind her. She looked intently focused on the novel in her hand, and he would've believed that she was engrossed in the story, but even he noticed that the thing was upside down. Not that he intended to say anything. She was too damn cute, and he liked the idea that she was possibly trying to avoid him.

Her cell phone rang, and Phoenix sat back, waiting. He still wasn't sure whether he would interrupt her or not, but he was seriously considering it. He'd never been the kind to let an opportunity pass him by.

"Hey," she greeted the caller.

Phoenix immediately liked her voice. Soft and a little raspy. Not the high-pitched, saccharine type he'd heard far too many times.

"Yeah, it was good. Kinda boring."

He wished he could hear what the caller was asking her. He had an overwhelming urge to know what she was talking about.

"No."

Pause.

"Yes."

Pause.

"Tomorrow night? Are you-?"

Pause. (Obviously interrupted by the person on the other end of the line.) "Hockey? Really? I don't know, Alex..."

Well, hell. Phoenix frowned. Alex? Seriously? She was talking to some guy? About hockey? That would be just his fucking luck.

"Got it. Yep, I'm in."

Pause.

"What about Friday?"

Pause.

"Aww, crap. I totally forgot about that. Yes, you can pick me up."

Pause.

"Yes," she said, chuckling. "Friday night. It's a date."

Pause.

"Okay. See you tomorrow night."

A strange wave of disappointment flooded him as he watched Mia tuck her phone into the pocket of her sweatshirt. She had a date with Alex. Two dates, it sounded like. He found it odd that it bothered him. He'd really have to give that some thought. It wasn't like he knew the girl, so why the hell should he care if she were going out on a date?

Shit.

Getting to his feet, Phoenix grabbed his coffee and headed for the door. As he pushed it open, he glanced back at Mia. She was looking at her book again; this time it was right side up in her hands, and she didn't seem to be paying any attention to him.

Seriously. He was going to have to figure out what the hell his problem was, because he didn't chase women. Ever. He didn't have to. There were too many lining up to spend a night in his bed. And that wasn't ego talking, either. Sometimes it was irritating as fuck because ... well, because sometimes it was just irritating.

Maybe he would like the chase; he didn't really know. If and when it ever happened, he'd know.

Stopping at the door, he dared one more look at her. This time, her arctic-blue eyes slowly slid up to meet his. God, she was beautiful. In a sweet, innocent sort of way. He offered a small smile, a barely there tilt of the corner of his lips, and he felt a jolt of heat hit him square in the gut when her cheeks turned a fascinating shade of pink right before her eyes darted back to her book.

As he headed out of the coffee shop, his cell phone chirped, signaling a message. He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. A text from Tarik.

The blonde girl's cute. Not your type, but cute.

Phoenix smiled and typed a quick response. Not your type, either. Hands off.

Not surprisingly, he received one more message before he reached the elevator to take him to the penthouse.

No promises.

When Phoenix walked into his condominium a few minutes later, after waiting for the damn elevator for longer than he'd cared to, he was grateful to be alone. Tarik wasn't there, and surprisingly, Phoenix's mother wasn't there to greet him, either.

Maybe that sounded strange, but it was necessary to understand his life to realize why he'd prefer to be met with silence than someone asking him questions about his day. Living alone, it should've been a no-brainer that he would have time to himself, but strangely, it seemed people were always traipsing in and out his door, never offering him a moment's peace.

Case in point, when Phoenix had come home earlier, Tarik had been in Phoenix's home office, his laptop sitting on the desk in front of him and the phone to his ear. It wasn't unusual to find Tarik in his condo at any time of the day. When it came to business, Tarik took his job very seriously. Oddly, Tarik was about the only person Phoenix could tolerate in large doses.

Tarik had greeted him with a gruff look, which, now that he thought about it, really was the guy's one and only expression, but no words. That had lasted all of about a minute before Phoenix had headed for his bedroom, changed out of his suit and back into street clothes - which so happened to be the same as his running clothes, his going-to-the-store clothes, and ... hell, they were pretty much the only thing he wore when he didn't have to be somewhere important - then darted back downstairs. Initially, he had gone in search of coffee, but seeing Mia had briefly changed his reason for being there.

Dropping down onto the leather sofa that sat in the center of his living room, facing the wall of windows in a room that he spent little time in - there wasn't a television, therefore he didn't have much use for the room - Phoenix contemplated his little hang-up on the blonde-haired, crystal-blue-eyed woman who lived in his building. She was hot, there was absolutely no doubt about that. But seeing a sexy woman didn't generally spike his pulse the way she did, or send him into some sort of fixation. Clearly this woman had something ... something incredibly appealing.