Chapter 2

“Bug problem?” the handsome man in question asked as the basket slowly ascended. Alec worked to suppress the sudden daydream of his newly formed acquaintance hoisting the small basket with sweat-glistened bare arms and flexing muscles.

I’ve been isolating myself too long, he thought. Not that the lifting of restrictions would make much of a difference where Alec was concerned. While his upstairs neighbor inhabited the realm of the physically chiseled, Alec practically embodied the word nondescript. Hair that preferred to stick up rather than be styled, eyes somewhere in the vicinity of pale green, shape skirting the edges of soft—Alec knew someone as beautiful as Nico would walk right past him in a bar.

“Computer bug. I’m a programmer,” answered Alec, cringing visibly as he wished once again his job did not sound like a life choice equivalent to a sweater vest.

“So, you are still working?” Nico called as the basket disappeared over the rail.