I drop the binoculars in a garbage can outside the building before I cross the street. I won’t be needing those anymore. Payton made the decision, and we’re switching this to an up-close and personal relationship.
My long strides bring me to the edge of Payton’s balcony in seconds.
I sat in that empty apartment for an hour after she walked away from the open door. Waiting for her to change her mind and close the door. To lock me out.
But she didn’t.
And I’m not a good enough man to stay away.
It’s barely midnight, but it’s a weekday and this is a relatively quiet part of town, so no one is around to see me climb up onto the patio railing of the first-floor apartment. Stretching up, I grab the crossbar at the bottom of Payton’s railing. The metal creaks under my weight, but like last time, it holds as I brace my feet against the brick façade of the building and walk my hands up to the top banister.
It makes me mad all over again, how easy it is to just get into Payton’s home.
She shouldn’t live here. She’s completely unprotected.
I lower myself onto the floor of her balcony slowly.
This isn’t breaking and entering, since she left the door wide open for me, but even if it was, it wouldn’t be my first time. And I’m sure it won’t be my last. Because as the saying goes, if you want it done right…
The damp, cold air flows past me and into the apartment, the curtains billowing the same way they did the first time I walked through this door.
If she makes herself sick with this little stunt, I’m gonna drag her over my knee and use my palms to teach her a lesson she won’t forget.
Not that you’ll see her again after this.
One time.
That’s all this is going to be.
One time. One fuck. One taste. Then I’ll demand she lock this door every night. Hell, I’ll nail it shut if I have to.
Taking a slow inhale, I fill my lungs with the fall air. Then I cross the threshold.
Standing in her home, I slide the door closed and flip the lock.
No turning back now.
