I’m nothing overly beautiful. Medium-length brown hair that falls in natural waves. Light brown eyes that keep all my secrets hidden from the outside world. My full lips are a sweet shade of light pink since I never wear lipstick. A few freckles sprinkle my cheekbones. My skin is the color of barely-tinted porcelain, juxtaposing purposefully with the black tank tops I love to wear. My long legs make up for my 36B breasts. Regardless of how I wished for bigger boobs or prettier eyes, I never cease to have a stream of guys vying for my affections at any one time. So, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when one of my new neighbors took quite a liking to me. . . I’m sweating slightly Ümraniye Escort in the afternoon sun as I make my seventh trip out to my car. Just one stupid box left. Of course, it’s the biggest box and has managed to wedge itself in the very back of the trunk. I’m bent almost entirely in half, trying to yank it free when a voice finds my ears. “Having some trouble?” I give the box one final yank, then resign to straightening up. The good Samaritan standing in front of me was nothing at all like what I expected. He stood about 6’2”, blocking the sun with his shoulders. He was wearing faded blue jeans and a gray t-shirt that showed off his toned arms. Ümraniye Escort Bayan My eyes finally find their way up to his face. A crooked smile. Messy light brown hair. Gorgeous blue eyes. I give a little laugh. “Yeah, I guess. Just one stupid box, of course.” His smile is breath-taking. “There’s always one.” He starts to walk towards me. I move out of his way and he reaches in and grabs the box. He pulls it away with ease. When he straightens up, there’s another grin on his lips. I fake a scowl. “I loosened it.” We share a short laugh and I’m surprised at myself. I was flirting with this random stranger! “After you?” he asks, holding Escort Ümraniye the box as it if weighed nothing. I close the trunk and hurriedly guide him to my new apartment. He walks in after me, setting the box on the kitchen counter. “Thanks for your help,” I say. “Not problem,” he replies easily. “I’m Kaleb, by the way.” “Jess.” We shake hands. His grip is warm and not too tight. I’m somewhat thrown by his adorable presence in my kitchen. “Can I, uh, get you anything to drink?” I ask. “I think I might’ve brought something over.” I open the fridge and much to my dismay, find it to be completely empty. Damn, I’d left the boxes of groceries at my other place. Kaleb grins. “I’m good, but thanks.” I close the refrigerator door, embarrassed. “Sorry,” I mumble, “I thought. . .” He gives a little laugh. “No worries. Now I just have reason to ask you over to my place for dinner.” My heart begins to flutter in a frenzy now as I look up into his eyes. “Six o’clock?” he asks.