1 Chapter One.

Ding, dong. I waited another moment. I was about to ring the doorbell a fourth time when suddenly the door opened abruptly and a guy appeared.

Hot dammie, he was shirtless and tall, very tall, at the very least 6'2 tall, am only 5'4.

Oh, now you get it.

A pair of sweatpants hung low on his very lean torso. His dusky pink tipped pectorals and chiselled six packs abs were glistening with a light sheen of sweat, and he was panting slightly like he had been engaged in some kind of exercise prior to me knocking, my my, me don't mind admiring the view. Just maybe I should knock on stranger doors all the time if this is what I'd be getting or maybe not, I have heard stories, not very good ones.

I'd gotten a glimpse of his chiselled face with eyes the colour of warm chocolate and very full pink lips, briefly when he opened the door before getting ah distracted, (I am only but human).

I looked up directly into the said chocolate eyes, I'd like me a tall glass of those, and he flinched. I totally get it, yeah I do, a lot of people react the same way once they get a proper look at my eyes. They are an an icy blue. On a black face. You'd flinch too.

I think its high time I introduced myself. My name is Ivory Spade, about the name Ivory, I think my mum won that round, like she had ever lost a round with my dad in anything. My dad is that whipped.

I have got this head full of the thick black afro hair, currently packed in some sort of bun, from my mum and the height too, you know the height of a midget compared to every other person. Thanks a lot mom. Not.

The only reason why I've got to really thank my mom is the fact that I got her beautiful oval face, with almond shaped eyes, a straight nose and pouty lips and her exotic colour, dad's words not mine. The eye colour however is all thanks to dad, a handsome white man who fell feet first, literally, for my mom. How that and the eye colour thingie happened, I don't know. My case must be one in a million. Cue sarcasm.

Another good thing I got from mom is my tiny, tiny waist with a sizeable curvy Instagram worthy derriere, yeah you think the ego is huge but the thing is that I might be overcompensating just a little because my bust however is a different story, at the ripe age of 21, I can still comfortably wear a bralette, that's how big or rather small they are. Growing up wasn't really easy, I didn't make it to the popularity status because of my freaky eyes, flat chest and let's not forget I was a nerd too (although, I personally prefer the word, smart. Just saying). Now, that just goes on to show how freaking mature teenagers are in high school. Cue eye rolling. And in case you didn't notice, am bilingual too, freaking fluent in English and Sarcasm.

A cough brought me back to reality, I discreetly brought my hand to my mouth to check for drool. When I was sure I wasn't drooling, I opened my mouth to talk only to be rendered speechless by the sound of a deep, silky voice.

"You can tone down on the contacts, you know". Rude, I don't think I am going to like him much no matter how much I love his hair. So black and shiny, does he use products? I will love some for my hair.

Making a note to ask him later, I sighed and mentally rolled my eyes at the FAQ "they are not contacts, good afternoon" I picked up the forgotten basket of baked goods, I'd dropped to knock.

"Am your new neighbour, Ivory" I offered the basket. A long slender beautiful hand extended and collected the basket. Before I could figure out what happened, I heard a soft, nasal voice. "Nice meeting you, baby can we go back". The hell?

Nope, I don't blame y'all at all because usually this is meant to be the other way round. I can totally see myself leaning against my door in a cute PJ and comfy flip flops looking down/up my nose (your perspective really) at this not so hot male specimen handing a basket of brownies or chocolate chips or even apple pie to welcome me to the neighborhood but no, my mother insisted I get to meet my neighbors and maybe befriend them, same mother told me that Jesus is my best friend and all the friend I need and now that I finally accepted it, decides that I need other friends.

Lady, pick your side and stick with it or just maaaaybe, it has nothing to do with you, I am just not a social person. However, I know, she would take back her words, eat and swallow them, then do the dishes too when she took a proper look at this particular neighbour but hey I have never been a snitch, which have everything to do with me having no siblings to snitch on but that doesn't count....

I looked up after my internal musings to see a beautiful brunette with a set of forest green eyes, wearing a man's big T-shirt, possibly Mr. Chocolate eyes and sporting legs for miles. Her big doe eyes and big perky bust looking unreal. I am not one to feel insecure but at the moment in front of this supermodel-ly creature, I am feeling like a super-potato. My ever not so helpful subconsciousness piped in, that's great because models are hot and potatoes are sweet and everyone likes sweet. Now, how is that supposed to make sense or even help anyone.

"Baby?" She was unwrapping a brownie, MY brownie and taking a bite. She ran her long fingers over his bare chest and I suddenly got an idea of what exercise Mr. Chocolate eyes here must have been doing.

"Oh, am so sorry for interrupting whatever it is am interrupting,I've got to start going. Nice to meet you", I extended a hand.

" Jason, this is Myra", he gestured to the possible supermodel currently wrapped around him. "Nice meeting you too", he continued coldly and the door was slammed in my face.

I withdrew my hand, thank God it wasn't it the doorway. " Bye a-hole", to which I heard sounds of moaning. Eww.

I have a feeling that I am not going to like Jason.