The only thing that would make the Florida heat bearable is to watch sweat work its way down KJ's chest. KJ feels the same about his upstairs neighbors chest as well. They don't know it yet, but their personal opinions about West Palm Beach (cheaper than Miami, Princess thought if she was moving south she was moving *South*, KJ couldn't stand to be on the west coast anymore) have gone up +20 since they decided to start discretely ogling. Both of them have not yet noticed it's mutual.
The moment you open the front door you are disgusted.
"Why is the air wet? Like, how??" You mutter to yourself. The curls hanging down your back are going to be the size of Texas by the time you get to the car and you can feel your forehead getting oily. Unnecessary.
You clomp down the stairs to your car rather quickly in order to go from one air condoned space to another as fast as humanly possible. Air on, music up, car in reverse, you back out.
Oh, new neighbor. I finally get to see what they look like-- Your thoughts implode when the neighbor steps out of the door. Its a man. It is very definitely much a man. Hooo boy is it a man. And he's shirtless. There must be miles of tan skin on display, shoulders broader than your plus size hips, his back ripples with muscle as he locks the door behind him. Safety of his belongings ensured, the guy turns to walk out into the sunlight. Which, coincidentally, is toward you.
Holy fuuuuu-- He is built. Not the every ab on display because dehydrated on the verge of scrawny, but the solid as a wall type of muscular. Biceps the size of your head, pecs that make you salivate, and the shorts riding just low enough for you to spot the v shaped cut in of his pelvis under a thick middle.
And then he emerges into the stupidly bright Florida morning sun.
You whimper.
He is gorgeous. Chocolate hair, even brows under a handsomely just barely lined forehead, dark eyes with laugh lines, long straight nose, a perfectly trimmed goatee shot through with silver to outline a perfect set of lips, and a jawline like a marble counter.
God fucking damn.
CRUNCH
Your car lurches to a halt with a horrendous crash. The rearview mirror helpfully shows nothing but the tree you just backed into.
And walking sex dream latino Ken doll new neighbor just saw the whole thing.
You headdesk on the steering wheel in horny misery.










