The hours couldn’t pass fast enough. All day, Armand had visions of his sweaty, semi-naked neighbour playing in his head, and he completed his housework with an enthusiastic vigour that would have made Mary Poppins seem lethargic by comparison. Yet when the time came to go next door, Armand became nervous.
Just do it, he told himself. The only reason you’re nervous is because you fancy him. It was true. Pretend you haven’t fallen madly in lust with him and get over there.
Armand took a deep breath, grabbed the bottle of merlot he’d put on the kitchen counter earlier, and made the quick trip across the lawn to Ben’s front door. He knocked. His heart started pounding. Footsteps coming towards him. The pounding quickened.
The door swung open and there stood Ben, looking like a vision in a
