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“Really?” she asks, frowning at me like she doesn't quite believe me.
I nod, even though she’s right not to trust me. I have no intention of ever letting her live this down.
“Okay. I’ll tell you, but if you laugh…” I hold my hands up and put on my most innocent expression. She sighs and closes her eyes before speaking. “My gym instructor invited me out for a drink last night. I went, we got talking, and things progressed back to his place. I was about to leave before anything really happened, but before I got the chance, his wife interrupted us.”
“His wife?” I say, unable to hide my grin. She nods, frowning at me. “Why wasn’t he doing it for you?”
“Pardon?” she asks, bewildered.
“You said you were about to leave, so I assume he wasn’t doing it for you. Why not?” I ask with interest.
“Is that any of your business?” she sputters, her face glowing red.
I smirk at her. “I guess not. So, let me get this straight. He kicked you out onto his balcony when his wife came home? Wow, what a gentleman,” I mutter, resisting the urge to go next door and punch the shit out of the creep.
She stares at me, narrowing her eyes as if my comment was a personal attack on her.
“I'm well aware of my ability to pick terrible men, thank you,” she says, through gritted teeth.
“Oh, so, this isn’t the first poor relationship decision you've made, then?” I ask her.
She glowers at me like she can't believe I just asked that. Hell, I’m pretty impressed with my ability to offend her too. Maybe I should go three for three.
“Excuse me? I didn't realize that I was here to discuss my love history with you,” she snaps.
“I didn't realize you were going to be here at all, so I guess we’re even.” I grin.
I stare at her for a while, enjoying watching her squirm on my couch as she struggles to think of what to say next. She clears her throat, finding the courage to look me in the eye.
“Do you mind if I use your phone to call a cab?” she asks quietly.
“You went out with someone you barely know without your phone?” I ask. I frown because I thought she was smarter than that.
She glares at me like I’m the idiot.
“Do you think I’m that stupid? Wait, don’t answer that,” she mutters, holding up her hand. “I took my phone, but it’s still next door, along with my other things.”
“So, you’re just going to leave them there?” I ask, confused. I laugh because, for some reason, I find that hilarious.
“I’ll buy new ones,” she replies defensively.
“And a new phone too?” I ask, smirking at her.
“I’m due for an upgrade,” she fires back without missing a beat. “Look, can I use your phone or not?” she asks, her frustration showing. I stand up and walk toward the door, not answering her. “Where are you going?” she asks, alarm lacing her voice.
“To get your things,” I say like it’s the most logical thing in the world. “I feel it’s my civic duty to look out for you and to make sure his wife realizes she married a giant asshole.”
Alana’s eyes widen. She jumps up and stands in my way, but I easily sidestep around her.
“You can't do that,” she hisses, following me to the door. I turn around, trying not to focus on the way that top is riding up over her waist. “Why not?”
“Because I'm embarrassed enough as it is without her knowing that I landed on your balcony after her husband kicked me out,” she cries angrily.
“Put yourself in her shoes. You wouldn’t want to know?” I ask her pointedly as I keep walking.
“You also apparently slept with his sister,” she calls out after me when it’s clear her approach isn’t working.
That stops me in my tracks.
“And how would you know that?” I ask, more curious than anything else. “How did you get onto the topic of me on your hot date?”
“He asked me about my job. Is it my fault if you’ve slept with the whole damn city?” she retorts.
“I guess not,” I murmur, raising my eyebrows. I don’t bother correcting her on the number of women I’ve slept with. It’s not nearly as many as she probably thinks.
I walk out and down the few steps to my neighbor’s door and pound on it. I’ve never actually met this guy—or his wife—even though we’ve both been living here for the past twelve months. I am finding it kind of amusing that I’ve slept with his sister. I’m pretty sure I know exactly who she is too, and she wasn’t that good.
I glance back to see Alana peeking around the corner. I grin at her. Irritation flashes in her eyes, which makes me chuckle. You think she’d be a little more appreciative of what I’m doing for her. The door cracks open. I whip my head back around to see his wife—unless he has more women stashed in there, which wouldn’t surprise me—standing there. She frowns at me.
