Page 18 of Never Your Valentine

“Ohhh, fun!” June chirps. “I’ll sing with you.”

“No thank you,” Annabelle and I say at the same time. We whip our heads around to stare at each other.

“Anyway,” Annabelle says. “I’m going to go get my stuff. I’ll stay out of your way. I just want you to know that I’m not here to change anything.” She takes the key and turns to go. “I’ll see you around.”

“Unless the building collapses.” Fingers crossed.

“He’s kidding,” June says. She gives Annabelle a miniature hug. “Let me know if you need help with your luggage.”

“I don’t have much.” There’s a sad note in her voice. “Later, June. Bye, Grant.”

June watches her go and then rounds on me the minute the door closes. “Oh. My. God. That was⁠—”

“Don’t.”

“—chemistry.”

“That was panic.” I slump into a chair and put my head in my hands. Of all the ways last night could come back and bite me, it had to be the one with legal authority and keys to my front door.

June leans over the table. “Your cheeks are red.”

“I’m moving. To Mongolia. I’ll live in a yurt.”

June nods. “Cool. I’ll tell your landlord.”

“You knew about this. And you didn’t warn me.”

“When was I supposed to tell you? I just met her this morning.” June studies me closely. Too closely. “When did you meet her?”

I push her face away from mine. “Remember when we were kids and I’d save you from Felix and Blake trying to mess up your hair or give you wet willies?”

“Yeah?”

“I regret every single instance.”

There’s a thump above us. I look up, remembering that I’m an adult with adult problems.

“At least the building didn’t sell to Ender,” June says.

I shake my head. “Nobody wants to live above a rage room.”

“True.”

I point to the ceiling. “She won’t either. And when she gets fed up enough to move out, guess who’s going to be there with a generous offer?”

We’re silent for a moment as we both consider that. I look around my business, the one I built from the ground up, mentally overlaying the space with a corporate sandwich chain. The bile is rising again.

June slaps me on the back. “Only one solution, bro.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t let her move out.”

Chapter 7

Annabelle

Grant Neverly is my tenant. I’m his…landlord? That just sounds wrong. And awkward. So awkward. He lives here too. We’re going to be neighbors. I’m cringing just thinking about meeting on the stairs or taking our garbage out at the same time. What then?