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“Work?” She eyed me up and down no doubt making assumptions based on my athletic shorts and ASU T-shirt.
“Yeah, work. You know the nine-to-five people do to pay the bills and shit. Or is that a concept Princess Petty is unfamiliar with?”
She shifted the dog in her arms and thinned her lips. “I know what work is. I come home from my job to let Yoda out during my lunch break. Some of us I guess are simply more professional than others.”
“Mayhaps or some of us work for ourselves and can wear whatever the fuck we want since we work from home.”
That red flush deepened and made its way up to stain her cheeks. No clue why she kept coming over here to embarrass herself, but my patience for this snooty woman was wearing thin.
“Anything else?”
“No.” She clipped out the answer then turned to walk back to her unit.
At least the sight of her leaving gave me a nice view. She had an ass on her. I closed the door and headed back to my task. I knew I could be a pain at times, but shit, I hadn’t even done anything to her, and yet she was full of nothing but annoyed contempt directed at me.
Giving her hell only made it worse, but she brought it on herself. Someone clearly needed to clue her in on the flies with honey thing because she was a large glass of vinegar with a lemon chaser.
A smile tugged at my lips as I changed tracks to one with extra bass and cranked up the volume on my stereo.
3
Lana
I’d spent three days trying to ignore the jerk next door. I’d gritted my teeth and refused to take the bait when he’d played his crap-ass music so damned loud. I knew he was doing it on purpose. He had to be, just like he’d turned the volume up after our last conversation. But there he was. Playing basketball across the street with the guy that lived there. Couldn’t they work out at the fitness center like normal people instead of using the portable and probably illegal rig?
I paid dues to have those amenities and because of that, there was a certain standard of appearance I expected my neighborhood to have. Cars lining the street and people using their driveways as a gym were not it. Maybe I should complain to the board. I shook my head, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. Even I wouldn’t be that much of a bitch. Besides, it normally was the guy’s kids that used it
and they always put it away after they were done. There was only one reason why it bugged me more today.
I tried to keep my eyes straight ahead as I drove past them. My annoying neighbor was annoyingly shirtless. He may have appeared to be lanky, but damn it all to hell he was toned. I pulled into my drive and observed the two of them in the rearview while I waited for my garage door to open. Mr. Annoying did some spin move around the other guy and went up for his shot, but it was blocked and knocked down the drive and bounced right into mine.
I parked and glanced back up to the mirror in time to see him drop his head, exchange words with the guy before trotting over to get the offending piece of equipment. He took a deep breath as I stepped out of my car. The action of him squeezing the ball between his hands made the muscles in his sweat coated arms and chest ripple. An intricate tattoo covered his left pec, moved across his shoulder, and stopped mid-way on his upper arm. An uncharacteristic urge to trace the lines tingled in my fingers.
He wasn’t body-builder cut with abs on top of abs. He was...sleek. Deceptively muscular with the hidden gems making themselves known in the most mundane of movements. And sweet lord, I needed to keep my eyes up and not even think about letting my gaze drop to the dark blue shorts that hung low on his hips. Or acknowledge the distinct imprint of some other deceptive part of his body that had been eye level when I climbed out of my car. Good gravy it was hot. My entire body warmed from the inside out with most of the heat pooling between my legs.
Numbers. Think of my numbers and not that, or him, in any sort of way. He was the loud music-playing, dog-hating jerk from next door. Not someone I should be cataloging images of as fuel for lonely nights with my vibrator. He bounced the ball once before tucking it against his side. “Go ahead and say it.”
I frowned. “Say what?”
“Whatever bitchy complaint I’m sure you have.”
Thank heavens for him letting the jerk free.
I walked to the trunk of my car to retrieve my bags. Bitchy...bitchy…no I would not let him get to me this time. After our last interaction, my neck and face were like a traffic light, which pissed me off. I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he flustered me.
“Why would you think I had any complaint, let alone a ‘bitchy’ one? You’re getting your ball to go back to your childish game.”
I grabbed my groceries, closed the lid, and turned to face him. A half-smile pulled at the corner of his lips. He ran his tongue across them and let out an airy laugh.
“Right.” He drew out the word which only served to annoy me more.
With a shake of his head, he walked off, bouncing the ball as he went. I would not acknowledge how nice those shorts looked clinging to his behind. Or the way his muscles moved in liquid motion as he dribbled his way back across the street. Adjusting the bags in my arms, I stood frozen, tracking his journey. He tossed the ball to the other guy. They exchanged a few words and when they both looked over at me I hurriedly turned and headed into the house.
Yoda jumped at my ankles when I entered. After setting the bags on the counter, I pulled a treat from the jar, picked him up, and fed it to him. “I do not find him attractive.” Yoda shifted, dropping back into cradle position so I could rub his belly. “He doesn’t appreciate your sophisticated and totally adorable appearance.” I brought him to my face and nuzzled him before placing him back onto the floor.
The comment about Yoda being yappy and rat looking prickled under my skin. Any man that talked about my baby that way—no matter how good he looked shirtless—was not worth my time. I could easily live next door to him and ignore him. I’d done well in the months prior until that blasted music made me crack. I’d simply have to double down on my efforts.
I smiled at the thought as I started to put away my groceries. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I saw the neighbor on the other side of me. I think she was an EMT or something based on the uniform. I’d thrown up an occasional wave when she appeared to be coming home as I was heading to work. The roommate I saw maybe a glimpse or two of when she would be outside with her dog. It wasn’t like I went out of my way to not interact with them, but life, schedules, things happened. Actively avoiding my annoying neighbor should be just as easy.
