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As I take a step towards the car, it pulls away from the curb and in that moment, I recognize the Bentley and its distinctive headlamps.
“Hey!” I shout, indignation pulsing in overbearing waves through my veins as I begin to run towards it, which would have been a bad idea even before the four shots of vodka.
I don’t like feeling stalked.
Apparently, he sees me for he pulls over, rolling the window down.
Grey…
I’m aware that the panic surging irrationally through my system has nothing to do with him, but I can’t seem to rein myself in. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
“You three have had too much to drink,” Grey replies, his tone entirely too measured for my loose cannon mood. “I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
I should be grateful, and I am, but his words still grate at me, making me feel watched, something I’ve had enough of this year to last a lifetime.
“Excuse me, but we’re on vacation, so we can drink whatever the hell we want. And moreover, it’s none of your goddamn business how much we have to drink! And finally, you don’t have the right to stalk women to their doors!”
The way he watches me curiously, showing no hint of anger, only makes me feel more out of control.
“If it helps, Indigo, this isn’t exactly how I enjoy spending my time.”
“Well, it doesn’t!”
“Indiiiee.”
I throw a glance behind me at Fran. Even before seeing her face, I hear the soft reproach in her tone warning me that I’m losing it. She tips her head, gesturing for me to come in.
Fuck.
I shake my head at him just so he doesn’t think he can get into the habit of stalking me to my door. His eyes glitter in the shadows before he rolls the car window up and drives away.
“Un-fucking-believable,” I sneer as he drives off, only to slow down just thirty feet away…
No.
…and turn into the driveway of the house next door. It’s separated from ours by just a short fence and as he gets out and slams the door closed, he shouts over, “Goodnight, ladies,” in provocation before taking out his key and heading to the back door of the house adjacent to ours, his gaze catching mine as he enters.
“Oh, my fucking God, he isnotour neighbor,” I groan as I catch up to Fran and Rami.
“Of course he is,” returns Rami. “Just our luck. Oh, and I know he’s one hot piece of ass, but if he comes over here without an invite, I’m gonna shoot him for trespassing.”
“Oh my God.” A thought hits me, making my limbs dissolve into a pool of jelly. “You don’t think…?” My palm reaches for my chest. “Carrie arranged this place for us. You don’t think he got her to make sure it was next to his, do you?”
“It does sound like something that brand of prick would do,” groans Rami.
“Do you think that’s why it’s so cheap?” asks Fran and my hand slides up to my neck.
We couldn’t believe it when Carrie told me we’d only have to pay $450 for ten days, $150 each, for a stunning modern 4-bedroom detached house with a private balcony overlooking the ocean and a fridge stocked with food when we arrived.
“You don’t think,” I mumble, “that Grey would have paid towards the house, do you? So that we could afford to live next door to him?”
Their silence and my intuition gives me my answer.
“Oh my God, he has no right to do that,” I say.
“Well, we don’t know he did,” replies Fran. “But I mean, it is kind of romantic if hedid. It means he really wants to see you.”
“Yeah, it’s romantic, if you’ve never been stalked,” I respond.
