Romance with Mr. Grumpy Pants: A Witty, Opposites Attract, Enemies to Lovers, Next Door Neighbor, Sw

5. Jessica

I sit in front of my work desk, boiling over with anger. The small clock on the desk beeps at 1:30 am. Who drums this late at night? It’s so thunderous, closing my windows doesn’t make a difference.

I tap my fingers on the keyboard, but I type gibberish. Nothing makes sense in my delirium. I know I can’t be the only one infuriated by Brian’s inconsiderate behavior. The crashes and booms are more deafening than it had been in the afternoon. It’s like a clubhouse next door, a royal pain in my behind.

What’s wrong with him? What’s wrong with everyone around here? Why isn’t anyone else saying anything? Are they all super fans of his, unphased?

I’m certain he’s deliberately trying to get on my nerves. Or worse, he doesn’t care if he gets on my nerves.

Suddenly, the drumming stops. I wait. One second. Two. Nothing. Not even a lingering echo.

“Finally.” I let out a sigh of relief. “Now, I can get some work done around here.”

I press delete, clearing the nonsense I spewed earlier. Where do I begin? My fingers hover over the keyboard.

’You sure about this?’ Bella asks. I stare like a deer in headlights at the question on the screen. There’s something not quite right about the words. Backspace, backspace, backspace. I clear everything. I’m on the verge of typing something else when a loud clang startles me. I jerk backward.

Grrrrr.

And just like that, the clubhouse resumes.

I rake my fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp to release the tension. It’s evident he’s out to get me. I shut down my computer. There’s no use staring at a blank screen for hours when I can’t concentrate.

No matter how hard I try to drown the noise out, it proves futile. I can’t wait for it to be morning already. Does he want attention? I’ll give him just that.

My chair screeches behind me as I saunter to the room opposite mine, Lily’s room. I’m positive the loud noise woke her up. I crack the door open, peering inside first to be sure.

She’s curled in a fetal position, deep in sleep. Lucky her. How can she sleep with all this ruckus? I shut the door as quietly as possible and return to my bedroom.

I’m trapped between sleep and consciousness for the rest of the night, huffing and puffing until the first streaks of sunlight peek through my window. I remain in bed for a little longer.

My phone buzzes to life. I throw the pillow off my face and roll over to pick it up. It’s a text message from Gina.

“Rise and shine, Jess. Hope the story is coming along.”

Thanks, cousin. What an absolutely pleasant way to greet someone first thing in the morning. I roll my eyes and swipe, ignoring the text. I compose myself and head out of the room.

Lily is already up. “Mom?”

I turn. She’s standing in the living room, rubbing her eyes with the back of her palms.

“Hey, baby.”

She walks over and wraps her little arms around my waist. I run my fingers through her hair.

“Are you going out, Mommy?”

“Yes, baby. I gotta take care of something.” I bend to peck her cheek. “Go on and brush your teeth. I’m just going next door for a minute, and I’ll be back to get your bath ready.”

Once she lets go, I dart outside, shutting the door behind me. Tapping my feet, I knock as loudly as I can. He shouldn’t be getting any sleep anyway. Not after he made sure I had none.

No response.

I knock again, waiting impatiently for him to show up. When he doesn’t respond a few seconds later, I start pounding. Finally, the door inches open. I square my shoulders, but I’m not quite prepared for what follows…

Wearing only pajamas from the waist down, his shirtless stance gives me a full view of his ripped abs. Nope. I’m not falling for his tactic this time.

“I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t drum anymore?”

“Well, hello, neighbor. How was your night?”

“You have some nerve,” I say. “You drummed all night long!”

“You’re welcome. What part did you enjoy the most?” His lips curl into a smug smile.

I grit my teeth. “What is wrong with you?” I shout in disbelief.

“Well, that’s straight-up rude,” he counters.

“What’s rude is your music keeping me awake all night. You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

He sounds polite, but the sarcasm in his tone is as clear as the smirk on his face. “What are you talking about?”

“You were outraged about me scolding you for drumming yesterday, so you decided to play last night to get under my skin…get the ultimate revenge.”

“You think your anger matters to me that much?” He chuckles.

“You know it does. You were acting out.”

“And you feel the best response is to beat my door down again?” He scoffs. “Smart.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, Brian.”

His eyes widen at the mention of his name.

“Someone did her homework.”

“You know I’m right. You’re acting like a child throwing a tantrum, a bully even.”

“What do you want, Jessica Walsh?”

Stop drumming!

I take a deep breath. Asking him to stop drumming altogether would make me seem selfish. For a second, I wonder what it would feel like if someone asked me to stop writing. But at this point, I don’t care.

“I would like you to stop disturbing the neighborhood’s peace, especially in the middle of the night.”

“I thought as much.” He narrows his eyes. “Well, I have a request of my own. A deal if you may.”

“I’m not here to strike a deal with a grouch.”

“I guess we’re done here, then.”

He tugs his pajamas over his stomach and crosses his arms, his biceps rippling with the movement.

I hesitate. “What do you want?”

“It’s simple.” He steps aside and swings his door open. “I’ll stop with the drumming if you help me unpack.”

I throw my hands on my hips. “What? You can’t possibly mean that.”

“The ball’s in your court. Help me unpack, and I’ll consider your request.”

Consider? Clever. Well played, bully. Coming in yesterday and grating on my nerves. Now, he’s offering a deal to benefit himself. Whatever his plan is, I’m not entertaining it.

“So, what do you say?” he asks.

I examine the weird grin on his face. God only knows what he’s got in all those boxes.

“Nope.”

I turn and march back home.

Lily is still in the bathroom when I get inside, so I help her with a quick bath. Preparing breakfast doesn’t take up as much time as it did yesterday. In a matter of minutes, I pack her lunch and toast waffles.

She sits across from me at the table, drizzling syrup over her waffles. She steals a glance at me, a naughty glint in her eyes.

“What’s the matter, honey?” I ask.

“You went over to see the new neighbor this morning, didn’t you?”

“Lily!”

“I saw you two talking on his front porch.”

“Yeah, I went over to talk to him.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t go with any cookies. My teacher says it’s not nice to welcome a guest empty-handed.”

“Trust me, your teacher doesn’t know what I’m dealing with.”

“The kids at school do. They say our new neighbor is a celebrity!”

Celebrity?Of what exactly? Sarcasm? Noise? Biggest grouch?Whatever.

“Eat your waffles, Lily. The bus will be here any minute now.”

I can see she wants to know more, but we eat the rest of breakfast in silence until Big Jim honks the horn and Lily has to leave. I send her off and make my way to my bedroom, immediately plopping on the desk chair once there. It’ll be wiser to work now that Mr. Grumpy Pants isn’t drumming.

My lock screen wallpaper is a live theme of my calendar for the week. The reminder is marked in bold font just a few days from today: TURN IN THE FINAL CHAPTERS.

Get it together, Jess.

Time is running out. Everything I’ve written so far feels wrong. I’ll need more than one hour of writing sessions to finish this novel perfectly, something I can’t get if my ‘celebrity’ neighbor doesn’t stop with his late-night shenanigans.

Hmm.He did offer me a deal, though. Maybe I should surrender and help him unpack. I applaud his clever scheme. What a way to get me to do his scut work without him raising a finger.