11. Piper
CHAPTER 11
Piper
U h. Busted!
I didn’t even realize I was talking out loud when I must have said the words.
But no way I’m going to answer his very tricky question, I could never live down the awkwardness if I did!
There’s only one thing I’ve got to do right now, and that is shake myself out of this tongue-tying, slack-jawed, brain-fogging, starstruck state.
Yes, this guy is dreamy, yummy even, totally hot stuff, and definitely looking even better from up close, and I might have the mother of all crushes on him, but, boy, he’s such a jerk!
I mean, sure, I’m in the wrong for the loud music thing, but where does he get off, acting like he owns the damn place or, in fact, the whole world?
Only thirty seconds ago, he had such a thunderous look on his face, and from the way he was battering my door, I know he didn’t mean to flirt with me, far from it. He looked like he was on his way to deliver a harsh set-down, and that even after I apologized to him.
So why the sudden change in attitude?
And, let’s not forget the fact that I have no idea how he knows my name.
So now, Mr. Hot Stuff Next Door here, is going to have to be the one answering my questions, and I’ve got two for him.
One, where the heck did he learn my name? And two, why is he acting like he knows me?
But wait, thinking back on things, maybe he ought to answer another question first, and that’s the one I’m about to ask his rude ass.
“Excuse me, Mister, but who do you think you are exactly?!”
The giant jerk looks taken aback by my tone for a moment but then has the nerve to smirk –freaking smirk– at me.
My lady bits react to that lopsided, sexy smile, but I ignore them. They’re clearly stupid and don’t know better if they dare to respond to such a brute!
“You mean excuse me, Mr. Hot Stuff, right, Piper? By the way, the name’s Gage.”
I also ignore my stupid writer brain, thinking that that’s a fitting name that goes well with his growly alpha entitled self. Bruce, Dean, or Spartan would have been too tame for this demanding asshat!
Gage, on the other hand, is just perfect for him.
I put my hands on my hips and glare up, and up, and up at him.
How freaking tall is he, exactly? Or is my ass that’s too short compared to him?
I take a step back so I don’t get a crimp in my neck and keep on glowering. “Whatever! Yes, make fun of the little woman that came up with the stupid nickname for your ass, you patronizing jerk!”
He chuckles, and my vision just turns red.
“Listen up and listen good, you might be twice my size…”
“Thrice,” he mumbles, and I roll my eyes, speaking over him.
“Like I said, you might be thrice my size but don’t think I won’t Krav Maga your ass and then kick you in the balls if you laugh at me again!”
He raises both hands, still smiling. “Calm down, Demolition girl, I wasn’t trying to be a patronizing anything or laughing at you for the nickname thing…”
I glare at him. “So what were you laughing at?”
He shrugs. “It just strikes me funny that you have a nickname for me since I have one for you also…”
“I can imagine what that might be!”
“I don’t think so!”
I huff, stomping my foot. He’s making me act like a three-year-old brat, but I don’t care. “Do you always have to have the last word?”
“Pretty much. It’s kinda of a professional bias with me.”
“Whatever! Doesn’t matter! Moving the hell on! Like I was saying before you started with the whole male chauvinist laughter as if a woman can’t come up with sexist nicknames and only you men can, I was actually trying to make a point!”
“Well, go right ahead, Piper. Far be it from me to act the part you’re trying to sew on my ass, with very little information on it, I might add, and interrupt you…”
I growl. “Man, you are exasperating, you know that! You just did exactly what you said you weren’t doing!”
He chuckles again. “What?”
I look at the ceiling. “Why me? What did I ever do to you that you had to come banging at my door with this bullshit at seven in the morning!”
He actually starts to answer, and I stop him. “Never mind! I know what you were about to say, but you know what I mean! I had already apologized to you through the door, and you kept trying to bulldoze your way in! That’s… that’s…”
“Unconscionable?!” he suggests, and I purse my lips.
“Yes! It is! I mean, I know I was wrong putting the music on a bit loud at this hour and that I disturbed you, and I was rude in doing that, but in my defense, I didn’t know the apartment was rented, so I had no idea I was being a bother. But does me playing a song loud early in the morning warrant you coming loaded for bear at my door and pounding on it like you want to tear it down? I frankly don’t think the punishment fits the crime. You scared me half to death, you big brute!”
He crosses his arms over his muscled chest, and I pull my eyes away from all that heavenly white plastered cotton on his wet skin, hating myself for liking what I see as much as I do, even when I am this outraged at him.
“You done?” he asks.
I shrug. “Well, no. I also want to know how it is that you know my name. But you can answer my other question first.”
Gage sighs. "Why thank you, milady! I'm sorry I scared you. In my defense, I'm going to say two things. The first, will probably piss your feminist heart off, but I will still stand by it no matter what you say. The second will, according to my brief, but I think accurate assessment of your personality, mortifies you to no end, so I wish I could spare it to you, but seeing that I don't want for this to be the first and last time I talk to you, and I need you to understand how come I was so pissed, still am a little bit to be truthful, I'll have to say it anyway."
God, this guy is so damn infuriating!
I’m finding out that real alpha male types are hot on paper, it seems, but they’re a pain in the ass in real life. I had no idea this would be the case since they are such a rarity, and this is the first specimen I spot in the wild.
“By all means, Mr. Hot Stuff, don’t try to spare my sensibilities. Go right ahead…”
He lets go of this long-suffering sigh like I’m the one that’s been getting on his nerves. Unbelievable!
“Okay, then. First, you are right. I got pissed and was ready to come here and let you have it, but think of it what you might, that changed as soon as you opened the door. Not just because I recognized you, and I’ll be saying more on that subject when I answer your other question, but more so even because I don’t think that any man worthy of that definition should scream or be in any way violent towards a woman in deeds or words, no matter how rude he thinks she acted. Had you been a guy, I would have planted my foot in your ass, but since you’re a chick, that would have been a no-go even if I didn’t know you already. Now, for the second part of my defense… you basically think I overreacted, right? That my coming here in high dungeons and banging at your door when you only were playing Aerosmith for like ten minutes and killed the music immediately when you realized someone could hear it, warranted me having to calm my ass down. But what if I told you the reason behind me being fucking pissed all the way off at you depended on the fact that I actually moved next door on Friday. Yeah, that’s right… Friday! Let it sink! I moved in late at night after barely stepping off a plane from London after almost a month spent traveling all over the world and being based on Tokyo which is sixteen hours ahead compared to here for three weeks straight. So I had every nasty thing you could expect going on that night. I was suffering like a son of a bitch from air-sickness leftovers, from having been in a different time zone long enough to make damage, from jet lag symptoms and side effects from a medication that I took in the hopes of fixing things. And while that unpleasant combo kept me from even being able to stand up, I had to stay wide awake for hours until almost fucking five in the morning, staring at the ceiling while being tortured by some then-unknown jerk that put Pink by Aerosmith on a fucking loop at blasting-your-ears-clear-off-your-head volume. What would you say then? I managed to get my mad under control by the time I felt better, thinking that some fuck had gone wrong with your sound system or whatnot, and so I should let dogs sleep and give you a pass, only to step in the shower just now and hear you blaring that goddamned song again!”
My eyes become bigger with every word he says.
Oh. My. God!
This is so much worse than I could have ever thought!
How embarrassing!
He’s right, I’m so mortified now!
No wonder he came straight here as soon as he heard the music again this morning after giving me a pass for putting him through hell on Friday night!
I let air hiss out of my teeth, my neck disappearing between my rising shoulders. “Sorry?”
Mr. Hot Stuff gives me a look that’s so intense it almost singes the clothes right off my body and then takes a step my way.
Oh boy.