T W E N T Y E I G H T
T W E N T YE I G H T
- Oliver -
T he cupcakes were a delicious truce. Playful. Knowing. They perfectly captured the message. Sorry I was a miserable wench. Thanks for keeping my kinky secret. And I enjoyed every single one of them. Not only was chocolate a weakness of mine, but as I savored the light, creamy filling, I couldn’t help but think of the new kryptonite in my life and how much I longed to taste her sweet center again.
Plus, it seemed our nasty neighbor wars were over. As far as “Elaine” knew, I had something on her, so I was confident she’d avoid me at all costs from now on. Exchanging pleasantries with neighbors about the weather was enough of a nuisance when neither party had been a nightmare or revealed too much of their nightwear.
Shame about the fact that I was falling for her. The whole thing was deeply inconvenient. I wasn’t used to having a mess on my hands that I sincerely cared about cleaning up. And how much I cared was giving me chest pains.
Every time I thought about her, a surge of adrenaline filled me only to be followed moments later by fantasies of her baking barefoot in my kitchen. As if that didn’t make me feel like enough of a cliché, I wanted her to be at my beck and command. To dress up for me. To undress for me. To get on her knees, stare deep into my eyes, and then sit on my face and suffocate me with her thighs.
Most of all, I wanted her to not be my neighbor. God this would be so much easier if—
She threw the door open in nothing but a towel, and my dick twitched at the sight of her glistening collarbones. “I’m running a little late,” she said. “But the reason why is so exciting. I can’t wait to tell you!”
I opened my mouth to speak, but she wouldn’t hold still. She was buzzing around like a bumblebee drunk on nectar.
“Just give me a few minutes.” She popped out of view into the kitchen.
“I need to talk to you, Avery.”
“Hold that thought,” she said, offering me another cat cupcake. Except this one was orange. Like Simba. “I was going to give it to you later, but consider it an amuse-bouche!”
“I’ve had them,” I said, taking the plate from her. “They’re delicious.”
“Oh, you haven’t had these ones,” she said. “They have chocolate cream inside!” She scurried off to change and called back to me from the bedroom. “Our reservations aren’t till eight, right?”
I stared at the cupcake, feeling sick and ashamed of myself. Not because I ate three earlier, but because Avery probably thought she’d rid herself of the biggest pain in her ass, and I was about to spoil the illusion.
I glanced in the painted mirror outside the kitchen and thought of Dorian Grey. Enough . The worst she can do is slap you .
I walked over to look at the mess on her coffee table, but on closer inspection, I realized it wasn’t a mess at all. It was designs for the café, complete with neon pink polka dots, green scribbles, and cursive calligraphy so beautiful it appeared to rise off the paper. “I didn’t realize you were responsible for doing the chalkboard at the café?”
“It’s all me!” she shouted from the bedroom.
I smiled and sat down on the edge of the sofa to get a closer look. She’d been designing logos like a madwoman, and each one was more creative and eye-catching than the last. I must’ve been admiring them for five minutes before I realized I shouldn’t be so surprised her creativity stretched beyond the bedroom.
I picked up a gel pen and looked for a blank piece of paper while I tried to think of something clever to write like… I’d rather be slapped by you than loved by anyone else. I shuddered and tossed the pen down. Talk about a Valentine’s Day card that would never sell.
“It’s how I express my creativity,” Avery said, appearing at the opposite end of the couch with a tempting tangle of towel-dried hair framing her face.
“It’s not the only way,” I said, waggling my brows and wishing she’d just get dressed already so I could get this miserable monkey off my back.
“You didn’t eat the cupcake.”
“I know,” I said, bracing myself to break the news. “Because, like I told you—”
“Maybe you’re hungry for something else?” She let her robe fall open, revealing the delicate negligee I hadn’t seen since I unwrapped it next door. My mind went blank for a second as my eyes feasted on her breasts, which bulged out of the top like they were desperate to break free. I swallowed, reeling at the sight of her supple skin which begged to be squeezed and stroked and… “It looks even better than I imagined.”
She smiled, shrugged the robe off her shoulders, and then stopped. “Wait—what did you say?”
“I said it looks even better on.”
She stared at me with wide eyes.
I stood up.
She yanked her robe back up and closed it like she was suddenly fearful of catching a cold. “You better explain what you just said.”
“I’m trying,” I said, holding my palms up in silent surrender. “I’ve been trying.”
She shook her head and hugged herself. “Have you—? Are you—?”
“I told you I lived on the sixth floor.” Her lips fell apart, and I hated myself for wondering what they looked like in the shower with water flowing over them. “I’ve already had three cupcakes today and… I know about Elaine.”
The color drained from her face. “I’d like you to leave.”
“Don’t be rash, Avery. It’s just a misunderstanding.”
“It isn’t, though. You knew... You’ve known.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you.”
Her eyes turned into hot coals. “You gave me a leash !”
“That was before I knew you lived here.” I could see she was getting more upset, but I didn’t know what to do. Telling a woman to calm down was a trap I knew better than to fall into.
“You could’ve told me a million times.”
She had me there.
“You’re the cat guy?”
“What? No. I mean, I have a cat, but—”
She started shaking her head and backing towards her front door. “You’ve known I lived here since our first date.”
“I know, but it was too soon to say anything then. What if you were crazy? Or clingy?”
“Or sensitive to being lied to?!”
I should’ve brought a shovel.
She squinted at me like I was a stranger. “You opened my mail.”
“That was an honest mistake.”
“And then you Mrs. Doubtfired me!”
“Hold on a second.” I squared up to her. “I did not Mrs. Doubtfire you. That was an elaborate and calculating stunt designed to deceive. This was just a harmless omission.”
“You pretended to be someone you’re not and let me complain about you to you!”
“When you put it that way—”
“And you then you kept the secret so you could sleep with me!”
“If you’ll recall, I wanted to sleep with you way before we had secrets.”
“ We didn’t have secrets, Oliver. You’re the dishonest one here.”
“Fine. You want honesty? I’m wishing I ate that cupcake right now and kept my mouth shut.”
She gasped and clutched her chest.
“Would that be better? Enlighten me. Because I admit I haven’t exactly been looking forward to telling you I’m the guy who deliberately put a bookcase together at eleven p.m. just to piss you off.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I was horny and cranky.”
She scoffed.
“I never meant to lie to you, but—”
“You can’t help that you’re an asshole?”
“I wanted to tell you.”
She searched my eyes but looked away when hers started to water.
I took a few steps towards the door.
“You should have told me the second we got off the elevator on this floor.”
“You mean the day I found out you use a secret alias to buy lube?”
“Please go.”
“Can’t we stick with the plan?” I asked. “You still have to eat.”
Color burst across her cheeks and spread until her whole face was a burning tomato. “The plan was to go to dinner with someone who’s not a lying asshole.”
“That’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair is that you fooled me twice .”
“Avery.”
She pulled her front door open. “It’s not like you have far to go.”
“I had a stalker.”
She threw her eyes to the sky.
“Before my ex.”
The set of her jaw hardened.
“It’s part of the reason I move around a lot.”
She flicked her impatient fingers towards the hall.
“You don’t care.”
“Bingo,” she said. “And even if I did, how can I believe a word that comes out your mouth?”
“I’m not a liar,” I said, stepping into the hall. “I never said I don’t live next door.”
“Tell it to the cat.”
And then she slammed the door in my face.