Page 16 of Rival Season
We haven’t seen each other since she snapped at me for trying to help her out with Chad-dick, which was days ago now, so I was shocked to find her sitting there at the kitchen island with Ally. Doubly so when she thanked me for the gift and then asked me to talk…although right now she looks like she’s regretting that request.
“What’s up, Bubbles?” I prompt as I cross the room and sit down on my bed. I nod at the empty spot next to me, but Hazel stays where she is, hovering awkwardly and staring at my navy comforter.
“So, this is where you sleep and…stuff,” she blurts out, then flushes the same fierce red as the knit cardigan she’s wearing today. She looks cute.
I lean back on my hands and smirk. “Stuff, huh?”
“Nostuffnow, obviously,” she stutters, then looks away, her cheeks on fire. “I’m not here for…that, like all those other girls.”
“What other girls? Ally’s the only girl who lives here and she’s with Noah.” I’m playing dumb on purpose, trying to wind her up—I get the feeling a bit of banter will help her relax enough to tell me why she’s really here, because she’s clearly stalling right now.
My plan works. My neighbor’s hands go to her hips, and feisty Hazel is suddenly back. “There was a girl here with you last week when I came up to tell you to be quiet! Or have you forgotten her already, Playboy?” she demands indignantly.
I arch a brow. “You mean my sister?”
Hazel’s pretty pink lips form a perfect O shape, and I grin. “Now, if you’re done talking shit about my personal life that you know nothing about, can you please tell me what you’re really doing here? Because I’m hungry and kind of want to eat.”
She bites down on her bottom lip, still hesitating. Finally, she nods. “Okay. I, uh, need a favor,” she says with a wince, and I have to laugh.
Hazel looks at me for a long moment, stricken, before she huffs a laugh too. She slaps a hand to her forehead. “Okay, I’m fully aware of how ridiculous it is to ask you for a favor after I’ve just insulted you! I’m sorry, Penn. For being rude just now, and for when you helped me with Chadwick.”
“It’s totally fine,” I tell her. I wasn’t insulted—I could tell her accusations weren’t personal. She’s been hurt and doesn’t trustmen in general right now. And I don’t blame her one bit after what I overheard the other night from her piece of garbage ex-boyfriend. Weatherby clearly did quite the number on her. “Now what’s going on, Hazel?”
Hazel visibly deflates, the laughter in her eyes dampening. “Chadwick’s downstairs.”
My hackles rise, and I’m on my feet in an instant.
“Don’t let him in,” I instruct her. “I’ll go outside and get rid of him.”
Hazel shakes her head and leans back against the door, her curls spilling around her shoulders. “No, like, he’s already in my apartment.” She winces. “He just arrived, with a suitcase.”
“What?!” I thunder. “Stay right here, and I’ll go kick him out.” I march towards the door, but she holds up a hand, stopping me in my tracks.
“It’s not that simple,” she says. “The apartment I live in? It’s owned by his aunt and uncle. They don’t know we broke up, and they gave him permission to move in temporarily—he’s apparently going to stay here in San Francisco for the next several weeks, because there’s a PT here that specializes in his injury.”
The injury I gave him.
I can’t help but feel partially responsible. If Chadwick wasn’t hurt, he’d be contractually obligated to be in Sacramento with his team.
“What do you need from me, Hazel?” I’m suddenly very glad she came to me for help. I don’t trust that guy one bit, and I don’t like the thought of her facing him alone.
She peeks up at me—we’re standing a foot away from each other now, her body still against the door as mine towers over hers. “You know him, don’t you?”
“I do,” I say tightly.
“And you guys…don’t like each other?”
“You could say that.”
“I figured.” Hazel smiles tentatively. “And it gave me an idea. You see, he was really mad when he saw the headphones you sent me.”
“Of course he was,” I mutter. Jealous prick, only ever wanting what someone else has.
“So I was hoping,” Hazel continues, a blush spreading over her high cheekbones, “that maybe you’d come downstairs with me and pretend we’re dating like you did the other night. Just for a few minutes. I thought maybe that if he saw us together again, it might piss him off enough to make him decide to stay elsewhere.”
“That’s the favor you wanted?” I ask, my voice low. “For me to pretend to be your boyfriend again to make Weatherby jealous?”
“Yes.” Her teeth sink into that full lower lip of hers again, and I have a sudden urge to reach out and drag my thumb over her mouth. Smooth away those bite marks and see what those soft, full lips feel like under my rough skin. I push away the thought. My neighbor is gorgeous, and it’s been a while since I felt this attracted to someone…but she’s clearly not looking for that kind of attention right now.
