Page 3 of Rival Season
“My eyes are up here, you know,” I respond with a smirk as I lean against the doorframe. “You could always look at my face—not my fault if you can’t control your urge to ogle my body. And the name’s Penn, by the way. However, Playboy is growing on me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Penn, Playboy. It makes no difference to me. And it’s not my fault you don’t have an ounce of neighborly decency.” 2B’s scowl deepens. Meanwhile, Cassie’s head ping-pongs as she looks back and forth between me and my neighbor, and I know I’ll have to explain myself to her afterwards, but I’m having way too much fun right now to worry about that.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I step aside and gesture into the apartment. “Did you want to come in and join the fun?”
“I don’t have time for this.” The woman scrunches her freckled nose in annoyance before she closes her eyes—for patience, or zen, or maybe because the sight of me shirtless really does repulse her that much (unlikely)—and breathes in deeply. A few beats later, her eyes pop open again and she gives me a very, very forced smile through still-clenched teeth. “I’m trying to study. Your music is bothering me. Can. You. Keep. It. Down.Please.”
I open my mouth to retort. I don’t know what it is, something about this girl just makes me want to provoke her, but Cassie grabs my arm, yanking me backwards before I can aggravate my neighbor more.
“Yes,” Cassie tells the woman. “We can. And we apologize that the music was too loud.”
“Thank you,” 2B huffs. And without even bothering to shoot a last glare in my direction, she turns on her heel and strides away, her loafers squeaking on the gleaming tile floor.
“Miss you already, Bubbles,” I call after her. “What’s your name, by the way? Or should I keep calling you Bubbles?”
2B crosses her arms and groans before storming off towards the stairs. I smile as I watch her walk away, and I’m surprised when I hear her low voice call back to me, “My name is Hazel, but I’d prefer if you didn’t call me anything at all.”
I burst out laughing as I step back into the loft and close the door.
“What was that all about?” Cass asks, her brown eyes wide. “Who?—”
“Hazel, apparently,” I answer through my laughter, shrugging my shirt on. “She lives downstairs, and she’s always mad at us for one reason or another.”
“Sounds like the music was really bothering her.” Cassie crosses her arms. “And that she’s had this conversation with you more than a few times already?”
“It’s three in the afternoon, not three a.m.” I shrug. “Maybe she should lighten up a little. Or wear headphones when she studies. Wait, that’s actually a good idea. I’ll suggest it to her next time she comes up here all red and furious.”
Cassie rolls her eyes. “Sounds more like a death wish to me. Girl waspissed.”
“Don’t sweat it, I think she secretly loves our little sparring sessions. Gives her something to look forward to during her study breaks.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” My sister arches an eyebrow at me. “And don’t think it didn’t escape my notice that she was super cute.”
“Was she?” I ask innocently.
Of course I’m aware my downstairs neighbor is a total knockout. I have eyes. But as much as I dig 2B’s—Hazel’s—hot librarian vibes, I’m not sure she’s ever had fun before. It’s cool that she’s smart and all, but the girl has zero chill.
Plus, I saw her holding hands with Chadwick Weatherby a couple months back. I don’t hate many people in this world, but that guy is a grade-Aasshole. I haven’t seen them together since or noticed him lurking anywhere around the building like the garbage dump of a human that he is. I’m guessing it was just a one-off date or a temporary casual thing between themthat fizzled out…but it was more than enough to tell me 2B is a terrible judge of character.
Cassie jabs an accusing finger in my direction. “She’s gorgeous, and you damn well know it.”
“Hmm,” is all I’ll give away as we walk back to the kitchen, which looks like the spaghetti monster threw up everywhere.
“What a disaster,” Cassie says. “I’ll mop the floor if you clean the sauce off the walls and then we can just order takeout instead?”
“Deal,” I tell her, grabbing a cloth. “As long as it’s burgers.”
“Pizza,” she insists, and we argue back and forth about food as we clean up.
I think about turning the music back on, but for some reason, I decide not to. And when Cass and I finally sit down to our compromise meal—Lebanese food, which neither of us had ever tried before so was the only thing we could agree on ordering—I slide out my phone and place an order for some fancy noise-cancelling headphones to be shipped to the apartment downstairs…addressed toBubbles, The Grump In 2B.
I can’t stop smiling as I eat my chicken shawarma.
CHAPTER 2
HAZEL
The morningalways looks brighter when you’re in downward-facing dog. Even this morning, when I’m exhausted from working on my dissertation late into the night to make up for lost time after the noise in the apartment above me distracted me all evening.
