Page 13 of The One Where They Fall in Love

I take a moment to admire her when she looks down to pet Thor again. I wish I could suggest a do-over with Elle. A version of our relationship that doesn’t begin with her screaming at me, where I’m not the bad guy she thinks I am. Maybe even one where I show her what it does to me when she rolls those gorgeous eyes.

I’m not sure what to say to her ridiculous proposal. My initial answer is no, because Elle really is a stranger to me. I shouldn’t leave my—well, Sophia’s—dog with her. But she’s right, she does live right downstairs. And as unreasonable as sleeping in the hallway is, it shows that she does care about animals. I don’t think she’d hurt him. And I have to admit it would take a massive weight off my shoulders.

She must take my hesitancy as a form of agreement, because she speaks before I have a chance to.

“You can drop Thor off before your shift, bring any toys he likes and food if he doesn’t eat,” she says. I can tell she’s trying to be serious, but there’s a hint of a smile on her face.

She gives Thor a quick pat on the head, shoots me one more satisfied look, and walks out the door. Thor comes over and sits in front of me and wags his tail innocently. I’m sure the look of complete disbelief is still on my face long after she leaves.

Seven

Elle

The irony of an extremely attractive man living in the apartment upstairs is not lost on me. In another world, Lucy and Liam could’ve been right—the whole neighbors-to-lovers set up feels like the perfect opportunity for a meet-cute that sparks a storybook romance.

Except right now, I hate him.

And I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

But last night—before or after I fell asleep on the hallway flooragain—I realized that fighting with Oliver Cole was the first thing I’ve looked forward to in a long time. His arrogance makes my blood boil, but sparring with him was almost…funin a way. It tapped into the kind of energy I’ve been missing since Lucy left.

Do I still loathe him for leaving his dog alone for hours on end? Yes. Do I think he shares some qualities with a beastly Disney prince? Also yes. But there was a moment, albeit fleeting, when I didn’t want to fight with him. I mean, he’s a doctor. A handsome, tall doctor. With nice eyes andmuscular forearms.

He could be…

Wecould be…

But he is infuriating. And stubborn. And I can’t imagine him being any other way.

When I open the door at exactly 5:59 p.m., Oliver stands there, taking up the whole damn frame. He’s leaning one shoulder against the side of the opening, with his arm outstretched, holding the top of the molding. The aforementioned forearm muscles are on full display. But that’s not the worst part.

He’s wearing a black Henley.

Neither of us says anything for a few seconds. In my mind, I’m trying to reconcile that I’m still in real life and this guy is still theworst, even though he is wearing the kryptonite of romance readers everywhere.

And he—well, he seems to be checking me out.

I watch him take in my skin-tight yoga pants and white sports bra. His gaze feels hot on my skin, like his eyes can actually send heat rays to my body. I feel my cheeks flush.Abort situation, my brain screams.Make an awkward comment or something!

“Hey buddy!” I say excitedly to Thor, bending down to scratch behind his ears. Oliver clears his throat, seemingly trying to focus himself. The dog enters my apartment without hesitation, galloping in a cute way that makes it look like his paws are too big for his body. Which they kind of are.

I turn my attention back to Oliver as Thor tries to jump on his hind legs to see out my very small window. At first I’m smiling, but then I remember that I’m not supposed tobe happy to see him. I raise my brows at the bag in his hand. He follows my gaze.

“Oh, these are some toys. He ate his dinner already, so I put a bone in there and some treats in case you want to give them to him.”

“All the essentials. Are you secretly a helicopter parent?” I tease, taking the bag from him. I place it on my kitchen counter, implying that he could follow me into the room. He takes one step in and hovers awkwardly by the door.

“I would have had a baby monitor on him the last few nights if the shipping wasn’t delayed,” he deadpans. I know he’s being sarcastic, but still, there’s a subtext along the lines of“See? I’m not a terrible dog owner.”

“And before you ask, the bone in there is predigested rawhide, so it’s okay for his intestines,” he adds, gesturing to the bag.

“Someone’s done their homework,” I say snobbishly. I hate that he brings out this side of me. I’m not a stuck-up person. I’m not mean. I just feel like everything he says, I have to have a comeback for. I’m not usually very competitive, but Oliver makes me want to be.

I change the subject. “So I’ll drop him back before I go to work tomorrow. About eight.” Oliver nods.

“Give me your phone,” he commands. I furrow my brows at him. “So you can call me if I don’t answer the door right away. I’ll probably be asleep.”

“Oh.” It occurs to me that I may not have thought this situation through. This seems like some kind of shenanigan I would involve Lucy in, and then I’d discreetly fade into the background while she figured out what to do. When sheand Liam had their “dark moment,” I threw her on a bus to Catskill and basically made her figure out the rest. Now I’m staking out hot guys’ apartments and babysitting their dogs. How did I get here?