Page 4 of You Saw the Best In Me

“Oh, I’m getting my coffee order. Those delivery apps are a lifesaver,” she attempts to make conversation, but I blow her off.

“I hope my music wasn’t too loud last night, some asshole got on my nerves, so I was trying to make him angry,” she turns around to me as we reach the lobby, a devilish grin across her face.

“Not a bother at all darlin, now, if you’ll excuse me,” I walk to the door, ignoring that she’s not wearing a bra underneath that oversized t-shirt.

“Have a wonderful day, neighbor,” she calls out, sarcastically.

If she wants to play dirty, I’ll have to think of something to counter her.

The ball’s in my court, and I will spend most of my day thinking of ways to exact my revenge. That is of course, if I can keep her body off my mind long enough to formulate a plan.

KARINA

Ilove nothing more than a challenge and my smokin-hot neighbor might be my toughest one. I’d at least like to be neighborly and friendly, but he’s barely given me the time of day. His bad attitude is annoying, and his complaints about my music makes me turn it up louder.

I grab my coffee and breakfast from the tray in the lobby and push my grumpy neighbor out of my mind.

I’ve got an interview to prepare for, and my first order of business is to make sure everything is in order with my resume and cosmetology license. The interview is tomorrow, and I’d hate to look stupid by not being prepared.

I plan to run errands the rest of the day, do my laundry, and pick up a few more things for my apartment. House shopping is a great way to spend an afternoon, but my bank account could use a source of income after all the spending I’ve been doing.

This town is small, but it’s bigger than Rose Hills. There’s a shopping mall and chain restaurants, which is a relief. My friends wanted me to stay in Rose Hills, but it was boring. I’m a city girl and need my shops and food joints nearby.

It’s a great place to hide out; luckily, I have people who care about me one town over.

I quickly stop at the grocery store, grabbing essentials and easy-to-make meals. I don’t cook and can’t live off delivery food much longer. I also stop for liquor; tonight, I’m in the mood for something stronger than wine.

Ten minutes later, I’ve got my tequila and limes, and I’m heading back to my apartment.

Thankfully, Maverick’s truck isn’t parked next to mine, and I don’t have to worry about running into his broody, moody ass.

I carry all my bags upstairs in one trip, only dropping one this time, which is a small victory that I desperately need.

I pour myself a drink, turn up the TV to a trashy show Juliette got me hooked on, and throw together a chicken Caesar salad for dinner.

A few hours later, I hear Maverick opening his door, and I’m tipsy. I’m feeling unusually bold, and want to get under his skin. I grab my bottle of tequila and two slices of lime and knock on his door.

“What do you want?” he answers, slightly opening the door and peering at me.

“I wanted to apologize for the music incident. Figured after a long day maybe you could use a shot?” I ask, hoping he’ll ease up on the grumpiness.

“Fine. One shot, and then you’re leaving,” he says sternly, and I smile at him as he opens the door to let me inside.

I take a look around, noticing how empty his walls are. He doesn’t have any pictures hung or any artwork — typical man.

I follow him into the kitchen, which looks exactly like mine. He pulls two shot glasses from the cabinet, takes the bottle from me, and pours one for each of us.

I decide not to test my luck by clinking our glasses, instead, I dump the liquor down my throat and suck on the lime to alleviate the burn.

Maverick does the same, shaking his head and gasping.

“How’d you know tequila was my weakness?” he smiles – actually smiles – at me, and I feel my cheeks burning.

His smile is to die for, and his green eyes shimmer, making me weak in the knees.

“I didn’t, but I do now,” I wink at him, and his smile fades.

“Thanks for the drink, but I have shit to do,” he says, waving his hand toward the door.