“Hername is Nova.”
“Nova, you’re such a pretty girl, aren’t you? Such a good girl too, huh?” Her tail wags rapidly back and forth as she licks the side of my face.
Standing at my full height again, a smirk slides on my lips as I lean against his door frame, crossing my arms over my chest. He takes a step back, looking equal parts disgusted and furious. “Cariño,looking all kinds of cozy, aren’t we?”
“What the fuck do you want?” he spits out.
“Just wanted to make sure my neighbor made it home safely,” I reply in my sweetest voice. “You know, since your car is still in my shop.”
As luck would have it, the tire he needs, we have to order, and he also somehow fucked up the entire wheel when he hit the curb.But he insists he didn’t hit it that hard.
When he doesn’t say anything, I continue. “You know, if you needed a ride to work in the morning, so you didn’t have to drive your rental in the snow—since we both know that isn’t your strong suit—I could take you. I’m nice like that.”
He huffs out a laugh. “I’d rather fucking walk, but thanks.”
“Aw, come on, Travis. You can’t still be mad I fucked your boyfriend, can you? How long has it been?” I rub a hand over my mouth to try to hide my grin when his eyes narrow on me.
“You’re such a fucking prick, you know that?”
I shrug. “I’ve been told.”
“And you, what? Find enjoyment out of ruining people’s lives?”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Don’t be so dramatic,cariño. You forget, we fucked the same man. I know he ain’t that fucking special in bed. I did you a favor.” With a smirk, I add, “You’re welcome.”
Blame it on his speed or the alcohol running through my system, but I don’t see it coming when he shoves me out of his doorway, slamming the door in my face. I stumble back, nearly losing my footing, but a laugh escapes me anyway.
He’s so fucking easy to piss off.
13
TRAVIS
Fuck!
Those twelve beers I pounded last night are coming back to haunt me. It doesn’t help that the daylight is pouring in from my bedroom window because I forgot to close my curtains last night before passing out. I didn’t do a damn thing last night besides get shitty drunk and feel sorry for myself. Vaguely, I remember downloading Grindr. I don’t even know why, because a random hook-up isnotwhat I want. The app was deleted an hour after it was downloaded, anyway, because I stumbled upon Nathanielandmy annoying fucking cocky neighbor on there.
Must be how they met.
It’s actually infuriating how good-looking Mateo is, and he knows it, too. He’s Mexican or Puerto Rican, or something similar. His perfectly dark, bronzed skin tells me as much, as does his accent. He probably bags a lot of ass that way. He talks to them in his deep, sultry voice, rolls his Rs in that undeniably sexy fucking way, and suddenly they’re rolling around for him.
Asshole.
It’s not only his voice that he’s got going for him either. It’s his eyes… they’re so bright, yet pale. Almost mint green. And it’s also the tattoos. They cover both arms and snake up his neck. He even has some on the side of his head, where it’s buzzed short. I just know if he were to take his clothes off, they’d cover every inch of him. He was mostly dressed when I walked in on him in my house—myoldhouse—so, that doesn’t tell me much. His beard is short and thick, perfectly manicured, just like his eyebrows. There’s a hoop in his nose, and his lips are plump, the bottom one more so than the top, and prominently red.Kissable.
It's no wonder Nathaniel fucked him. He’s the poster child for tall, dark, and handsome. How could I ever have competed with allthat?
My blond hair is chaotic, never sitting right. I’m sure if I glanced in the mirror right now, it’d look like I stuck my finger in a light socket. And my eyes are plain blue. Which yes, a lot of peopledoseem to like blue eyes, but they aren’t a shimmering mint fucking green that practically radiates off tan skin. And speaking of skin, mine’s about as pale as it can get without being translucent. I’m nearly as tall as Mateo, only an inch or two shorter, but where he’s all beefy and built, I’m lanky and lean. Now, for the sake of being fair, Icanadmit, I’m not totally out of shape. A vague six-pack is visible, and my pectoralsarenice. But still, he’s… absolutely everything I am not.
What the fuck am I doing?Comparing myself to a fucking douchebag? This is pathetic. And it’s not even the first time I’ve caught myself doing it since moving in here and realizing he’s my neighbor.
Rubbing both my closed eyes with my fists, I roll out of bed and immediately regret doing so. My head throbs, like someone’s playing ping-pong inside my skull. Except the ping-pong balls are rocks. My throat is so dry, if I don’t guzzle some water soon, I’ll probably turn to dust.
After taking the world’s longest piss, I pad out into the kitchen. Nova’s nails click along the hardwood floor as she waits, not so patiently, for me to give her food. Once that’s done, I refill her water before deciding I need some for myself too. I don’t feel like dirtying up a glass, so instead, I turn the faucet back on, sticking my mouth under it and drinking straight from the source. I’ve got back-to-back meetings at work today, but I don’t fucking feel like going.
So, I’m not going to.Today seems like the perfect day to play hooky.
The grumbling of my stomach reminds me that I never ate last night. It also reminds me of the Mexican food I have in the fridge. While I heat up the chicken enchiladas with beans and rice, I scour the apartment for the phone I’ve seemed to misplace. It wasn’t on my bed or on the floor beside it when I woke up, either. I need to let my boss know I’m taking a sick day, but it’ll have to wait.
