Why didn’t I just kiss him?You can’t just tell a guy you hate him and expect him to want to kiss you, Gemma.
When we get back to Grams’s house, it’s already dark, but the house next door is a hive of activity, with music and laughter coming through the open front door.
I blow out an annoyed breath. “Gonna be another long night, Z.”
Never have I uttered more accurate words. By ten o’clock, I feel like I’m going crazy thanks to the constant bass beat making the floor and walls tremble. I can’t be the only one on the street who thinks this is annoying. But it’s not like they can call Beau to come lay down the law. It’d be a call to the mainland stand-in, which means the guy would have to cart himself all the way over here just to tell the neighbors to shut up.
I last as long as possible, but no amount of white noise is enough to drown out the drunken laughter and constant beat, so I throw off my covers and march downstairs and outside, Xena following right behind.
I’m not going to yell at them. I’ll try to channel my inner Beau and ask them politely to turn down their music. Of course, if I wasactuallyBeau, I’d probably be able to convince them that calming rainforest sounds make for a much better party vibe, but I’m Grams’s granddaughter, so a polite ask is as good as it’s gonna get.
When I get to the open door, I take in a breath, shake out my shoulders, and knock on it. I can see a few people in the kitchen, where the counter is covered by red Solo cups and various glass bottles. The volume of the music is such that there’s no way my knock will be heard. I don’t feel like I can just step inside, though, nor do I want to.
Luckily, one of the girls in the kitchen happens to glance over. Her gaze fixes on me, and she nudges the guy next to her. They talk briefly, then head my direction.
I smile, wishing mine was half as charming as Beau’s because that’s half his power right there—putting people at ease by giving off such friendly energy.
“Come on in,” says the guy as loudly as the music requires. He’s tall with curly brown hair and a cup in hand. I don’t recognize him or the girl he’s with. But given the number of people here, that’s not shocking.
“Thanks,” I say. I suppress the part of me that saysI’d rather shove my head in a blender.
The girl slinks her arm through his in what’s obviously meant to be a possessive gesture.
He’s all yours, sister.
“I actually came to see if you wouldn’t mind turning down the music?” I keep my smile intact because how great aneighbor am I! I even give Xena a little noogie to show what a great, playful mood I’m in.
“Huh?” the guy says, his face scrunched up.
“The music!” I say louder, tapping my ear. “Would you mind turning it down?”
He pulls the girl with him onto the doorstep and shuts the door halfway behind them, effectively blocking four of the five hundred decibels. “How’s that?” he asks, apparently very amused with himself.
“It’s still very loud,” I say.
“Okay,grandma,” he says, scoffing and looking at his arm candy to share in his amusement.
She smiles up at him admiringly like he just landed a knockout shot.
“Oh, believe me,” I say with a chuckle, imagining what Grams would do if she were here, “if my grandma were here, this would be averydifferent conversation.”
Xena pads over to them and sniffs at the girl’s legs. She shrieks, and the guy gives a little kick at Xena.
I grab the dog and pick her up—she’s no spring chicken—trying to keep my bubbling frustration in check. “Legally, it’s quiet hours right now, and a lot of people are trying to sleep since the start of the workweek is tomorrow. It would go a long way if you turned the volume down a bit.” I smile again to soften my words.
“Legally,” the guy says, looking emboldened by the response of the girl on his arm, “you’re on my property, and it would go a long way if you and your ugly dog would get off. Right now.”
My smile flickers. “I will gladly leave this property—which isn’t yours, by the way—when you get your music off ofmyproperty and every other property on this street.”
“And what’re you gonna do if I don’t?” He leans toward me. “Sick your fur ball on me?” He flicks Xena’s nose, and she sneezes.
“Don’t touch my dog,” I say through clenched teeth, setting her down behind me. “Look, your music doesn’t need to be this loud for you to have a good time. I’m trying to be a nice neighbor by asking politely, but I can call the cops if you’d rather do things that way.”
“Oh yeah?” he says, getting up in my face even more.
My nostrils fill with his alcohol breath, but I don’t back down.
“Do it,” he says softly. “Then they can arrest you for trespassing.”
