“Itismy apartment,” he said. “If I want to run a brothel, I can.”
“Not legally!” I snapped. He shrugged, seemingly amused by our conversation. “Your tomfoolery is keeping me, a working woman, up. Who the fuck parties on a Wednesday anyway?”
“Tomfoolery,” echoed the very young-looking skinny guy sitting next to him with a chubby bald chihuahua on his lap, giggling.
“What are you, twelve? What is that thing? A tube worm on legs?”
“I’m twenty,” he said, offended. “And this is Greg. Just because he doesn’t fit conventional beauty standards doesn’t mean he’s ugly.”
My neighbor squinted at me and cocked his head to the side. “Hey, haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”
This fucking guy.
“I’m your next-door neighbor!” I wavered on my feet, the damn sleeping pill getting to me again.
“Easy, killer,” he said, sitting up to hold my thighs. “Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“Get your filthy hands off me!” I shouted. “I’ll call the cops if you keep this shit up!”
“Sweet Cheeks, I think the LAPD has better things to do than break up rich people’s parties,” he said, squeezing the backs of my thighs with a cocky smile. His hands were rough, and I hated that I noticed it. He was looking up at me so suggestively, basically kneeling in front of me. His eyes were full of mischief, and was that desire?
“Too bad we’re not in L.A.!” I hissed. “We live in Manhattan Beach!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, okay, hang on.” A man with a French-sounding accent stepped forward and took my arm. “I think what Mikey’s trying to say is that we’ll keep it down, and he’s very sorry. Mikey, isn’t that right? You were just going to tell,” he paused to look down at me, “what’s your name?”
“Jessie.”
“You were just going to tellJessiethat you’re very sorry.”
“And that she’s very pretty and is welcome to stay,” Mikey added, voice smooth as butter.
My blood boiled. The friend trying to smooth things over let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed his brow. I leaned down in front of Mikey. What fucking adult went by the name Mikey?
“Listen up, asshat, because I’m only going to say it once. I have to hear you having sex all the time as it is.” Mikey got a soft smile and gave a drowsy, drunken blink. “I am tired of staying up because you can’t have the courtesy to think of your surroundings. If you do not keep it the fuck down, there will be consequences. Understood?”
Mikey’s eyes made a quick visit to my breasts, which granted, were kind of in his face. “Thin walls work two ways, Sweet Cheeks. You think I don’t hear you and your little boyfriend?”
He lowered his voice, his gaze flicking down to my mouth. “Letme know when you’re ready for a man who can really satisfy you.”
My mouth dropped open. The nerve of this guy! The group of guys at large didn’t hear that last part, but the mediator friend definitely did.
“MIKEY!” he shouted. He turned to me and walked me to the door. “I’m so sorry, Jessie. We’ll be quiet and let you sleep.”
Chapter 2
Mikey
I wandered out of my room, the sunlight feeling too bright and my head pounding. A peek into my guest room showed Obi lying on the floor, spooning his dog, Greg. Guy was sprawled out on my couch under a blanket, looking at his phone.
“Bonjour, birthday boy,” Guy rasped. He set his phone aside. “Kitty says hi, by the way.”
“Hi, Kitty,” I grumbled. “Roles are reversed, huh? You’re sleeping on my couch for once.”
“Yeah, well, if you’d get a guest bed, I wouldn’t have to pretend to be you in college and sleep on the couch,” he pointed out.
My apartment was wrecked, cans and bottles everywhere with little spills trailing after them. It looked like the game of beer pong that went down at my island was successful.
I opened my fridge to look for something, anything, to touch my hangover. I settled on a bottle of kombuchaanda bottle of Gatorade. Would those be good mixed together? Couldn’t hurtto find out. I filled a glass with water for Guy. I was hungover, but still capable of being a good host. I set the glass in front of him and flopped down into a chair.
