“I was checking to see if it snowed more overnight,” I tell Zen.
“It hasn’t snowed since before we hit the speakeasy last night, and you know there’s no more snow in the forecast for at least a week.” They stride to the front door, fling it open, and lean out.
“Morning, Sabrina,” they call as they step outside without a coat.
“Morning, Zen,” comes back.
“Hungover today?”
“Not at all. You?”
“I’m fabulous. Who’s a good puppy? Yes, who’s the bestest puppy?”
My front door shuts, and I can hear nothing else going on outside.
I can hear what goes oninsidethe unit next to me—including that toothbrush that still makes stars dance in my vision in the good way when I let myself imagine it’s Sabrina pleasuring herself with a vibrator—but I can’t hear what’s going on outside.
So I do what any sane man who’s obsessed with a woman he can’t have would do.
I pull on my coat, hat, and gloves and join them.
Under the guise of it being time to leave, naturally.
Both of them go silent when I open the door.
Sabrina’s in leggings under a thick, puffy jacket, showing off every one of her curves. Her eyes sparkle under the porch light. Her hair seems extra curly, and I want to wrap it around my fingers while I bend down and—
I clear my throat and lecture myself about respecting people’s boundariesagain. “Morning, Sabrina.”
“Good morning, boss-man,” she replies cheerfully while her dog lunges for me and rubs his fur all over my pants and coat.
Annoying, that.
Not the dog.
Being calledboss-man, I mean.
It’s annoying because it reminds me that the deadline I gave her to find me another way to ruin her cousin is almost here, and as much as I’m madly in obsession with her, I can’t bring myself to say the wordstalk to me about how you can buy this building back from me, even if it’s a nickel at a time.
“Ready, Zen?” I ask.
“Um, no. I haven’t had breakfast, and I’m still in my pajamas.”
“Guess you’re walking to work.”
“I’ll give you a lift,” Sabrina tells them.
“Perfect. See you at work, Uncle Grey.”
I don’t want to go to the café.
I don’t evenneedto go to the café.
For the first time in years, I want to linger closer to a woman that I still don’t fully trust, but that Iwantto trust.
Not her fault.
She hasn’t done a damn thing wrong.
