Page 5 of You Saw the Best In Me

So much for small talk or pleasantries; that slight second where he seemed to enjoy himself is gone, and that hard exterior is back.

“Uh, alright. Truce, then?” I turn to face him before opening the door, hoping to catch his rare smile again, but it’s not there.

“No chance, kitten,” he growls, and I’m hung up on how he gave me a nickname.

Heat flushes through my entire body, and oddly enough, that one comment was enough to turn me on.

“I’ll have to keep you on your toes then,” I laugh, and let myself out of his apartment.

My pulse races, and one small encounter with him has me fighting off these girly feelings of a crush.

I pour myself another drink and flop onto the couch, thinking of how fucking sexy he looked in those work clothes, his hands dirty from whatever he does for a living. I think of how he called me kitten, a hint of seduction behind the word, and I can’t figure out why he said that.

He’s made it clear he can’t stand me, yet he’s giving me pet names after we share a drink.

My mind is spinning, and I take another drink, petting my cat all alone.

I realize I should be getting ready for my job interview tomorrow, not drinking tequila or daydreaming about my grumpy neighbor who hates me — but could also fuck me senseless – so I draw a bubble bath in an attempt to reset my mind, focus on what’s important, and sober up. The last thing I need is to be hungover before an important day.

I let the bubbles relax me, and afterward, I do my skincare routine and get ready for bed.

My mind wanders back to Maverick, and I groan, increasingly irritated that I can’t get him out of my head. He’s a bad idea, and I can guarantee that if anything were to happen between us, it’d go down in flames. There’s no high that could be worth that much pain.

Waking up this morning, I’ve been rummaging through my closet a hundred times until I manage to find acceptable clothes for an interview, even if it’s at a hair salon.

I dress to impress, and today, I’m wearing a black button-up blouse paired with khaki-colored pants. Simple, yet elegant enough for the occasion. I hope I’m leaving early enough not to run into Maverick because I need to focus solely on what’s ahead of me, not what I imagine him doing to me.

I kiss April goodbye, grab my homemade coffee, and head out the door. When I do, I trip over something left at my door, falling and spilling coffee all over myself.

Someone taped a wire on each door frame, assuring I’d fucking trip. Frustrated, I gather my shit off the ground and now, I have to go back and change. I’m cutting it close, considering how many outfits I deemed unacceptable and tossed to the side. I know I’m going to end up being late.

Maverick’s door opens, and he looks down at me on the floor, that smile creeping over his face again, and it’s right then that I realize he did this.

“Did you fucking prank me?” I ask, getting up and dusting myself off.

He’s still smirking but pretending he had nothing to do with it.

“I thought we called a truce, you ass! I’m going to be late for my job interview!” I yell and turn back to go inside.

“We never called a truce, actually,” he says, and I nearly trip over the wire again, which makes him laugh.

“Fuck off, Maverick. You’ve completely ruined my morning,” I slam the door, rushing to find another blouse that isn’t slutty, too revealing, or sequined.

Once I settle on a light pink sweater, I’m rushing out the door, skipping the coffee this time.

Maverick is cleaning up his stupid prank in the hallway, and I have choice words for him as I step around his muscular frame bent over the stain on the carpet.

“You better watch your back, neighbor. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s winning a war,” I say, storming off and leaving him no chance to respond.

Game. On.

He’s never going to know what hit him. If he thinks loud music is the only weapon in my arsenal, he’s got another fucking thing coming. There’s nothing I can do better than revenge, pranks, and pettiness.

I push the asshole neighbor out of my mind, driving toward the salon and putting on my best smile. The confidence slowly starts flowing through me again, but admittedly, I wish I brought perfume because I reek of coffee.

I get there right on time, but in my book, if you’re not early, you’re late.

“Hi, you must be Karina. I’m Alivia, and I’ll be doing your interview,” the lady behind the desk greets me, and I follow her to the back room.