Page 48 of Only Lovers in the Building

“I bet!”

“Bella—”

“Your new girlfriend is pretty. Can’t she afford her own lingerie?”

If Lily weren’t naked under the robe, she would have ripped it off. She was breaking out in hives.

“Lily is my neighbor.”

“How convenient for you!” Bella spat. “You won’t have to leave your special razor at her apartment, and when it’s over, it’ll be like you were never there.”

Lily buried her face in her hands. She knew better than to get involved with a man post breakup. Or mid breakup, more likely. They were still collecting their things from each other’s apartments. The wrecking ball had swung, but the dust had not yet settled. She had to ditch this robe and put on some protective gear to keep her heart safe.

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Chapter Fourteen

The reason to avoid getting romantically involved with a neighbor was obvious: privacy. The universal right to privacy was the backbone of human dignity. How unnerving to open your door in your bathrobe to collect packages, only to encounter your crush out in the hall, looking handsome and smelling wonderful, on his way to work. How devastating to return home with bags full of groceries and run into him stepping out for the evening, unencumbered, ready to lend a hand. To avoid any of these scenarios, Lily pressed her ear to her door before leaving her apartment. A limited strategy—the elevators, open areas, and lobby were fair game. How long could this go on?

A few days had passed since the Bella incident. Lily had not returned to Ben’s place, not for coffee, not to borrow sugar or return a book, not for anything. He’d stayed away, as well, respecting her request for space when they parted ways after retrieving her key at the bookstore. There was such a thing as too much space. The gulf between two people could widen to such a degree that they never find their way back to one another.

On Thursday evening, Lily’s trained ear picked up the faint ding of the elevator down the hall, the familiar cadence of his footsteps, the jingle of his keys—then nothing. Pure silence. Lily had made herself a cup of tea, preparing to read in bed. She held the mug tightly, burning her fingertips. She knew without knowing exactly what was going on out there: Ben was staring at her closed door, fighting the impulse to knock as she fought a similar impulse to throw open the door.

In the end, common sense won out. He entered his apartment. She climbed into bed and called it a night until . . .

BookTap Direct Messages

@BenRomero → @LegalLyon

12:36 a.m.

BR: The first sentence is an insult to my intelligence.

LL: Ha!

BR: Lily? What are you doing up?

LL: You messaged me!

BR: For you to read in the morning. I didn’t expect you to be up.

LL: Technically, it’s morning.

BR: Did I wake you?

LL: No. I’m reading in bed.

BR: May I join you? Virtually?

LL: All right. Okay. Sure.

Although she’d consented to it, when the phone buzzed with the video call, Lily froze. One ring. Two. Heart racing, she sat up, ripped the silk tie out of her hair and straightened her pajama top. Her face was slick with layers of moisturizing serums, but it was too late to do anything about it now. She tapped on the icon of the videocam, and Ben instantly filled the tiny screen. He was at his desk and wearing his glasses. Her smaller reflection, framed in a box at the bottom left of the screen, showed that she was wearing forgotten undereye patches.

“Oh God!” Lily cried and ripped them off.

“Don’t do that on my account,” he said. “It’s cute.”

“Fat chance,” she replied, the patches already curling onto themselves on her nightstand. “I’ll battle my dark circles in private.”