Hate Thy Neighbor - S.M. Soto Page 0,11

music to a reasonable level and get back to painting.

Hours later, I take a step back, surveying the entirety of the living room, and I grin. The white primer covers the eggshell beautifully. Now, all I need to do is pick a color to go over this, once it’s dry, but obviously, that’s a decision for another day.

After I get everything cleaned up, washing and storing the paint supplies in the closet for later use, I make myself something to eat. I settle on the Adirondack chair in the backyard on the newly cleaned porch and watch the sunset. It’s beautiful, the way the orange and purple blend harmoniously.

I used to spend a lot of time outdoors back in the place I shared with Reid. At first, we’d share our dinners out on the deck together, doing exactly this, watching the sunset. I don’t exactly know when it happened, but at some point, we stopped doing those things together. We stopped enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, I got used to sitting out there alone with my dinner, wrapped in silence.

The only difference now? I don’t feel as lonely as I did then. It got to the point where I hated the dynamic of our relationship. The fighting. The avoidance. I think those silent, lonely dinners taught me how to be on my own. How to enjoy my own company. It’s exactly why I can sit here now, with a smile on my face, enjoying such a simple day and a simple meal.

This is the life I’ve always wanted. An independent one.

Nothing and no one can change that.

I tense on the chair when I hear the telltale sound of nails scraping against the wood, and when I glance toward my neighbor’s fence, I’m not even surprised when Max slips in through the loose board. I’m on immediate alert, especially since our last encounter didn’t go over so well, and he acted like I was a piece of raw meat he wanted to attack.

Max prowls across the lawn, his wolf instincts on high alert. As he gets closer, I start to hear the deep rumble of his growl. Slowly, I push up from the chair, and unlike last time, I drop to my knees and cautiously put my hand out between us for him to sniff. Either that or maul. It could honestly go either way, knowing how aggressive his owner is.

“Not this time, buddy,” I mumble to myself.

Max closes the distance between us, and a smile crests on my face, when I feel his wet nose poke at my hand.

“That’s it, sweet boy. There you go. I knew deep down you were a teddy bear, Maxie.”

He seems to enjoy the soft lilt I use in my animal talking voice, because he rubs his whole head against my hand, trying to get me to pet him. To which, I oblige, of course. He’s just too handsome not to. I scratch behind his ears and pet his coat. My brows jump into my hairline at how well-groomed he is. I guess I didn’t expect the asshole to be a decent owner, but I can tell by the lack of shedding, the shine of his coat, and how wet Max’s nose is that my neighbor is, in fact, a good owner.

“Too bad I planned on taking you away from your jerk daddy.”

A deep throat clears, jerking my attention away from Max and toward the source. “I’d like to see you try.”

The asshole in question is leaning against the fence, his forearms propped against the weathered wood, his gaze fixed on me petting his dog. A flush rises to my cheeks, burning the tips of my ears. I’m glad my hair is down to block the evidence of my reaction toward him.

Clearing my throat, I drop my gaze, avoiding those pewter eyes that feel like they brand me each time his gaze bores into me. “I was joking.”

“I know that. I’m not an idiot,” he snaps. The color drains from my face in mortification at his brash coldness. I truly don’t think I’ve ever met a bigger asshole. “And his name is Max, not Maxie.” His voice lightens. Hardly, but I can tell he softens his tone, just enough not to sound like an angered caveman.

You know the saying, ‘love thy neighbor’? Well, I’m really starting to fucking hate thy neighbor.

“I understand that. I’m not an idiot,” I shoot back.

I can’t tell if it’s the dark playing tricks on me, but I swear

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