Naughty Neighbor - Lauren Runow Page 0,72

on my door a few years ago, I wasn’t worried about her stealing my heart. Her hair was a mess, she had a stain on the front of her sweatshirt, and one look at me in that seafoam-green towel left her speechless—and not in the captivating way. She was a fumbling mess, but it made me smile.

While she certainly left an impression, I wasn’t going to hit on my elusive neighbor, especially when she seemed to go out of her way to avoid me at all costs. Sure, she said the casual hello—when it was rude not to. And if my mail was left in her slot, she’d kindly send it my way.

Did I think she was cute? Hell yes. She had long brown hair, big green eyes, and a gorgeous smile, but I never planned to touch her.

Then, she knocked on my door the night of my party.

Man, her fist could have taken the thing down. I was going to say something witty when I opened the door and saw her hand still in the air, ready to rattle the steel, but the one-liner I had prepared vanished.

There was something about her then.

When she showed up at my door, looking a mess—yet sexy as hell—I knew I was in trouble. Her skin was flush, her eyes were large and bright, and those lips were puckered, drawing my attention to how full they were.

Now, I love to dress nice, and I appreciate a woman who does, too, yet there was no denying the way her breasts looked in that tank top and how the yoga pants hugged her hips. Yes, I always thought she was cute, but in that moment, something clicked.

It might have been the determined attitude she had. A woman on a mission was sexy as fuck. Then, I found out she was a romance novelist, and my intrigue level surged. She was the creative type, and I wanted to learn more.

I kept our greetings friendly, but every time I saw her in the hall, I’d spend the rest of the night thinking about her, wondering what she did all day in that apartment of hers. I wanted so badly to get to know her better, and slowly but surely, that wall I kept up, keeping her as my friendly—yet cute—neighbor, broke away piece by piece.

When I found myself in Lacey’s apartment, getting limejuice for the yoga instructor I had planned to take to bed that night, all I wanted to do was sit and talk to her, get to know her. I had a sure thing waiting for me, and I couldn’t have cared less. When I got back to my place, I cut the date short and ended up driving her home after one drink. I knew my head was focused on Lacey, and I wasn’t going to string anyone else along.

Then, she kissed me.

Holy fucking shit, did she kiss me.

Her lips were like velvety cushions, and her tongue tasted of wine. My hands caressed those curves I knew she liked to hide, and, damn, I wanted to touch them all.

Maybe it was because Lacey was a hard girl to read, but I fell for her cat-and-mouse tease. She wouldn’t just go out with me. Everything became a game—a series of us telling each other what to do and seeing if the other would go along with it. They might have been more friends hanging out than dates, but with each, I fell harder every time.

Lacey thinks we’ve only been dating a week, yet she had me at a ferocious knock on the door.

I thought she was as into me as I was into her.

Finding out the TikTok kiss wasn’t even her idea, I’m not gonna lie, it stung. Here I thought, she was finally giving in to the same attraction I’d felt all this time, only to learn I was merely the closest available guy.

I’m such an idiot.

I pull up to the cottage, needing to get away. Both of my sisters’ cars are here, and I consider driving off, but I have nowhere else to go. Plus, I actually like my family. Having them around isn’t a burden at all.

“What are you doing here?” Milène asks when I walk inside.

“Felt like getting away for a few. Why are you still here?”

“Wayne’s parents decided to keep the kids a few extra days. They’ll be coming up tomorrow.” She takes my duffel bag and puts it on the chair in the foyer. “You hungry? We had meatloaf