Right Next Door - A.J. Pryor Page 0,57

like remorse, and I’m still angry . . . hurt . . . embarrassed at being so easily replaced. I know I messed up, said something I shouldn’t have, but how could he move on so quickly?

I peek my head out of the door and over to his place. “No you can’t. Where’s Amber by the way?”

He grins, and . . . it’s sexy. One side of his lip curls up while his eyes brighten. I hate that grin. It makes my knees weak and gives my stomach butterflies.

“Most likely at home.”

He’s leaning against my doorframe and it’s making me uncomfortable. He’s too casual for the interaction we had this morning, too content with this conversation, as I’m getting angrier by the second. I’m feeling on the outs of some big secret and I don’t like it one bit.

“Did you need something?” I finally ask.

“I’m about to go running. Come with me.”

Is he crazy? “No.”

He stands up straight. “No?”

“Um, yeah, that’s what I said. Have fun.” Was he not on the balcony with us this morning? Did he think it wouldn’t bother me that he brought another woman home? I begin to close the door on him and he sticks his foot out to block it.

“Don’t steal my move, Offside.” I’m not wearing any shoes, but that doesn’t stop me from kicking at his Nike clad foot.

“You’re going to break a toe if you keep that up, Green Eyes.”

“So move your damn foot.”

Suddenly the door is opening and despite using every ounce of strength I have, he’s barged his way inside my apartment. He doesn’t stop as he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, continuing towards my room.

“Put me down!” Rage is boiling inside my blood stream. I want nothing to do with him right now and probably forever. My legs are kicking wildly, and my hands are slapping at his back. His grip on me is too strong and I’m much too small to fight against this.

“Ladies,” he says to Mia and Paige who are sitting in my living room, their eyes wide in surprise.

“I am not running with you, Damian. I don’t run with asshats!”

He spanks me. The cocky son of a bitch spanks me. “Don’t call me names, Addison. It isn’t nice.”

“Nice? You want to discuss nice? How about kissing your neighbor then bringing some floozy home? How’s that for nice?”

“Oh, that kiss was nice. What was even nicer was the sex I had with my drunk off her ass neighbor only to find out it was a mistake.”

“Well, Mr. I don’t do casual, you certainly blew that title right out of the park last night with your nice new girlfriend.”

“Yes, I did have a nice evening now that you mention it.”

All the fight leaves me at once. My body folding over his shoulder, my legs stilling their movements and my arms dangling down his back. He had a nice evening.

That kind of sucks.

All day I’d held onto a glimmer of hope that it wasn’t as bad as my mind made it out to be. That Amber was . . . I don’t know . . . his masseuse?

Damian slides me down the front of him, like a wet noodle who can’t stand straight. He holds me up.

“Nothing happened with Amber.” His arms are around me, his eyes searching for some sort of sign that I’m hearing him.

I look up confused.

“I know her from a long time ago. She was drunk and needed a place to crash. I slept on the couch.”

“But she was . . . practically naked.”

“I know. We have a past; she’s comfortable around me. But nothing happened.”

They have a past? Is that supposed to make me feel any better?

“A long time ago past, Addison. I haven’t touched her in years, and I’m not about to start now. Reed and I bumped into her and a group of friends last night, and we partied a little too hard. I really was doing her a favor letting her crash at my place, and this morning I was trying my best to get her out of there. When I woke up she was in my shirt, I have no idea how she got that way, but I hustled her out pretty quickly after you saw her.”

“She was . . . touching you.”

Damn, that grin appears again. “Only for a few seconds.”

“Get your running clothes on, Addison, and meet me out front in ten.”

“You know, you’re kind of an asshole when you’re angry.”

Lying in

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