Page 49 of Sexy Bad Neighbor

I sit on the plush leather of his BMW’s passenger seat, despite the fact I’m pretty sure my backside is caked with mud or, at the very least, soaked with rainwater.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, and he jogs to my car. I watch as he climbs into the driver’s seat and moves my Cadillac closer to the curb before killing the engine and heading back toward me. When he slides into the driver’s seat, he hands me my purse, and my brain finally kicks into gear.

“This isn’t your problem. I can handle this. Taking her to the vet is entirely logical. I’m sorry to have bothered you. I hope I haven’t ruined your seat. I’ll pay to have it detailed.” I reach for the door handle and he grabs my arm, giving me a squeeze to draw my attention.

“This is too my problem. That’s my goat, remember? You gave her to me.”

“But—”

“So I need to ensure she’s taken care of, and since you were actually there when she was injured, it’s only fair you come with me.” He doesn’t wait for me to argue. Shifting the gear, he does a U-turn in the middle of the road and starts cruising away from our houses.

We ride in silence for a few minutes, until he says, “So, you want to tell me about him?”

“Not really.”

“Why don’t you anyway?”

Hugging the goat to my chest, I stare at the rain battering the windshield. After that blow up in James’s office, I’m not sure what to tell him. The truth is, I am just like Bernadette, or I was when I was with Marcus. And I haven’t changed all that much, even if I am comfortable hanging out in sweats with Paynter when I’m not at work. But that meeting with Marcus proved I’m that other woman, too. The one Paynter doesn’t want to be with.

As if he knows I need time to gather my thoughts or maybe I need to hear someone else’s story, he starts talking.

“We were almost engaged. I had a ring. We dated for five years. The entire time, she was grooming me to be the perfect socialite’s husband. Except I didn’t give a shit about all that superficial stuff she cared about, so I wasn’t very good at following her rules. But I thought I loved her, so I kept trying and I kept failing, and our fights kept getting worse.

“In the meantime, we started house shopping. I had no interest whatsoever in moving into our neighborhood, and I sure as hell had no interest in the house I got stuck with when we ended. But at least I got out with my balls intact. My brothers were starting to worry toward the end.”

I smile, because I can almost visualize the conversation between him and James. And Garrett already made it damn clear how he felt about Paynter’s ex.

“Bernadette.”

“Yep. Queen B, as my siblings call her.”

“She picked out that chandelier.”

“Sure did. Wrote it into the damn purchase agreement that it had to be installed before she would move in.”

A thought strikes me. “You just moved in. So you and Bernadette haven’t been separated for very long.”

“Don’t get any ideas in your head, Chloe. We’re through. We were through for months before she walked out without warning. It’s been about four months since she supposedly moved to California. I closed on the house but didn’t move in right away. I debated flipping it immediately, but I knew I’d take a bath financially, and frankly, I just don’t give a shit about Bernadette anymore. So I figured I’d move in, live in it for six months or a year, and if I didn’t like it, sell it. Hopefully, I could make at least what I paid for it.”

He reaches across the console and cups my thigh. Spot licks his hand.

“I don’t regret it at all that I made that choice. I think I might be developing a thing for my neighbor.”

A thing.

He stops for a red light, and I stare at water gushing from a broken gutter on the building to my right instead of asking him to clarify what he means, mostly because I think I know and I’m not sure I’m ready to address such a complication. Since he moved in next door, my life has become so twisted, I hardly recognize it anymore. The strangest part is, I’m beginning to think I don’t mind. But admitting that out loud is a bit more than I can handle right now.

He gives my thigh a squeeze, and it’s my turn to share. I’m not good at this, at opening up, talking about my past. I’ve worked so hard to bury it; bringing it to the surface is a frightening prospect. But then again, Marcus showing up at my office, claiming James had hired him … hell, my past just slapped me in the face. Maybe talking about it will help me get my equilibrium back.

“Marcus and I were that couple Bernadette was trying to turn you all into.” I say the words very fast, needing to get them out, past the initial stumbling stone. And then it gets easier to speak, as if I’ve cleared out a dam and the words could now flow like water.

“We were together for almost a year. He was exactly what I convinced myself I wanted in a husband. Connected, from the right family, good-looking—”

“What the hell am I, chopped liver?”

Rolling my eyes, I say, “I’d define you more as sexy.”

“I can live with that.”

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