Page 9 of Breaking Free

His smile faded. Her message had been received loud and clear. She immediately felt terrible. He’d been nothing but nice to her. Piper the people pleaser waffled.

“Maybe we can grab that bite soon. Or, I’m a decent cook. I’ll have you and Josie over for dinner.”

“Either sounds great,” he replied, not sounding angry or getting snarky like some men did when rejected.

“Good. I’ll check my work schedule and get us on the calendar. For now, I’m going to call it an early night because the move wore me out. I’m beat.”

Piper smiled and gave a little finger wave, relieved when he returned the former.

As she let herself into her apartment, her thoughts turned from Hunter, a friendly, good-looking guy she really should be interested in, to Tristan, who she definitely shouldn’t. Apart from lending a hand with the trash bags and her boxes, the grouch next door had shown no other signs of being neighborly. But she couldn’t shake the feeling there was an untold story beneath his surly outer shell.

Still waters run deep as they say. What about grumpy waters? Maybe he needed someone to show him a little warmth and kindness.

“Who better than me?” she exclaimed with a smile.

A former high school cheerleader who was perpetually upbeat when most teens were moody, she’d earned the nickname, Sunshine, from the squad, and it had stuck. They’d put it in quotes under her picture in her senior yearbook. With a newfound resolve to get more out of Tristan than grunts and growls, she straightened her shoulders and went to wash her hands, already plotting her next move.

OPPORTUNITY TO PUTher plan into action arrived the next day in her mailbox. As she walked back to her condo, flipping through the stack of envelopes, mostly ads, she stopped at abank logo she didn’t recognize. The address was correct, but the unit number was off by one.

Not expecting him to be home, she knocked on Tristan’s door anyway. When it opened, she smiled and exclaimed, “Greetings fellow Midwesterner!”

“Excuse me?” An undercurrent of impatience kept his response from being polite.

He propped his hands on his hips, drawing her gaze downward to his glistening chest and chiseled abs. Her mouth went dry, and she found herself unable to speak, much less tear her gaze away.

When a second passed, he prompted, “I’m in the middle of a workout. Is there something you need?”

“I...um...” She stopped stammering and held up the letter. “This was in my box by mistake. I noticed the bank and postmark are in Nebraska. I’m from Iowa, your neighbor one state over.”

He took it from her, barely uttering, “Thanks,” as he stepped back to swing the door shut.

Despite his abruptness, Piper forced a bright smile. “No problem at all! Just wanted to make sure you got it. Have a great night!”

The last part, she had to call through the door. As she walked back to her apartment, she questioned Josie’s definition of decent. Did he hide his ill-tempered, closed-off manner when others were around?

“Even a professional grouch can’t be like that way all the time, I suppose,” she reasoned aloud, giving both her neighbors the benefit of the doubt like she did everyone.

Once inside, she kicked off her shoes, dropped her purse on the coffee table, and flopped down in a chair, flipping through the stack of mail again. She opened her electric bill and sighed when it was twice as high as quoted.

“Hopefully, it’s from this darn heat wave and not a trend.” Setting it aside, she went back to flipping.

On the way to the trash, she saw another envelope tucked inside a local grocery circular. She closed her eyes, groaning. It too was addressed to you-know-who.

Getting up, letter in hand, she walked next door, not even bothering with shoes, and knocked once more.

“What is it now?” he snapped as soon as the panel flew open.

“I missed this one.” With a sheepish smile, she held up the envelope, not finishing her brief, four-word sentence before he snatched it from her.

“If it happens again, just slide it under.”

“I wasn’t the one who delivered it to the wrong box. Grumble at the mailman, not me!” Tired of getting her head bitten off simply for being neighborly, she demanded, “What’s your problem anyway?”

“I don’t appreciate getting interrupted once, let alone twice, during weight training.”

She didn’t believe for a second that was it. “You’re still mad about the parking space.”

“That’s in the past,” he scoffed, his tone laced with indignation, as if offended she would even imply he could hold a grudge over such a trivial incident.

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