Page 9 of Sweet Shots

“Oh, but you said it was important. I take important things very seriously, neighbor. Whatever this is, it means something to you. So you can be here at six and enjoy dinner with me, or you can fuck right off to your house and never come back.”

The sound that rumbles in his chest has my dick hard.

Fucking with him is going to be the highlight of my fucking life. How haven’t I learned this sooner? I’ve been living here almost a year, and though I know I annoy him, the way he does me, I never thought to do it on purpose. I mean, what else do I have to do with my life? A little entertainment would be nice. Something outside of sex, that is. Besides, my curiosity has piqued. I want to know what he needs from me.

“Fine. But I’m allergic to shellfish and nuts.”

“Of course you are,” I mumble, rolling my eyes.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Six o’clock,” I say before slamming the door in his face. I snap the lock in place too, just to prove a point, and I laugh the entire way back to the kitchen.

Allergic to shellfish and nuts. What a fucking nerd. I mean, seriously, who is allergic to both of those things?

Thankfully I only have to change the type of chicken I was making. I’d planned on making peanut butter chicken, whichis one of my favorites, but I swapped it to a lemon herb chicken instead. I still roast the vegetables and potatoes like I’d planned, so I suppose it isn’t too much of an inconvenience. And I can’t be mad about it since I did this to myself. It was my idea that he come over here for dinner.

The fact he was so annoyed yet so easily swayed tells me whatever it is he needs from me, he’s desperate for it.

As I set the table just right, making sure everything is in its right place, I realize this is the first time someone has come to my house for dinner. How pathetic is that? I’ve had a lot of people here for a lot of things, but never for dinner.

Stepping back and taking in what I’ve done, I smile, because it’s the perfect setup for a romantic date. Which is exactly what I was going for. Everything and anything I can do to make my neighbor uncomfortable is on my list. I’m going to enjoy watching him squirm, which seems to be something that is way too easy to do. Funny how awkward he is now when he has no problem flipping me off or scowling at me from the other side of the fence. Maybe there needs to be a minimum distance between us before his confidence wanes. Or maybe it’s all for show and he isn’t nearly as cocky or confident as he pretends to be.

It’s 6:03 and he still isn’t here. I stand by my stairs, leaning against the banister, arms crossed, staring at the door and wondering if he’s going to show or if he’s late just to be annoying. He said it was important, and I believe him. He came over here not once, but twice, over whatever it is he needs. Coming overnow will be the third time—if he shows. Yep, he’s definitely desperate.

It’s 6:07 when the doorbell rings and I have half a mind to make him wait out there for seven minutes just to show him who’s in charge here. Because it sure as fuck isn’t him. But my curiosity wins out—again—and I open the door.

“You’re late.”

“Yeah, sorry,” he says, sounding genuinely sorry. “CP got stuck behind the dryer.”

“CP?” I question, gesturing for him to come inside.

He steps in and says, “Captain Fluffy Paws. My cat.”

“You named that giant furball Captain Fluffy Paws?”

He turns to me with a frown. “No, the shelter named him that. I just kept it because why am I going to change his name?”

“Because that name is ridiculous,” I say, closing the door and walking toward the kitchen.

“Wow,” he comments when he sets eyes on the table. I turn to him with a grin.

“Nice, right? Went all out just for you.”

“Why in the world would you do that?”

My smile grows. “It’s the neighborly thing to do.”

His eyes narrow as if he’s suspicious—as he should be.

“Would you like some wine?” I ask.

“No thanks. Can we just get to the point?”

I pull a bottle of wine from the wine fridge, then pull two glasses from the cabinet.

“Absolutely not. I said dinner, you agreed. Have a seat.”

---