Page 67 of Loathe Thy Neighbor

Dean’s face turns as deep red as my hair.

Lucy laughs. “I’m only teasing, but I am glad to see it’s finally happened. I always knew you two would get together.”

What is it with people saying that?

Furrowing my brow, I glance at Dean, and he appears to be just as confused as I am.

He clears his throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Just getting some practice in.”

“Practice?”

Lucy nods. “Roller derby.”

His brows shoot into his hairline. “Youplay roller derby?”

“Used to. I was a badass, too. Lawless is what they called me, because I was awful about following the rules.” She shrugs. “Now, I ref. I get to bust the balls now.”

I’m sure the Lawless nickname also had a lot to do with the fact that she resembles Xena with her long black hair and blunt bangs.

“That’s still pretty badass, especially for…” His words trail off, eyes growing wide as he realizes what he was about to say and how he’s completely helpless to talk himself out of it.

I might be enjoying watching him squirm under Lucy’s scrutiny just a bit too much.

“Someone my age?” she provides for him, tilting her head. “Just how old do you think I am, Dean?”

He swallows loudly. “I just meant…uh…I meant…”

She chuckles. “I’m only kidding. I’m aware I’m no spring chicken. Doesn’t mean I can’t have fun, right?”

She winks, and I wonder if she somehow overheard our earlier conversation outside because it sounds almost exactly like what Dean said to me.

“Right,” he agrees quietly.

I’ve seen Dean be a lot of things before, but never embarrassed like he is now, staring straight down at his lap and not making eye contact with our building manager.

Lucy gives me another wink and gestures toward the rink. “See you kids out there, yeah?”

She skates off like she was born on wheels, but neither of us make a move to follow her.

“She’s totally going to jack my rent up after that comment,” Dean says, staring after her.

“Nah, Lucy is way too nice. Proof: you’re still living in the building when you’re clearly being reported consistently. That reminds me…why do you thinkI’mthe one reporting you?”

“Because you live next door and I probably annoy you the most.”

“That is likely one hundred percent accurate, but alas, it’s truly not me.”

“Why not?”

I peek over at him, and he’s watching me with intense eyes. “I’m not sure.”

I’ve wanted to report Dean for the last several months, but every time I pick up my laptop to log into the system and file a complaint, I never submit the form. I’ve written up at least ten over the last year. All of them end up in the trash.

I don’t know what stops me.

“Is it that soft spot you’re developing for me?”

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