Page 77 of Loathe Thy Neighbor

He’s either screwing around behind this chick’s back, or he’s leading me on.

I won’t stand for either.

“Come on,” she says. “Let’s go grab something to eat. Then we can go for round two.”

They turn toward me, and I duck behind the nearest thing I can find—the potted plant I apologize to almost weekly because I’m always running into it.

“River?”

Shit. Busted.

I peek out from around the fern. “Oh. Hi. Didn’t see you there.”

Dean’s eyes are wide. He’s surprised to see me. “You’re home early.”

Yep. Sorry to ruin your date with my presence. I’m just the girl you kissed senseless the other night. No big deal.

I clear my throat. “Yep.”I’m here to see you.“Just got done with work early for a change.”

My eyes flit to the pretty girl, and I give her the brightest smile I can scrounge up.

She returns it, looking between me and Dean with curious eyes.

“I, uh, I’ve been meaning to introduce you to someone. This is—”

“Actually, I have to be…Morris. I need to take care of Morris.”

Dean’s brows scrunch together. “He’s fine. I just checked on him.”

“It’s a cat mom thing. You wouldn’t get it.” I brush past him and his date. I slip my key into the doorknob and twist, then turn back to the duo. “Don’t worry—I won’t wait up.”

I race inside my apartment as fast as I can, slamming the door closed and collapsing back on it.

What in the hell? Who does he think he is? Why would he be so nonchalant about it? Why wouldn’t he tell me he was seeing someonebeforehe kissed me?

My mind is spinning, and I take in a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself, but it’s hard.

I’m fuming. So damn angry I’m vibrating.

Wait…no.

That’s the door.

Dean shoves into the apartment, moving me like I weigh nothing, and to him I probably do.

The door slams back closed with my weight on it, and all I can think is this must be awkward for his lady friend out in the hall.

He towers over me, hands on his hips, his usually bright green eyes at least two shades darker.

“What the hell was that?” His voice is low, near a whisper.

“What was what?”

“River…”

“Dean…” I mock his deep tone.

Then his big arms are boxing me in, my back ramrod straight against the door. He’s close. So close I can almosttastethe cinnamon on his breath.

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