Page 5 of Love Thy Neighbor

She holds her palm out again, and when I don’t hand over her cell, she lunges for me.

I sidestep her easily.

She tosses her head back with a groan, her hands falling to her hips, where I can see her fingers digging into her flesh with frustration. I’m pushing all her buttons tonight, but I don’t care. I want to know what she’s doing on a dating app. The Caroline I’ve known for years has always lamented the lack of finding a real connection with someone. That’s not something you usually get on some dating app,especiallyone like this.

“Come on, Coop.”

“Don’t youcome onme. Stop trying to change the subject. What the hell are you doing on Dud or Stud? This app is like a breeding ground for douchebags.”

“Um, trying to find a stud, obviously.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to start dating.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what people do.”

“Why?”

She grits her bright white teeth. “Cooper…”

I raise my hands. “Just saying it’s a little out of left field for you. You’ve been content living that…what’s that saying you’re always spouting off? ‘Free and single, just don’t make me mingle’?”

“Yeah, well, things change.”

Sure. But not this. This hasn’t ever changed.

She’s been in about as many relationships as I have, which isn’t saying much. She’s always been indifferent to dating. Why is she going after it so hard now?

There’s something she’s not saying.

“Care…”

When she sees I’m not going to let her get away with a half-assed answer, she throws her hands in the air, frustrated.

“Because I’m lonely!”

There’s a commotion from the apartment next door, and I have no doubt the old, nosy broad living there has her ear pressed up against our wall again.

That’s the only problem with where we live. We’re in the heart of the city, and there are a lot of older folks here whose rich kids have set them up in this hot locale because it’s within walking distance of everything you could ever want. Which, in turn, meansa lotof gossip floats around here because everyone is bored with their lives.

Due to the fact that Caroline yelled it louder than when she asked for the Wi-Fi password, I’m sure half the apartment building will have heard about how lonely she is by nine AM.

Fucking mailbox gossips.

“I’m lonely, okay? Are you happy?”

Not by a long shot.

Not when she stands there wringing her hands together, her nerves showing clear as day.

Not with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

And not when her blue eyes are turning sadder by the second.

An upset Caroline is my least favorite version of her.

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