Page 32 of Tempt Thy Neighbor

I lift a brow at him. “Really?”

“Really. That would require me talking to her, and I’d rather not.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask why not. I’ve seen her name flash across his screen multiple times already today, and I have been curious why he continues to ignore her calls. But I don’t ask. If I ask, I’m sure he’ll want to know why I’m ignoring my father’s calls, and I don’t want to get into that whole ordeal.

We’ve been living together for all of twenty-four hours now and have so far somehow avoided any confrontation. That could be because I’ve spent every moment I possibly can avoiding Sutton. Either way, I’d like to continue that trend.

If we can get through this store without killing each other, I’ll consider today a huge success.

When he asked me if I wanted to go shopping with him, I couldn’t really say no.

Our beds were delivered this morning, but we still needed the basics like kitchenware and towels. My car is already full of stuff, but I couldn’t resist stopping off at a furniture store to look at couches.

“What about this one?” he asks, holding up a pillow.

“You want a plain black pillow to go on our gray couch?” I crinkle my nose. “No.”

“Why not? It matches.”

“It’sboring.”

“They’re just pillows. I don’t even know why we need them in the first place.”

“Because they’re homey, and I intend for this apartment to be my home for a long time.”

“So confident you won’t lose.”

“Sure am.” I grab two yellow striped pillows and head toward the front before he can argue.

I have zero intentions of losing this ridiculous bet with Sutton. Might as well decorate the place how I like since it’ll be mine in the end.

When the sales associate gives us our total, I’m annoyed when Sutton slides his credit card over.

“What are you doing? We said we’d split everything.”

“Just making it easy on our gal Sandra here.” He shoots her a flirtatious wink.

She blushes, and I try not to gag.

“Do you want to schedule a delivery for an additional seventy-five dollars, or would you like pickup?”

“Pickup.”

“Delivery,” Sutton says over me.

“What? Why? Dean’s friend has a truck we can borrow.”

He ignores me and continues to set up a delivery like I’m not even there.

By the time we make it back to the car, I’m fuming.

“Let me guess,” he says as we load the pillows into the already stuffed back seat, “you’re pissed.”

I glare at him over the roof of the car, then slide into the driver’s seat without answering him.

Not even watching him fold his long body into my car makes me crack a smile.

We don’t speak on the drive back to the apartment.

---