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“Ohhhh… I don’t think I’ve seen her before, that’s you?”

“In the sense that she’s off limits toyou…yes,” I answered, then started walking off, determined now to find her.

After weeks of avoidance, I didn’t believe for a second that it was just “by chance” that we’d run into each other at a damn hardware store.

At the main aisle, I stopped and thought about it for a moment, searching my brain for facts that might lead me to where she was hiding out – assuming she hadn’t left the store.

More likely than not, it was something for her apartment, but with it being an older building, there were myriad possibilities for things needing to be fixed.

Wedidhave a little breaker overload – electricians were coming out later today to make sure it didn’t happen again – but in the meantime… we’d lost air conditioning last night.

Which meant using fans, open windows…

Did she say something to me about her windows being hard to open that night I came over?

I couldn’t remember.

But… I had a hunch.

I followed said hunch toHOME MAINTENANCE– weather stripping, draft stoppers, the random size batteries, and… silicon spray.

And there she was.

“Got yourself a sticky situation, neighbor?!” I called, and she didn’t look up, but her grip on the can she’d been reading tightened.

Realbad.

“I’ve got a can of this already – you could’ve borrowed mine,” I told her as I approached, and she finally gave me her attention, via thefakestof fake smiles.

“Calvin, Hi. Funny running into you here,” she gritted through her teeth as I frowned.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re amused at all. You seem pretty horrified, actually.”

“Do I?!” she asked, high-pitched as fuck.

“You do!!” I answered back at a similar pitch, making her drop the fake smile.

“Okay – so if youseethat I don’t want to be bothered,whyare you doing it anyway?”

“Speaking to my neighbor isbothering?”

She pointed the can at me like a weapon. “Now you know damn well you came to do more than speak. This is borderline stalking, actually.”

“I was here first.”

“And youfollowedme overhere,” she countered. “Now what?”

“You know what – now nothing,” I shrugged. “You want to be pissed at me for… whatever you’ve decided I did wrong, what-the-fuck-ever.”

“I’ve never said you did something wrong!”

“Well you’re sure as shit acting like it,” I told her. “As if you didn’t want to fuck too.”

“Ididn’t!” she countered, and my eyes went wide, hand to my chest, head drawn back—“Wait,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t mean that likethat,” she sighed. “I’m saying…shit,” she huffed, moving closer so we could lower our voices. “Listen… I’m not mad atyou, I’m mad atme, okay?” she explained. “Are you hot? Yes. Was I curious what your dick was like? Also yes. But was I even remotely ready to be doing what we did, fresh off a breakup?Hell no. And the only reason I did was because Hunter had pissed me off. Whichreallypisses me off. But again –notat you. At myself, for being so freaking reactionary, and I just…oh my Goood!” she… shrieked?

Growled?

Whimpered?