I had less than a week to figure out how I was going to get out of the mess I had agreed to participate in. But first, I needed to get out of my apartment.
A latte was calling my name.
I stepped out of my apartment just as my neighbor’s door opened and his girlfriend walked out.
“Hi, Lydia,” she said to me.
“Hi, Rose.” I looked at the open door and sneered at my shirtless—but too hot for his own good—neighbor. “Broderick.”
He smirked at me. “Lydia.”
Broderick DeVries—or Brodedick, as I liked to call him in my head sometimes—and I did not get along, and I tried to avoid him at all costs. About a month after he’d moved in, our complex had hosted a Super Bowl party in the common area, and he’d told me to my face that the dip I’d brought sucked. It was the first time I had met the guy. He parked in the guest parking all the time, making it hard for actual guests to find a spot sometimes. Also, he liked to play his music loud enough for me to hear it in my apartment. Most of the time, I didn’t mind, but it was still rude.
And don’t even get me started on all the women who came and went from his place. My heart went out to poor Rose. As someone who could stand to lose five or ten pounds myself, I felt bad for her. I loved my body and actually liked that I had curves, but not all women were as comfortable in their own skin as I was, thanks to stupid diet culture. Rose was on the heavier side and seemed like such a sweet person. Most of the other women I’d seen coming out of Broderick’s apartment were thin and attractive, and it appeared as if he preferred thin women.
I guessed I didn’t actually know that Rose was his girlfriend, but she was the one I saw most often. Plus, she was clearly in love with Broderick based on the way she practically swooned whenever he said anything. Cheating was just another reason to avoid relationships.
At times, I wanted to tell her that her boyfriend was a liar and a cheater, but I didn’t know either of them well enough. And if I told her, would I have to tell all the women? Did they all think they were dating him?
I had no idea, and I didn’t want to find out. I wanted to stay as far away from that dumpster fire as I could. I had told a friend once that her fiancé was cheating on her. She had ditched me and married his stupid ass anyway.
Not wanting to get involved was the reason I did the next thing.
“Oh shoot. I forgot something. Bye, Rose.”
I didn’t want to have to walk down the hall, the stairs, and out the front door with her and pretend like everything was okay.
I unlocked my door, stepped inside for ten seconds, and then exited again.
“I know you don’t like me, but you didn’t have to be so rude to Rose,” Broderick said.
I clapped my hand against my chest after I finished locking up. “I’m rude?”
“Yeah. Rose is nice, and it wouldn’t kill you to be nice back.”
I moved closer and tried to keep my eyes off his tan, muscular chest. Why an asshole like him was blessed with such a beautiful body, I didn’t know. Not only was he unfaithful, but he also didn’t seem to have a job. How could he when he was entertaining ladies all day? Where he got the money to pay for his apartment, I also didn’t know. Our rent wasn’t cheap, and he had one more bedroom than me. I had to wonder if he was one of those trust-fund babies—but obviously the black sheep of the family.
“I am nice,” I said. “And I don’t think you should lecture anyone on being rude when the first thing you ever said to me was, ‘Your spinach and artichoke dip needs work.’ ”
He lifted a shoulder and stepped out of his doorway. “Sometimes, the truth hurts, baby.”
“Nobody asked you.”
“I was trying to save you from embarrassment before everyone in the building ate it.”
“Oh yeah, because telling me my cooking needs work in front of all our neighbors wasn’t embarrassing at all.”
“It wasn’t all our neighbors.”
I rolled my eyes and inched closer. I jabbed him in the chest. “That is a lame argument. And maybe you should take your own advice. Rose is nice, and it wouldn’t kill you to come clean with her.”
His brow furrowed. “Come clean with her how?”
“As if you don’t know.”
He laughed in disbelief. “I don’t have a fucking clue as to what you’re talking about.”
I poked him again. “And that is why I will never like you.”
He raised his hands and shook them in mock fear. “Oh no, Lydia doesn’t like me.” He put his face close to mine, and I couldn’t help but notice how green his eyes were in contrast to his bronze skin and his dark hair and beard. “News flash: I don’t care. I know everyone else around here thinks you’re charming and sweet, but I know you’re not.”
I gritted my teeth and pursed my lips as I got closer. “I am charming and sweet.”
Man, does he always smell this good? No wonder Rose put up with his cheating ass.
For a moment, I let myself picture what it would be like to have sex with Broderick. All those muscles and those intense eyes staring into mine as he—
“Are you okay?” he asked me as he backed away.
I squared my shoulders. “Once I get away from you, I will be perfectly fine.”
He swept his arm out. “Nothing’s stopping you from leaving, baby.”
I went to leave but paused because I liked to have the last word. “Stop calling me baby.”
He smirked again. “Now, why would I do that?”
“Because I don’t like it.”
His eyes looked down at my chest. “Your nipples say otherwise.”
I quickly scanned my chest to see both my nipples poking out of my shirt and bra like an indicator on a Thanksgiving turkey.
“Ugh,” I groaned and stomped away.
I could hear Broderick laughing all the way down the hall.
It was only after I was on the stairs that I realized I had the perfect comeback.
At least I know how to wear a shirt.
I hated when my retorts came to me too late.
