Love Thy Neighbor (Friend-Zoned)(31)

That pisses me off. I spit, “No one needs someone like me.”

She looks saddened by my admission. She stands and walks over to me. We stand almost face to chest and she states firmly, “Nat does.”

Neither of us speaks for a moment. She tugs my collar and looks unsure as she says, “You just need to let her in here.” She puts a hand over my heart. “And here.” She places her fingertips on my forehead. “Don’t believe the things your brain tells you about yourself. Your worth is judged by what others think of you, not what you think of you. Just give her a chance. She’ll surprise you,” she finishes quietly. Then she takes the blood-stained towels inside and shuts the door behind her.

Sighing deeply, I head back to my place. Once the door clicks shut, I place my forehead on the back of the door.

I need a drink.





Chapter Nine

Swapping spit





Lying in bed twiddling my thumbs, I am this close to losing my shit. It’s almost midnight and I’m still a little shaken by Cole’s unexpected appearance.

I mean, c’mon! Is the guy freakin’ serious?

Did he think I would pretend the whole I slapped you so hard you fell off the counter thing didn’t happen?

Fuck that!

Once Helena ushered me to my room, she made me put in my mp3 player. So there I was, devastated and frightened, listening to Hall and Oates sing ‘I can’t go for that (No can do)’.

Not exactly fitting music for the situation, but once Helena realized what I was listening to, she enthusiastically burst into song and I couldn’t contain my laughter. We love Adam Sandler and The Wedding Singer is one of our favorite movies. When she finally joined us, Nina decided to back us up with the singing.

And, as expected, we totally rocked that shit.

So there we were, singing crazy assed eighties music, doing some crazy assed eighties dance moves and two stepping. I almost forgot about Cole til I heard him yell out a blood curdling scream.

Fucking Cole. He ruined my eighties dance party.

So Nina did the only thing she could do. Docked my mp3 player and put the music on full volume. I didn’t know what Ghost was doing to him and, frankly, I didn’t give a damn. All I knew is that Cole’s screams could be heard over the music, and the music was pretty damn loud.

It almost sickens me that I felt satisfaction bloom in the pit of my stomach.

Almost.

Ghost isn’t a half-in kind of guy. I know whatever punishment he dealt to Cole would’ve been bad. So bad that I don’t actually want to know any of the details. I’d probably ralph. You see, blood and I don’t mix well together.

Helena excused herself from the bedroom making our trio a duet. She was gone for around ten minutes. When she came back, I asked her where Ghost was and she said he went home. I obviously didn’t hide my disappointment very well because both my sisters jumped to his defense saying he was tired from work and mentally exhausted from having to deal with Cole, and it was probably best that he didn’t see me right then. Around ten, I excused myself claiming exhaustion and went to bed.

Which brings us to now. Normally, sleep and I are best buddies, but I’ve been counting sheep for the past two hours. My brain just won’t quit.

This ticks me off.

An idea crosses my mind and like a freakin’ compulsion, I can’t let it go. Huffing out an annoyed breath, I toss the covers off me. Slipping on my Minnie Mouse head slippers, I creep to my bedroom door and sneak down the hall. I open the front door and walk over to Ghost’s door. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and knock quietly.

Realizing all too quickly that this is a very stupid idea, I turn on my heel and swiftly head back to my apartment. I know I’m too late when I hear his door open. “Nat? Everything okay?”

Busted.

I turn to face him and utter, “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t realize what time it was, and by the time I did, I figured you’d be asleep.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

He leans his body against the doorframe and crosses one leg over the other. He’s dressed in his regular sleepwear of his blue pants and white tee. He makes it all too easy to make plain pajamas look sexy. His eyes search me long and hard as if he doesn’t believe me. I play with the ring on my finger and shift nervously, looking around for an escape when he slowly asks, “Wanna come in?”

Bad idea. Don’t go in. It’s a trap!

But my mouth decides for me. “Sure.”

What the feck, mouth?

Once I step into his apartment, I realize it’s the first time I’ve been in his place. The lights are off, but through the illumination coming from the side of the room, I can see it clearly enough to notice it’s exactly as I thought it would be.

Bare as the day it was made.

No sofa, no dining table, no TV. A wide bookshelf full to the brim of books sits in the place where the sofa should be and the wall closest to the patio has a long table with, I mentally count, one, two, three, four computers and one laptop. They’re all up and running. Some flashing while others beep. His apartment is like a freakin’ control room. The only thing that our places seem to have in common is that we both have a refrigerator.

I look at him and utter out of the corner of my mouth, “Not a lot going on in here.”

He glares through furrowed brows. “I like it just fine.”