Trouble Next Door (Sweet Fortuity Book 2)

by Rica Grayson

  I got up. I looked around for a robe, something to hide my heart-patterned shorts. There were better times to vacuum his floor.

  And then I remembered what happened last time I stepped into his place, and I quickly sat back down on my bed.

  Nope, nope, nope. Bad idea.

  I vowed, just before I drifted into sleep, that when I saw him again, I was going to give him hell.

  “Kate, these are five-inch heels,” I told my friend as I tried to balance myself, as if the fact wasn’t already obvious. I put a hand on the wall to support myself.

  Kate was a dentist. From the moment she claimed she was going to be one when she was ten, she worked hard to get there. I was lucky that she answered when I called, but for someone incredibly smart and dedicated, she didn’t understand my reluctance to wear her glittery silver heels. They were stupidly high, but since I had nothing else to match my dress, she lent them to me.

  They were a striking contrast to the navy blue of my backless dress that I’d bought on impulse three months ago. I liked the way it fit me—I didn’t like the shoes that matched it now.

  My feet were already starting to ache. I was supposed to stand and smile in these?

  “They’re badass heels.” She gave me a thumbs-up.

  “They’re deathtrap contraptions that call themselves heels. I’m going to fall over and hit my head.”

  One of these days, I was going to put my foot down and tell Eva I couldn’t do these charity events anymore.

  She grinned. “May as well do it with style.” She pushed my back gently. “Go.”

  I shot her a glare. She followed behind me.

  Wes came over when he found me, holding a glass of wine. “Sierra,” he breathed out wearing a relieved smile, like he’d just escaped torture. “Glad to see you. Eva’s relentless. She keeps asking about her.”

  He meant Amy.

  “We’re all curious,” I told him, patting his back sympathetically.

  “There’s nothing to tell. I fucked up the other day.”

  “Oh.” A thought suddenly occurred to me. “Did you see what was just posted on Facebook?”

  “Rona again?”

  Rona was a blogger. She also happened to be social-media savvy, and the one who frequently posted local updates about anything and everything newsworthy or could generate a lot of buzz. She was cool. She happened to take great photos too.

  “Yep.”

  “No, I haven’t seen yet. What did she post?”

  The Facebook feeds were running rampant. Chase sent Sherry a bunch of lilies this morning. I needed to ask her what was going on between them now. It seems to have improved after last night, because there was a picture of her awestruck by the surprise.

  I pulled my phone out and scrolled through the recent feeds, until I found the relevant one.

  “Here.” I turned the phone towards Wes.

  It was one of a bunch of pink and yellow lilies that formed her initials.

  His face broke into a huge grin. “Think they’re okay now?”

  “I hope so. It means he’s not giving up.”

  “Never known him to, once he decides he wants something. The past two years have been hell on him. He gets by, but she took something away when she left.”

  “It’s been hell on them both.” I narrowed my eyes at the implication.

  His eyes widened slightly, and he put his hands up in surrender. “I’m not saying it wasn’t for her, but heck, we’ve all seen how he’s been.”

  “I know. Kind of worried about her though. They’ve got dinner tonight with his parents at his place. I’m prepared for a rescue, if they decide to kick her out,” I said, waving my phone. Since it was stressing me out, I decided maybe it was better if I’d have something to eat first. “Going to grab a snack.”

  I made my way halfway across the room, smiling and nodding politely at people, when I nearly fell, unsteady on my feet. Two arms caught me.

  Relieved, I looked up to thank the person. And stared in shock.

  Luke.

  He was all dressed up in a suit, clean-shaven, with a new haircut. He looked mildly surprised, and a little curious.

  “You okay?” he asked, his eyes sweeping over me.

  And he had to catch me as I was falling over. I wasn’t a klutz, it was just that shit decided to happen to me at the worst of times.

  “I’m fine,” I murmured. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t want you ruining your clothes.” He sounded almost patronizing. His eyes roamed downwards, to my shoes. “Although it surprises me you can still stand in those monstrosities.”

  “I hate you.”

  A smirk spread across his face. “They say the more you hate…”

  “Don’t finish that.”

  “Okay. But we both already know you finished the thought in your mind.”

  Argh.

  “I didn’t know you liked cleaning so much, you decided to do some midnight vacuuming,” I told him, thinking of what he did last night.

  He shrugged. Was it my imagination that he looked little uncomfortable? “Just felt like cleaning.”

  “Right,” I said, stretching out the word. I didn’t buy his response one bit. “You did something about the phone too.”

  “Yeah, I chucked it out the window.”

  “Thank God.”

  He let out a rich, throaty laugh. The sound was rough, as if he didn’t do it very often. That knowledge filled me with a sense of pride.

  Then again, I probably amused him by merely breathing.

  Wes came over with a plate, about to grab some brownies, too, when Luke asked, a little stiffly, “Your boyfriend?”

  “Her what?” came a strangled reply from Wes.

  I choked on my drink, coughing.

  Wes turned to me, face pale.

  “Did he just call me your—” I watched as a shudder went through him. I’d be a little offended if I didn’t feel exactly the same. “This woman’s crazy,” Wes declared, now turning to Luke, “and sometimes she never shuts up, but she’s like a sister to me.”

  Not exactly the most flattering comment, but hey, at least it cleared things up.

  They were measuring each other. When it became apparent they were having some sort of stare-down, I stepped in between them, and pushed.

  “Okay, enough. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” I told Luke. “I don’t know where you got that from, but you shouldn’t believe everything people tell you in Fortuity.”

  “He’s a friend?”

  I didn’t know where he was going with this, but it seemed like something settled over him.

  Then he stretched a hand out, apologizing to Wes. He shook it, but he still looked wary. Wes looked at me, then back at Luke. Then he stepped away.

  “I think I see Eva over there,” I heard him say hastily.

  I looked at the general direction he pointed at. But I didn’t see Eva.

  I rolled my eyes when I realized his intent. He was probably trying to give us some privacy.

  “My boyfriend?” I raised a brow when Wes was out of earshot.

  “He drove you home the other night.”

  He saw that?

  I frowned. “Well, I’m not getting a boyfriend anytime soon.”

  “Heartbreak?”

  I scrunched up my nose. “Love complicates things.”

  I saw constantly how my friends had to deal with it. It made you vulnerable, and it gave someone the power to break you. It was messy.

  He nodded in agreement. “One thing we can agree on.”

  “Ha. I was starting to think there was something wrong with us.”

  “Why are you here?” he asked, curiosity in his eyes.

  I sighed, rubbing my neck. “My best friend asked me to come.”

  He looked at me oddly. “You don’t like it here?”

  “It’s not that I don’t like it, but…” My eyes scanned across the room. “Look at that man there,” I said quietly, indicating the man sitting in a far corner,
his expression blank as a woman next to him prattled on about something. “He’s bored out of his mind, but he won’t say a thing, because he wants to fit in.”

  He leaned back on the staircase rail, looking intrigued. “You got that from a single look?”

  “That woman there’s so elegantly dressed, but she hates those clothes.”

  “How did you end up with that conclusion?”

  “She’s scratching her cheek or she’s constantly fanning herself like her clothes are too warm, or she’s shifting from foot to foot, like she’s not comfortable in them. The most telling sign, though,” I told him, “is that she hasn’t smiled once.”

  “You might be onto something,” he replied, thoughtful.

  “Why are you here?” I asked, curious about him now.

  “I got an invite,” he said carefully. “From your friend, Eva."

  Oh. Geez.

  That’s why she wasn’t anywhere around. She was trying to avoid me.

  Then I realized that he was standing too close. I remembered the near-kiss the other day. I moved to the side a little.

  “Running away, sweetheart?” But he had a knowing smile on his face, and something in me didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

  I went still. “No.”’

  “Didn’t think so.”

  “Sierra!” Eva’s mom, Mrs. Denvers walked towards us, sweeping me into a hug and pressing her cheek against mine. The sides of her hair were pinned up elegantly, her hair draped down in curly locks. Her dress flowed down to the ground. It was a cream color that emphasized her slim figure, and it fit her perfectly. “Your date?” she asked.

  “Uh, no—”

  “Luke,” he introduced himself.

  “Call me Lisa.” Mrs. Denvers laughed warmly.

  The lights started dimming. A slow song started to play, the sort that couples usually danced to.

  “It’s just going to be music at this time.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Would you two like to…?”

  My head was going to explode pretty soon. “I don’t think—”

  “Yes, we would,” he said politely, already pulling me onto the dance floor. “Thank you.”

  I didn’t even get to make a reply! He looked like he was holding back laughter. I reluctantly followed as he pulled my hand and walked closer to the center of the room, along with several other couples.

  He put a hand on my waist, and I put one on his shoulder reluctantly. His hand, warm, enclosed mine.

  “Do you enjoy watching me squirm?” I whispered in his ear as he led the dance, so people wouldn’t hear.

  He cracked a wide grin. “Only when I’m making you do it.”

  I was speechless for a second.

  “You had to go there,” I finally said, resting my forehead on his shoulder.

  He chuckled, the richness of the sound washing over me.

  This was super nice. And comfortable.

  “Admit it. You like fighting with me, too.”

  “You wish,” I muttered softly.

  We moved to the music, our bodies close, but never quite touching.

  It felt like I was floating in the air. Like it didn’t matter where this was heading, because I’d go with him.

  We were both silent. As if we were afraid that if we talked, it would break the moment. And I could admit to myself that in that moment, I didn’t want it to end.

  But too soon, the spell was broken.

  “Luke,” someone called out his name.

  —And everything grounded to a halt.

  Clarisse.

  I lifted my head up and stepped away. His hold on my waist didn’t let me move much farther. Clarisse’s brows were knitted, and then recognition hit her. She strode our way, her heels clicking on the ground. She stopped just before us, a hand planted on her hip, seething.

  She always hated my guts. It was fine with me. I hated hers too.

  “Luke, why are you with her?” she hissed.

  Oh boy. This wasn’t going to go down well. I had no idea she was coming. She never bothered before.

  “Risse,” he said, his voice a warning. “She’s a friend.”

  “She can’t be trusted.”

  I smiled widely, because I knew it would aggravate her. “Thank you. I so value your opinion.”

  She huffed. Yay.

  “I didn’t know you two knew each other.” Luke looked at her, then his gaze slid to me, a frown creasing his forehead.

  His eyes went back to her. “Why are you here, Risse?”

  “I heard you were coming.” She averted her gaze from him. “I didn’t think she’d be here too.” Her tone sounded accusing.

  “Yeah, I came to see what this was about. What’s going on, Risse? This isn’t like you.”

  Her cheeks were tinged with pink. “She’s… People like her have their own agenda. When they get it, they run away like their tail’s on fire.”

  God help me. I was about to open my mouth and retort, when Chase stepped in front of me, as if he could shield me from her words.

  “Enough,” he said firmly. “We can talk about this later.”

  She muttered something inaudibly under her breath, before she stormed off angrily without another word.

  Luke didn’t know about whatever happened between me and Clarisse, and still, he didn’t take her side.

  The discovery, as much as I didn’t want to admit it, made me see him in a new light.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, apologetic. But I saw the determination in his eyes when he said, “I don’t know what that was about. Whatever’s happened between you two, I don’t want that to affect us.”

  “Don’t apologize for her,” I replied back softly. Then, “I think I’m going home.”

  “Okay. I’ll go say goodbye too.”

  What? “You’re going home too?”

  He flashed me a heart-stopping grin. “Already got the dance I wanted.”

  Chapter Seven

  Things That Break

  I stared at the burnt toast on my plate like it had grown a head.

  This was not supposed to happen.

  I was pretty sure the toaster’s timer worked. My frown grew deeper. With a sigh, I lifted it up and flipped it, thinking maybe the other side was salvageable.

  The burnt toast stared back at me, as if silently taunting me.

  Why did this keep happening to me?

  I picked it up and bit on it unhappily, not wanting to waste the freshly-baked bread I’d just bought.

  A whistle sounded nearby, letting me know I had a call. It was Eva.

  “Sherr and Chase are fighting again and she went over to Kate’s, everything’s a mess, she’s crying and I don’t think I ever saw her that way before,” Eva said in one breath.

  I frowned, setting my tablet down. “Slow down. Sherr and Chase are fighting?”

  Five minutes later, she gave me a brief summary of what happened only a couple of hours ago.

  I abandoned my toast.

  I was out the door in five minutes.

  “Pat,” I said in surprise as I was coming down the stairs.

  Her head was poked out of her door, as if she’d been waiting for me.

  “Is that nice guy coming over?”

  I stopped.

  “Nice guy?” I echoed blankly.

  Her eyes crinkled and her lips tugged up. “I heard you two fighting the other day.”

  Oh. Luke.

  Nice guy? When the hell had that happened?

  “He fixed the leak on my sink this one time. Wouldn’t accept some money. I hope you two figured it out.”

  My cheeks heated. “We’re, ah, on better terms now.” I think.

  She’d always said I should find someone to settle down with. I hoped she wasn’t getting any ideas.

  We’d been neighbors now for nearly three years, and I’d seen her make a grown man cry. Considering one of them was an ex and another, a cousin, I was rather impressed. But she was kind-hearted, and she also happened to be an ex
pert haggler, a fact that greatly amused me.

  Don’t always blindly accept that the price can’t possibly get any lower, she once told me with a wink. Needless to say, I admired her persistence.

  “Good. I think you’ll be good for each other,” she said, her smile deepening.

  I murmured an affirmative response, before telling her I had to go.

  What he was good at was making my blood boil faster than anything else. The night of the festival came back to me—I hadn’t forgotten our deal. I think I already had an idea for the perfect dress.

  It drizzled while I drove to Kate’s that evening.

  The news shocked us more than we let show. No one expected it to happen.

  We’d taken part in giving Sherry and Chase an opportunity to talk, pushing them to spend some time together, to bring them closer again.

  They were happy together. They balanced each other out. Once upon a time, it felt like they could conquer anything together.

  I wanted that for them.

  It turned out that the effect was the exact opposite of what we’d intended.

  When you keep pushing things together by force, sometimes they break.

  Sherry had told us that once before.

  The guilt ate at me.

  I had stopped at Abe’s. I brought her coffee—a sort of peace-offering for inviting Chase at the movie night without telling her. If there was one thing she couldn’t live without, it was coffee. She was perched at a seat, her cheek pressed over the marble counter, a blanket draped over her shoulders. She didn’t even show so much as a hint of acknowledgement that she heard me enter.

  A couple of magazines were spread in disarray, a tray of cookies sat next to her, untouched.

  Not a good sign.

  “Sherr. I’m—”

  “Don’t.” Her voice trembled. “Don’t say sorry.”

  “Uh—”

  “I’ve had several people tell me that today. I don’t want you to be sorry,” she said almost bitterly. “I want you to forget it all happened.”

  But I couldn’t. I wasn’t that kind of person. I screwed up by trying to bring them closer. I needed to own up to it. I heaved a sigh, and sank down into one end of the couch.

  “We had a part in pushing you two together. We held on to what you both were together, rather than what you’ve become. I should’ve respected that.”