Tempt Thy Neighbor (Roommate Romps)

by Teagan Hunter

  She tilts her head, face pinched tightly together. “I’m thinking a rusty butter knife will do the trick. Something slow and painful.”

  “Sounds messy.” I slide the dish of artificial sweeteners my way and grab a few to keep my hands busy. “Are you sure I’m worth all the fuss?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you think I’m worth your time and effort?”

  She huffs, annoyed by my ability to corner her so easily. “God, you are so obnoxious.”

  “I’m with her,” Darlene says, slipping our drinks in front of us.

  “You know, I think you’re trying to offend me, Darlene, but it’s not working out the way you planned. I always did like my ladies with a lot of sass.”

  I toss her a wink and she lifts her eyes skyward, but I see the corners of her mouth inch up.

  “I’ll be back with your food shortly.” She bustles away, shaking her head and mumbling something about my smart mouth.

  I peel the wrapper from my straw and dunk it into my cup, taking a long swig of my tea.

  “So,” Holland starts, “your email…did you mean it? Are you really throwing your hat into the ring for the project manager position?”

  “Yep. You?”

  She nods, taking a sip of her Diet Coke. “Yep.”

  “Weren’t you an assistant for the last four years? Do you even qualify for the job?”

  Her mouth snaps shut and I can see her jaw tightening from here. “I qualify just fine, thank you.”

  “How?”

  The look on her face tells me I’m in dangerous territory with my line of questioning, but I’m hoping to dig and find out just how much I need to worry about her.

  “Before I was my father’s assistant, I worked in a marketing department. That tacked on with four years of practically running my father’s office, and I have plenty of managerial skills.”

  “That’s not the same as being a manager.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve already spoken with Jessa about the promotion and she encouraged me to apply. She’s confident in the skills I’ve shown her so far, and she knows it’s no easy feat to run an office like my father’s. She believes I’d do just fine in the role of project manager.”

  And there it is.

  She already has the approval of the boss, which is a great thing for her, but not so much for me.

  It means I’ll need to bust my ass even harder to gain the same confidence.

  “What makes you think you’re so qualified?”

  “For starters, I have several years’ experience at actually running teams in a marketing department.” Not that I enjoy it, but she doesn’t need to know that little tidbit.

  “And several years’ experience being the family screwup. I doubt Jessa is looking for that ‘skill’ in her search.”

  I clench my teeth, reminded of my failures all over again.

  I can’t help but wonder if that’s who everyone will always see me as—the failed Barnes.

  “What even happened with that? Why did you go ballistic at your father’s charity event?”

  Darlene chooses that moment to drop our plates off in front of us, and I’m thankful for the interruption.

  We tuck into our lunches, letting the scrapes of our silverware fill the silence.

  Holland is the first to push her plate aside, not surprising since all she got was a small ham and cheese croissant.

  “Well?” she prompts, sitting back in the booth, chewing on the straw sticking out of her cup, and staring at me expectantly.

  With a sigh, I shove the last of my salad into my mouth and wipe my face with my napkin before balling it up and tossing it onto my empty plate.

  “Let’s just say Thomas was not upholding his marital vows by paying a little too much attention to a client’s daughter. When the client found out and threatened to walk, Thomas twisted everything around and told my father I was the one to blame. I spent the evening pissed off, and after having one too many cocktails, things got out of hand. Next thing I knew I was being subdued by the police.”

  I tell her how when I got home the next morning, my bags were waiting for me.

  With every word, I see the pity slipping into her eyes. She feels bad for me, and for some reason, that feels worse than anyone else’s pity.

  “Geez,” she says. “That story is nearly worse than mine.”

  “Let’s not forget my brother is also married to my ex.”

  “I’d hardly say she was your girlfriend.”

  “Hey, she attended three straight events with me. We were practically married in my book.”

  She laughs, but it doesn’t hide the hurt that flashes in her eyes.

  I’m sure she’s thinking about how many times she was my date…and how that number is far greater than three.

  She clears her throat and brushes her hair behind her shoulder. “Well, we had better be getting back to the office. I don’t think being late is going to earn us brownie points with Jessa. I’m going to run to the restroom first.”

  “Sure.”

  I stand when she does, then settle back into the booth as she starts for the bathroom. She doubles back to me, eyeing me skeptically when I don’t make a move to leave.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Waiting.”

  “Why? You’re running the risk of being late.”

  “Are you planning on taking forever?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’ll wait.” Her brows crush together, and I sigh. “My mother might be a cold-hearted witch, but she raised me with manners. I’m not letting you walk back by yourself.”

  “I’m a grown woman. I am fully capable of taking care of myself,” she insists.

  “Sorry, princess, no can do.”

  “Fine.” She blows out a breath. “Have it your way, then.”

  She stomps off toward the bathroom, and I settle in for my wait.

  I pick up the tablet I still haven’t given back. Unable to stop myself, I flip open the cover, my eyes scanning the page.

  This book is dirty. This book is very dirty.

  My cock twitches, and suddenly instead of two fictional characters, I see myself with a woman.

  She’s on her knees, lips stretched around my cock. She peeks up at me, and instead of the blue eyes the heroine has, all I see is green.

  Instead of black hair fisted in my hand, it’s strawberry blonde.

  And instead of some random woman, it’s Holland.

  Whoa. What the fuck?

  My dick is straining against my slacks, and I have no doubt that if I weren’t sitting in the middle of a restaurant right now, it would be in my hand.

  A notification comes through, and my eyes are drawn to the time in the corner.

  Oh shit.

  I’m due back at work in five minutes.

  I slam the tablet closed and push to my feet, stalking toward the restrooms. I bang on the door, calling Holland’s name.

  When the door swings open, it is definitely not Holland glaring at me.

  What the…

  My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out.

  * * *

  Holland: Game on indeed.

  * * *

  Well played, Holland. Well played.

  9

  Holland

  “I thought you were kidding when you asked me to help you pick out a cat.”

  “Nope.” I beam at the little ball of gray curled in my lap that I just brought home from the animal shelter. I give the sleeping kitty gentle scratches on top of its head, loving the way she leans into me even in her sleep. “I was one hundred percent serious. Isn’t she so precious?”

  “She really is,” River says, reaching over and running her hand softly over her short coat of fur. “Makes me want another cat, but I’m positive Dean would kill me if I brought one home.”

  “Only because Morris is evil.”

  She laughs. “He is a total shithead. But I love him.” She shakes her head. “I do
n’t know how Dean volunteers at the animal shelter. I’d be bringing pets home left and right.”

  “Oh man, when I fostered animals in the past, it was always so hard to say goodbye.” I pick up the six-month-old cat and snuggle her to my chest. “And now I don’t have to.”

  “What are you going to name her?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I have to think of something good.”

  “Oh fuck. I thought you were joking about it.” I whirl around to find Sutton standing in the doorway. I didn’t even hear the front door open.

  We’ve been living together for a month now, and I’m still not used to seeing him in my space.

  Just like I’m still not used to seeing him at work.

  Before, I used to only have to see him at galas. It was easy to ignore him then.

  Now, he’s everywhere, and I couldn’t ignore him if I tried.

  We have breakfast together.

  We walk to work together.

  We have lunch together.

  We come home together.

  We’re always together…and I don’t completely hate it.

  Or the way he blasts his music in his bedroom, even though it’s god-awful. Or the way he always helps himself to my favorite snacks, even though he knows it drives me nuts. Or how he plops down next to me on the couch and ruins my me time, only to make me laugh with his impressions of the characters in the show I’m watching. Or how he always insists on paying for my lunch at The Gravy Train to impress Darlene, no matter how many times I protest.

  But worst of all, I don’t completely hate the way he sets my body on fire.

  Like right now.

  I’m trying very, very hard to not notice the way his sweat-soaked clothes cling to his body. It’s obvious he just got back from the gym, which seems to be his nightly routine.

  I figured he’d have to work out a lot to maintain the body he has, but I didn’t think he’d be up there every night of the week. Sometimes I wonder if he just goes to avoid being around me and splashes pool water on himself to make it look like he actually worked out.

  Judging by the abs I’m able to count right now, I’d say it’s highly unlikely.

  “Achoo!”

  His sneeze is so loud the cat jolts awake.

  “Aww. You woke her.”

  “I—achoo!—told you I’m allergic.” He sniffles, running the back of his hand over his nose. “I wasn’t lying.”

  “Well, you have one of three options: move, medicine, or die. Your call.”

  “Gee, so glad you care so much about me.”

  “I don’t.”

  He toes off his shoes and tosses his keys into the bowl on the counter. “Nice to see you again, River.”

  “Hi, Sutton.”

  I don’t miss the flirtatious grin he gives her, and I don’t miss her breathy answer.

  It makes me laugh that even River, who is completely in love with my brother, isn’t immune to Sutton’s charms.

  He heads into the kitchen and pulls a glass from the cabinet. He fills it from the pitcher of water in the fridge, downs it, and fills it again.

  His eyes don’t leave me the entire time, and I hate the way my nipples pebble under his scrutiny.

  He’s been doing that a lot—staring at me.

  And I get the feeling he’s doing it on purpose.

  Since the day I left him hanging at The Gravy Train, he’s been nice.

  Too nice.

  Going by our history, I’d say he’s doing it to get under my skin while he bides his time, plotting his revenge on me.

  After his third glass of water, he places his dirty cup in the sink and makes his way into the living room. His focus shifts to the cat in my lap, who is slowly working on falling back asleep.

  He looks annoyed by it, and I’m a little giddy to find something else to annoy him with.

  “I’m going to go take a shower. I guess afterward I’ll be running down to the drugstore and grabbing some allergy medication.”

  “Damn, I was really hoping you’d go with one of the other options.”

  “You know there’s only one way I’m moving out.” He smirks at me, then turns his attention to River as he walks backward down the hall. “Always a pleasure.”

  “Pretty sure it’s all mine,” she mutters as he disappears into his bedroom.

  “River!”

  “What?” She has the nerve to look sheepish. “You can’t tell me he doesn’t get you at least a little bit worked up.”

  “He doesn’t.”

  She snorts. “Right. Sure. Whatever you have to tell yourself. I just know if he were my roommate, I’d have a hard time resisting him.”

  “I’m sure you would. We both know your track record with resisting roommates.”

  “Guilty as charged.” She sighs dreamily, no doubt thinking of my brother, who was once her temporary roommate. “So, I couldn’t help but pick up on him saying there’s only one way he’d move out. Seemed like it kind of had a pointed meaning…”

  Of course she’d pick up on that.

  “Like everything with Sutton, it’s complicated,” I tell her.

  She narrows her eyes. “Why do I get the feeling there’s something between you two you’re not talking about?”

  I tuck my lips together, and her eyes flare with excitement.

  “Spill it.”

  I shake my head. “No way.”

  “Why not?”

  I focus my attention on the kitten that’s fallen back asleep between my legs. “Because it’s embarrassing.”

  “Embarrassing or not, it’s clearly bothering you. Maybe you should talk to someone about it, get some outside perspective.”

  I peek up to find her grinning at me mischievously.

  “You’re only saying that because you’re dying to know the details.”

  “Correction: I’m saying it because it’s true…and I’m dying to know what makes you so immune to him.”

  Immune to him? Hardly.

  If anything, I’m a little too bothered by him.

  But maybe telling someone about it will help. Maybe I’ll see just how absurd any attraction I have for him really is.

  “It’s a long story.”

  She glances over her shoulder when we hear the shower kick on. “Well, you better make it quick before he gets back.”

  I give her the short version of my past with Sutton, how we hated each other in high school, our summer together, and how he used me up and cast me aside four years ago.

  “I’m not going to lie, that makes him significantly less attractive,” she says when I’m finished. “He just left you there? And hasn’t said anything to you about it since?”

  “Other than rubbing the way he made me feel in my face, no.”

  “Remind me why you’re living with him again?”

  I laugh, but there’s no humor to it. “Honestly? Because I’m stubborn. He crashed my showing with Lucy, then bet me we couldn’t live together without one of us trying to jump the other. And, well…”

  “You’re competitive as hell and trying to prove him wrong?”

  “Exactly. I know, I know—it doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

  “Actually, it kind of does.”

  I tip my head to the side, silently telling her to continue.

  “Well, I mean, you want to prove to him that you don’t want him, that what happened in the past has no effect on you. He might have had the upper hand back then, but you have it now.”

  Wow. She completely nailed that.

  “You’re good,” I tell her.

  “I know.” She gives me a sly smile.

  “Does Dean know all of this?”

  “No, and you’re not telling him either. He just thinks we’re two old friends helping each other out.”

  “Come on. There’s no way that’s all he thinks. He’d have to be blind not to see the hatred between you two.”

  “He told himself he wasn’t madly in love with you for like a year. I really don’t think my brother i
s the best judge of these situations.”

  “True.” She laughs. “But I think he’d want to know what happened. Then he wouldn’t be so chummy with Sutton.”

  “You’re right. He’d probably go high and to the right and try to do something like punch him to prove nobody messes with his sister, but I don’t need Dean to fight my battles. I’m handling everything on my own.”

  She gives me a look and nods. “Fine. I can respect that. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “And that right there is why I can’t wait for you to be my sister-in-law one day.”

  Her eyes spark with joy at the thought of marrying my brother, and a pang of unexpected jealousy slices through me.

  I’ve always been fine on my own, never really interested in anything long term. I’ve honestly been too busy to even consider it. Sometimes being on your own gets lonely though.

  “With all this history between you, how’s it going living and working with him?”

  I blow out a breath, thinking about the last four weeks.

  Sure, Sutton annoys the hell out of me just by breathing and he’s too cocky for his own good, but it’s not as awful as I thought it would be…though I don’t think I’m ready to admit that out loud.

  “If you consider living with your enemy who annoys you to no end to be fine, then it’s fine.”

  She eyes me closely, and I’m not a fan of the slow grin that pulls at her lips. It’s like she can see something I can’t.

  “Just promise me you’ll be careful,” she finally says.

  “With Sutton?”

  She nods. “Don’t let the handsome jerk win.”

  “Don’t worry—I have absolutely zero intentions of losing this bet. In fact, pretty soon, I’m sure I’ll be calling you up to help me look for a new roommate.”

  “Now there’s a winner’s attitude.” She chuckles. “As much as I hate to break up girl time and leave this adorable kitty behind,” she says as she scratches between the kitten’s ears and then pushes off the couch, “I had better get home. I’m sure your brother is wondering if I’ve grown tired of his shit and left him.”

  “You know you’re too good for him, right?”

  She shrugs. “I know.”

  I laugh as she makes her way to the door.