Chapter 5

“I’m appalled,” Zavien said with an exasperated sigh. “Why would you ever presume to open someone else’s package?” His tone was cool, calm, and collected, but the glint in his eye betrayed the sarcasm beneath.

Every fiber of her being screamed that he was messing with her, but that didn’t stop her knee-jerk reaction to fly the fuck off the handle.

“Are you serious?” she asked, knowing full well that the only serious thing about this man was that he was a serious pain in her ass. “I’ve been leaving notes for you all week and haven’t heard a single thing!”

He tilted his head and trained his eyes evenly on her. “So that gives you the right to open a parcel that is clearly mine?”

“Considering the fact that it has ~my address~ on it, I don’t think it is all that clear, actually,” she argued. “And don’t try to skirt past the fact that you have been blatantly ignoring my very reasonable request for you not to have your mail delivered to my apartment.”

Zavien shrugged, looking like the perfect picture of unbothered, which did nothing but infuriate her further. “Honest mistake,” he said. “~D~ and ~H~ are pretty close together on the keyboard.”

Lara shook her head in disbelief. “Those cataracts must be a bitch,” she spat.

Zavien’s silvery eyebrows shot up for the briefest of moments. “Hmm, no cataracts just yet, fortunately.” He took the opportunity to utilize his apparently fully functioning eyes to rake over her from head to toe.

Her whole body flushed, from her flyaway hair all the way down to her mismatched socks. She would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a thrill mixed with indignation at the attention.

But beneath that attention was smugness. It was like he knew that he had bested her. She couldn’t see his smirk, but the way his eyes crinkled around the edges and the lift of his left cheek under the mask were telling enough.

She would retreat for now. “No more packages,” she demanded. “I don’t ever want to see, hear, read, or speak of, to, or from you ever again.”

“Bit harsh,” he said, his head tilting once again as he regarded her.

She took a long, deep breath, biting back the enraged snarl growing at the back of her throat, turned on her heel, and headed straight back into her apartment, where she could scream into a pillow without any witnesses.

***

Lara had to dig her nails into her thighs to keep from kicking her pedicurist in the face. The paddle the woman had to the bottom of Lara’s foot sent full-body twitches coursing through her.

Then there was Delia—effortlessly calm and elegant, as always, even with her bare feet out and her pre-distressed jeans folded up over her knees. “You need a massage,” she said. “Or to get laid. Either one.”

“I need a new neighbor,” Lara said. “And maybe a new best friend, since mine doesn’t support me.” She shot Delia a dry look, one that went unnoticed.

“I don’t support you being driven to the brink of insanity over some mail,” Delia said, still refusing to look Lara’s way. “You’re probably egging this guy on with all the attention you’re giving him. Ignore him.”

She made it sound so simple.

“Did you even get to see what was in the box?” Delia asked.

“No,” Lara said with a sigh. “Probably for the best.”

“Now, that, we agree on.” Delia finally met Lara’s gaze. “Honestly, Lara, you just need to forget about it. It’s only making you miserable. You’re much better off focusing your attention on the hot one—the nurse.” She wagged her eyebrows suggestively.

Lara laughed. “He’s an orderly,” she corrected. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and he’s super cute, but I don’t know if I feel it.”

“Unless ‘it’ is what’s in his pants, I don’t care what you’re feeling.” Delia spoke point-blank as always, to the mortification of the two ladies working on their feet.

Lara gave them both an apologetic smile, while Delia just kept on keeping on.

“He’s cute. You’re cute. You like each other well enough. I don’t see what’s so wrong with indulging in a little sauce on the side.”

“Sauce on the side?” Lara repeated, blurting out a shocked laugh.

“All I’m saying is, I wouldn’t be so worried about Mystery Man when you’ve already got so much on your plate.” Delia shrugged. “Speaking of, are you ready for your parents?”

“Yeah, I bought some extra bedding for the sofa, and there’s this free concert in the botanical gardens on Friday evening. My mom loves that sort of thing,” Lara said.

Delia grinned. “Sounds perfectly boring,” she said with mocking approval before her expression turned serious. “Are you sure you don’t just want to stay with me? My guest room has to be more comfortable than your couch.”

“I’ll be fine.” Lara waved off her concerns. “It’s more comfortable than you’d expect.” She had passed out on it a few too many times while watching crappy reality shows, elbow-deep in a bowl of popcorn.

“All right,” Delia said in a singsong voice. “Oh, it’s supposed to be really nice Saturday. Maybe you can bring them by before dinner for drinks and a dip in the pool? They can enjoy the view, and then we can all go for dinner.”

“I don’t want to ruin your weekend,” Lara said, worried she was taking advantage.

“Oh, please,” Delia countered. “I love to reminisce with your parents about all the dumb shit you used to do as a kid. It’s my second-favorite pastime.”

Lara glared at her. “I’m demoting you. Blake can be my new best friend.”

Delia shrugged. “That’s fine. You let me know how that’s going after a week.”

Silence stretched between them as the two pedicurists applied the final touches to their nail polish.

“So what’s your first-favorite pastime, then?” Lara immediately regretted asking, fearful of the answer given their audience. Delia’s mischievous grin said it all, so when she opened her mouth to elaborate, Lara hastily said, “Never mind.”

“All done,” the lady working on Delia announced, taking the UV lamps away from both Delia and Lara.

They thanked the pedicurists and made their way to the counter for payment, with Lara slipping and sliding in her flip-flops all the way there. She was still fighting to get into her purse when Delia handed over a large bill, telling the woman at the register to keep the change.

“My treat,” she said to Lara with a wink before heading out of the salon without another word, leaving Lara gaping after her.

“Hey!” Lara cried, nearly sliding clean out of her sandals when she caught up to Delia, who was already halfway into her car. “You don’t have to do that, you know. I can pay for my own pedicure.”

Delia rolled her eyes, leaning on the edge of the open door. “Obviously. But I wanted to.”

“But I didn’t need you to,” Lara argued.

“Lara, please use that gigantic brain of yours and try to grasp what I’m saying. I. Wanted. To. Treat. You. You ~can~ let people do things for you. It doesn’t make you any less capable in your own right.” She let out a mildly irritated huff. “Now, accept my gift, say thank you, and quit being a bitch.”

Part of Lara wanted to argue, but there was no point in fighting a losing battle. Besides, maybe Delia was onto something. “Thank you,” she grumbled.

Delia hummed in satisfaction, leaned over to kiss Lara’s cheek, and smeared lip gloss on her face before disappearing into her sexy little black coupé and driving off.

***

Lara got home to find a little brown paper bag by her door. She was once again skeptical of the package—and the scratchily written note stapled to it, showing a smiley face and saying: Sorry.

There were only two people who would have left this here, and only one of them had a reason to apologize.

~It’s from Zavien.~ Her lips turned down at the thought, and she was tempted to toss it in the hallway garbage can. ~Then again, a gift would certainly be a nice gesture.~ Maybe she could forgive him for his rudeness, especially if what was inside was nice.

In the end, curiosity got the best of her, so she took the mystery bag inside her apartment and set it on the counter.

After considering it for a long moment, she tore it open.

The first thing she saw as she looked into the bag was one of her pink Post-it notes, which she pulled out to read. On it, her message about Zavien’s mail was crossed out, and in its place said: To help you remove that stick up your ass.

Frowning again, she reached into the bag and pulled out what felt like a tube. When the object’s label came into view, she was pretty sure all of her neighbors could hear the infuriated snarl she let out.

She was also pretty sure she could hear laughter coming from the apartment across the hall.

Closing her eyes to collect herself, Lara squeezed the bottle Zavien had given her—the bottle of lube.

~Fine~, she thought. ~Two can play it that way.~