Chapter 8

Following the granny panties debacle, Lara had conspired with Travis on how best to get him back. And the realization that Zavien had not, in fact, updated his mailing address but had apparently just had a slow mail week further fueled her ire.

Lara had gotten pretty well versed in her asshole neighbor’s comings and goings; she had been watching him like a hawk—not that she would admit that to anyone. So, when Zavien exited his apartment, she was ready and waiting behind the safety of her door.

Through the peephole, she watched him slump down the hallway to the elevators. What a shame, really, because he was quite tall, and she had seen how very nice his shoulders were under the guise of his horrible posture.

~Irrelevant~, she chided herself. No amount of broad shoulders and straight backs could erase how irksome he was. And now that he was gone, it was time to move.

So, there she was, a simple girl with a plan for vengeance, holding two pieces of her neighbor’s mail. She found herself humming along to the pleasant melody playing inside Zavien’s apartment, as it always was, as she shoved his singular envelope under the door.

This time, she didn’t bother with a Post-it, not when he was weaponizing them against her. And besides, he would know her feelings on his little stunt without so much as a word passing between them.

She vowed it to herself as she stuck her carefully selected dirty magazine to his door with a couple of thumbtacks.

Standing back to appraise her work, she snickered to herself. The label showing his name and her address was doing double duty in making sure no children would be scarred in the making of this revenge and letting Zavien know she would not take his shit lying down.

Giddy with anticipation, Lara retreated to her apartment to await the inevitable backlash Zavien would face. It didn’t take long for the telltale gasps and exclamations at the publicly displayed magazine to reach her ear.

Some seemed to think it was funny, laughing or whistling in appreciation, but after a few hours, the negative feedback had far outweighed the good-natured. A few people had left notes, most of them polite requests for Zavien to kindly keep such deliveries private in the future.

One woman, though, had a particularly bad reaction, covering her son’s eyes as they walked past the magazine.

She returned a few minutes later to bang on his door, but when she realized that would yield no results, she stomped back to her apartment, only to reappear again several minutes later. This time, she had a lengthy note with her, one Lara was sure was scathing.

God, she wanted to read that letter.

After the woman left, Lara began twisting her doorknob when her phone halted her. With an annoyed kiss of her teeth, Lara fought to get the vibrating phone out of her pocket.

The screen read: Incoming Call from Needy Ass Bitch.

With a sigh, Lara answered. “What do you want, Blake?”

“You are sooooo mean!”

Blake’s offended wail blared straight into her ear. She pulled the phone away—albeit too late—with a grimace.

“I can’t just call you to chat?” he whined.

“No,” Lara deadpanned.

“Fine.” The pout was clear in his voice. “I guess I’ll just hang up and never, ever bother you again—since I’m so annoying.”

“You are annoying,” Lara agreed. “Always have been. But it’s never been an obstacle in our friendship before.”

That wasn’t entirely true. When they were seven, she had been so annoyed with him that she had pushed him into a cow pie. But they had been able to move past it.

“I’m planning a surprise for Jae’s birthday,” he said.

Lara frowned. “What kind of surprise?”

“Oh, you know, cocktails, dancing, public drunkenness—the usual.”

“Jae hates parties,” Lara reminded him.

“But he loooooves watching me shake my ass,” Blake rebutted.

That, too, was untrue, but Lara suspected there was more to this story. “Blake,” she said shortly, her patience wearing thin, but before she could continue, he spoke again.

“Look, I have a really awesome cool thing planned, but I can’t tell you yet, but I swear he’s totally gonna love it,” he said in one long breath.

Lara hummed in consideration. “You’re not going to spray him with anything, right?”

“No,” he grumbled.

“Because you remember what happened at his university graduation ceremony, right?” Lara asked, ready to launch into a lecture about not spraying people with Champagne. Lara had been convinced that Jae was going to waterboard Blake in retaliation.

Blake groaned. “Yes, I remember.”

“And you won’t prank him? Embarrass him in front of a crowd?”

“No! I promise, it’s a really nice surprise! He’s gonna love it.”

Blake’s track record was hardly stellar, but he clearly did right by Jae more often than not. They had been moon-eyed over one another for so long that it was impossible to think otherwise. Goofy as he was, Blake did have a shockingly sweet streak.

Lara had never known two people as opposite as Blake and Jae, but somehow that made it work. As baffling as she found it sometimes, she had to admit she was happy they had each other.

With a sigh, Lara reluctantly agreed. “Okay, let me know if you need help planning.”

“Nope, got it all under control. And I emailed everyone a preapproved list of gifts,” he boasted.

Lara had to smile, even as she rolled her eyes. “Well, he’s gonna get what I give him, but otherwise, I’ll be there.”

“Okay, okay, awesome.” Shuffling sounded on the other end of the call, and Blake’s distracted self-mutterings told her this conversation was about to go off the rails. “What do you think I should wear?”

“I don’t even know what the plan is,” Lara reminded him.

“Yeah, but you know how Jae is. Do you think I should wear a suit?”

“Maybe you should ask Delia,” Lara suggested, but Blake was once again talking to himself.

“What about blue? Or orange, I love orange.”

“Okay, Blake, I’m gonna go now,” she said, speaking louder to get his attention.

“No, no, no!” he cried. “Is a tie too much? I need help!”

Lara was about to tell him that a tie probably was too much, but the sound of footsteps in the hall pulled her out of their conversation. She pressed her forehead to the door to peer out the peephole, and sure enough, Zavien was returning home.

“I gotta go,” she whisper-hissed into her phone, hanging up despite Blake’s loud protests.

Zavien slowed to a stop in front of his apartment, his back to her. His head tilted to and fro as he read and peeled the notes off his door, and then his shoulders shook as he untacked the magazine.

Lara wanted to pretend it was from his silent sobs, but a part of her knew he was laughing.

And then he went inside. That was it.

No anger, no annoyance, no anything.

With a frustrated groan, Lara flung herself backward onto her couch, stared up at her popcorn ceiling, and wondered what it would take to get a rise out of this guy. At this rate, nothing short of a nuclear explosion seemed capable of perturbing him even slightly.

She was sinking into self-pity and wallowing when a loud, urgent, and aggressive thumping from the hall pulled her from her pit of despair. In her haste to return to the peephole, Lara nearly bludgeoned herself on the coffee table as she rolled off the couch.

The angry mother from earlier was back, and it looked to Lara like time had not been on Zavien’s side. She looked as pissed off now as she had earlier. “This is completely inappropriate!” she scolded. “This is a public hall, and there are a lot of families in this building!”

“I understand.” Zavien remained calm and perfectly composed. “I didn’t realize it would be there for everyone to see.” His eyes flicked to Lara’s door behind the woman.

Lara backed away from the peephole, startled. She then shook her head. ~It’s not like he can see me~, she told herself, putting her eye back to the small opening.

“My son saw it!” the mother shouted at him as he tried to placate her with his words.

“I’m very sorry—”

“Do you have any idea how traumatizing that is to a boy his age?”

“Forgive me, but…they’re just breasts,” he stated, remaining unfazed.

Lara let her laughter ring out unabashedly before clamping her hands over her mouth.

After another minute of being thoroughly chastised, Zavien was finally freed from the concerned parent’s torment. The woman left in a huff, and Zavien’s gaze shifted toward Lara’s apartment.

Suddenly feeling as though he could see her, Lara spun away from the peephole, pressed herself against the wall, and held her breath.

A soft knock sounded at her door, but she was not about to answer it.

He seemed to know it, too, because he didn’t wait long before muttering a dark warning as he took his leave: “Careful, Miss Hendry.”