Page 48 of The Dixon Rule

I don’t care! Just leave!

Out loud, I say, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

With one last disparaging look, he turns on his heel and marches away. He takes the breakfast bag with him, as if I’m unworthy of it now.

Percy’s footfalls echo in the staircase, but I don’t budge from my doorway until I hear the telltale buzzing from downstairs. The noise the front door makes whenever anyone exits or enters Red Birch.

Once there’s nothing but blessed silence, I release a long exhalation. God. This is why I’m fifty-fifty on relationships. Sometimes I adore them. Other times—when they explode like a grenade in your face, for example—they’re a fucking hassle and I tell myself I should be having a lot more casual sex.

The door of apartment 2B suddenly creaks open. I catch movement from the corner of my eye as Shane pokes his head out.

“Damn, Dixon. You’re a stone-cold bitch. Poor guy.”

“That ‘poor guy’ has been bothering me for months,” I retort. “And don’t eavesdrop. It’s not an attractive quality in a person.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping. Everyone can hear everything in this building. Seriously. We need to speak to whoever did the drywall because they skimped on the good stuff. Poor Niall is probably so pissed at you right now.”

A muffled shout comes from below us. “Don’t speak for me!” There’s a pause. “But I am pissed. And it’s at you, 2B! Your gathering last night was the last straw.”

“Yeah, 2B,” I mock. “The last straw.”

Shane has murder in his eyes. “What did you do to them?”

“To whom?”

“The whole building. And not only Red Birch. I know you’ve been trash-talking me all over Meadow Hill.”

“Sorry to break it to you, but you’ve earned your own reputation.”

“Bullshit.”

I hear footsteps behind me and jump when a fully dressed Will appears.

“Everything okay here?” He smiles wryly. “It’s been a very chaotic morning.”

“It’s been a pain in the ass, that’s what it is.”

“Is Will still here?” Shane asks, craning his nosy neck toward my door.

“None of your business.”

I step back into my apartment and slam the door.

“I hate that he lives here,” I say darkly. “I hate it with all of my heart.”

Will laughs. “I kinda like it.”

“Enjoying my misery, huh?”

“I prefer his misery, actually. It’s fun watching you bust his balls. I bet he stays up all night stewing about it, wondering how he can get the last word in.”

There’s a very loud knock on the door.

Will grins. “See?”

Sure enough, when I open the door, Shane stomps past me and walks into my apartment like he lives here.

“I was thinking about it last night and decided that if I’m not allowed to sleep with cheerleaders, then you can’t sleep with hockey players. New rule. The Lindley rule. You can’t screw my teammates.”

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