Page 49 of The Dixon Rule

“Why not?” I counter, even though absolutely nothing happened between me and Will.

“Spite,” Shane retorts. “And vengeance. This is purely retaliatory.”

“You’re such a child.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Oh my God, that’s literally what a child would say.”

“Oh, and another rule. You’re not allowed to turn the building against me.”

“Too late,” I say smugly.

“So you did say something to them!”

Will’s gaze swings between us like a Ping-Pong ball. “Are you flirting?”

“No,” I say in horror.

“What did you do to the neighbors?” Shane presses.

“Nothing, I swear.”

He scowls. “Are you lying?”

“Of course.”

Will starts to laugh. He claps Shane on the arm, then glances at me. “Um. I think I’ll leave you guys to it. Thanks for letting me crash here.”

“Please don’t leave me with him,” I plead, but Will is already heading for the door. I turn back to Shane. “See what you did? You drive everyone away with your personality. I have no friends because of you.”

His lips twitch. “You’re such a fucking drama queen.”

“Takes one to know one,” I mimic. “With that said, go away. I need to get ready for the HOA meeting. We can finish this conversation…let me check my schedule…never.”

“Don’t worry, we can finish it at the homeowners’ meeting,” Shane says with a smirk. “I’m planning to attend.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oh, I dare. I have some matters to raise with the council.”

“There is no council.”

“There will be when I’m done with them.”

“What does that even mean!” I wail, but Shane pulls a Will and marches to the door.

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes to escort you to the meeting,” he calls over his shoulder.

“Don’t you dare,” I growl after him.

“Oh, I fucking dare” is all I hear as the door shuts.

Oh my God. I hate him. I can’t believe my lips touched his last night. And his tongue was in my mouth. And I liked it.

The memory only exacerbates the morning from hell. I grumble curses under my breath as I get ready. Brushing my teeth angrily and then throwing on a blue sundress with little white flowers on it. While I wait for the coffeemaker to do its thing, I check my phone and find a few messages from my brother and one from Gigi.

Thomas is checking in from Peru, where he’s volunteering with a humanitarian aid organization. He assures me he’s alive and still planning on coming home at the end of the summer for Dad’s annual potluck. Good. I miss him.

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