Page 40 of Bad Boy Neighbor

I lay on my back, arms sprawled across the pristine white sheets I had bought to match the décor of this house. Despite it being a holiday rental, using someone else’s sheets wasn’t exactly my idea of hygienic. I even went so far as to splurge on luxury pillows. If there is only one thing my mother knows how to do right, it’s purchasing ridiculously expensive bedding fit for a queen.

The sun hasn’t risen yet, but the sound of birds chirping outside the window hints it’s early morning. My mind begins to reminisce about last night, replaying like an olden-day movie.

Things between Oliver and I have begun to shift. A direction I so desperately want to follow, yet knew I had to hold back.

Oliver is so carefree with his thinking, not understanding why someone wouldn’t just live their life on their own terms. The more I tried to justify my father’s behavior, the more I sounded like an idiot. Oliver doesn’t understand what my father is capable of. I’ve seen it firsthand how easily he destroys people’s lives without a care in the world.

And I would be no different, despite being his youngest daughter.

Blood is not thicker than water. If you do him wrong, you will pay no matter who you are.

I somewhat feed off Oliver’s confidence, desperate to have his courage, willpower, and drive. He didn’t let anything stop him. He thought he was better than everyone else and deserved only the best.

Oliver only thought about himself—his career, his goals. Selfish, perhaps, but his determination got him this far, and nothing seems to deter him.

I crave to be around him, looking forward to his texts or even the way he annoyingly refers to me as Gabs. As far as our friendship goes, we are platonic. Neither one of us has physically crossed the line, and I ignore every part of me wanting to take that line and shove it up someone’s backside.

Oliver treads the line with a careful balance.

I close my eyes, remembering how close he sat beside me in the spa, how our bodies were only inches apart, and how I wanted him to throw all caution to the wind and kiss me deeply. If we both had acted on spontaneity, not thinking about the consequences for one second, where would we be this morning?

But like always, the guilt is a toxic wave refusing to settle. It eats away at me when I least expect it, and last night, standing on the steps as he poured his broken heart out, I knew I was in trouble.

Oliver Madden is all I can think about, and seeing him in pain almost killed me.

I need to see him now.

I change into my workout gear, brush my teeth, and try to tame my hair. It’s an epic failure, as usual, so I decide to quickly braid it away from my face.

Late last night, I cleared it with Lana to borrow her spare key she kept under a potted plant out front to use it to wake Oliver up. It wasn’t without a thousand follow-up questions, all of which I promised to update her on soon.

With the front door closed behind me, I tiptoe toward his bedroom, stopping near the living room to pat Bubbles as he’s nestled into his bed before heading back down the hall.

As I enter Oliver’s room, he’s lying with his arm over his shoulder, torso in full view. He’s all muscle, a delicious sight, with a small amount of hair in the middle of his chest. I crave to run my fingers through it but know better.

He begins to stir, watching me as he grunts. “What the hell?”

“It’s morning. Rise and shine, baby,” I cheer.

“Do you know this is the first time in months I’ve had more than four hours of sleep? And how did you even get in here?”

“Is that how you greet all your women callers?”

“You’re the first one who’s stalked me all the way to my bedroom.” He rubs his hands against his face to wake himself up. “If it helps, I’m going commando under the blanket.”

I so want to test him, but resisting, I tease, “I wouldn’t put it past you. Now, c’mon, lazy bones, we’re going to miss it.”

He turns around, pulling the blanket with him. The top of his ass is exposed, and holy shit, he isn’t kidding. I stare at his back, admiring his skin, and why do I want to bite his ass?

“I’m going to wait for you out front,” I tell him, trying to tame my imbalance of hormones at this point. “To give you some, um… privacy.”

“Are you sure?” He rips off the blanket, his ass now completely exposed. “Come join me.”

I almost choke at the sight of him naked. Backing away from the bed, I turn only to walk straight into the door. The pain ricochets through my face and up to my temple. “I’m sure.”

Struggling to open my eyes, his smirk is all I can see. Asshole.

“You okay, Gabs? I don’t picture you as a prude.”

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