Page 14 of Bad Boy Neighbor

Stupid Redheaded Sluts.

The balls of my feet ache with every step to the kitchen.

Never, ever wearing those heels again.

Blisters forming from the new leather and my desire to dance the night away removed all my senses and obviously my pain threshold.

Inside the small kitchen, I turn the Keurig on and wait to drink the strongest coffee known to man. The choice of décor inside the kitchen is rather dated—yellow cupboards and one of those refrigerators dating back to the seventies. The dishtowels hanging from the oven handle have images of boats. I hadn’t realized until now that the fabric matches the tablecloth sitting on the round dining table in the middle of the room.

My coffee is ready, and knowing I should also stomach some food, I settle for a piece of toast with a thin layer of butter plus two Advil tablets.

“Hey there, neighbor.” Lana’s voice travels through the back door.

I move slowly, opening the screen door to let her in. For a Sunday morning, she looks nicely dressed in an ivory halter top and cargo skirt. Her hair is placed into a side braid away from her face. She lays her eyes on me and breaks out in laughter, the noise causing my head to throb once again, so I wince.

“Big night?”

I nod—it’s all I can muster.

“Okay, really big if vocal cords are tapped out.”

I hadn’t noticed the silver canister she’s carrying and places on the table in front of me. “Here, drink this. According to Sebastian, it’s the best hangover cure.”

I’m afraid to ask. “What is it?”

“Smoothie...”

“Just a smoothie?”

“With ah… raw egg.” She coughs, trying to disguise the ‘raw egg’ part.

My stomach does that thing again—a vicious swirl of sensations causing an internal struggle to keep things down. I swallow the giant lump inside my throat. I’ve done enough vomiting in the last twenty-four hours to last a lifetime.

“I thought the same thing.” Lana screws up her face sliding it directly underneath my mouth. “But he insisted.”

“Um… the gesture is great. Thank you, but?—”

“No buts, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

I wish this headache away.

Nope, didn’t work.

So, for the sake of Sebastian and Lana’s relationship, I give it a try. Either it’ll cure the raging hangover, or I will vomit trying.

Opening the canister, I block my senses to not smell the contents and drink as much as I can in one go. Surprisingly, my immediate reaction doesn’t involve me bending over the kitchen sink.

“So, tell me. Last night was?—”

“I don’t remember,” I lie, avoiding the humiliation of my actions.

Lana scans the room in a frenzy. “Oh shit, is he here?”

“Is who here?”

“The guy you brought back home?”

“I did no such thing,” I’m quick to respond defensively. “Besides, no one would want me the way I was acting last night. Have you ever made that big of a fool out of yourself that you wish you could climb into a hole and die?”

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