Page 1 of Unexpected

ONE

Hazel

“I swear,I’m going to kill him this time,” I mumbled as I looked from the car blocking my driveway to the illuminated house to my left. The thump of the music was obnoxious, and I was surprised no one had called the cops yet. There were a few partygoers congregating on the porch of the house, drinks in their hands and heads thrown back, laughing, but it looked like most of the party was happening inside.

I just needed whoever was parked behind me to move. Why anyone would intentionally park at the end of someone’s driveway was beyond me, but if my neighbor’s attitude and personality were any indications, I’m sure the people he hung around weren’t all that great either.

I took a deep breath. The cool bite of the fall air felt good against my angry, flushed skin as I stomped toward his house. I marched down the sidewalk, my new black heels clicking against the concrete. The sound was satisfying and provided a needed boost of confidence. When I hit the bottom stair of the porch, I grabbed the rail to steady myself.

I drew the attention of every person outside while I gained my balance. The closest person to me was a woman, roughly my age, with jet-black hair. Her red lips were a stark contrast to her extraordinarily white teeth. She gave me a slurred “hiiii” as I climbed the steps.

“Is Luke inside?” I asked, not missing a beat and hoping to get out unscathed and relatively unnoticed.

She gave me a curious look but eventually nodded and went back to talking to the guy hanging on her when I stepped through the front door.

For such a loud party, there weren’t that many people in the house. It wasn’t the first time I was party crashing, so I knew exactly where to go. I didn’t stop as I scanned the faces of each person I passed. Most of them were drunk, or at least tipsy. A few were dancing, others were playing drinking games, and each person who noticed me gave me a look similar to the woman outside.

I found Luke in the kitchen, leaning back in front of the sink, with a beer in one hand and his phone in the other. I rounded the island, shimmied between a few people, and stood directly in front of him. That was mistake number one.

After fighting, arguing, bickering—whatever the hell you wanted to call it—with Luke for the previous two years, I learned it was better to keep my distance from him. He was a big guy. He was easily twice my size with a broad chest and biceps that were the size of my thighs. He was intimidating without trying to be, and although I wasn’t scared of him, he did make me nervous when he looked down at me with dark, hooded eyes and an unbothered expression on his face. Without even trying, he made me feel small.

Then he opened his mouth and his deep voice, dripping with confidence and authority, added to my nerves. Thankfully, my three-inch heels helped—although not much—to decrease his height advantage. He was confident, brazen, and huge. A great combination.

“Hi, neighbor,” I said between gritted teeth.

“Oh, look who it is!” Luke said as if he hadn’t seen me standing right in front of him for several seconds. “Did you finally decide to come by and hang with us, neighbor?” He smirked. The guy standing next to him gave me a once-over and my skin began to crawl. I knew I looked hot in a formfitting black corset top that pushed my boobs up, a black blazer, skintight jeans, and black heels. But his leering made me want to turn and run.

Luke kept his eyes locked on my face, though.

“No. I’m trying to get out of my driveway, but one of your friends is parked directly behind me. I need them to move.” I crossed my arms over my chest and lifted my chin. I refused to back down or seem small. I’d had enough of Luke and his bullshit.

He bought the house next door at approximately the same time Michael, my fiancé, and I moved in. Everything was fine until Luke’s brother, Josh, also moved in almost two years later. Since then, they began having monthly parties that lasted all night and with music that vibrated our house, too. The parties were annoying, but what really pissed me off was that their dog, Sadie, got out all the time.

She was a sweet golden retriever that they couldn’t seem to control. If I had a dollar for every time I had to return their damn dog…

“Why don’t you stay? Maybe you’ll understand why we always have people over if you meet a few of them.” He sipped his beer and eyed me over the bottle, which looked too small for his oversized hand.

“I’m not staying. I’m meeting a friend, and I need my car,” I said with as much conviction and confidence as I could muster. A few people had moved closer to witness our interaction and joined the crowd surrounding us.

Luke drained the last of his drink and set the empty bottle next to him on the counter. His forearms, covered in dark tattoos that eventually disappeared under his short sleeves, flexed as he mimicked my body language. He crossed his arms over his chest and leveled me with an uninterested look.

“Fine, we’ll move the car because you asked so nicely,” he relented, and I relaxed. “But…” I knew he wasn’t going to let me off that easily. It seemed like Luke had a penchant for making me miserable whenever the opportunity presented itself.

“You can’t just move the car to be a nice neighbor?” I asked, hoping for some grace.

“Now, why would I do that if we could have a little fun?” He used the collective“we”like whatever he had planned would actually be fun for me too. I highly doubted it.

I rolled my eyes. It was a habit I really needed to get under control, but that was difficult around that asshole. I raised my eyebrows in question.

“Just hurry up. What do you want me to do?”

“We were actually in the middle of a game when you marched your ass right on in, so play a round with us,” Luke simply said.

I wasn’t in the mood for games, and I was already late as it was. I had a short window of time I could spend with Stephanie, and I didn’t want to waste it on a drinking game.

“Let’s just get it over with. What’s the stupid game?” I huffed, knowing it was easier to go along with it. Playing along would be the quickest way to get what I wanted: the car out of my way. I’d play a round and be on my way; otherwise, it would be at least another thirty minutes of arguing with Luke, and then I’d be extremely late for drinks and in an even worse mood.

He handed me his phone, which I took warily. “Just tap the screen,” Luke instructed. “And you either have to do what the card asks you to do, answer the question, or take a shot if you want to forfeit the round.”

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