Page 1 of Holiday Power Play

Chapter 1

Lana

Sometimes I wonder if men just get up in the morning, brush their teeth, look at their reflection in the mirror, and tell themselves,“Today, I’m going to be a gigantic dick. And nobody’s going to stop me.”

Or… maybe that’s just my new neighbor.

The engine on his motorcycle revs as he pulls into the street.

I wonder when he’ll notice that I’m, once again, occupying the parking spot that he’s deemed to be his since moving into the empty townhome next door last week.

You see, I drive a small electric vehicle whose carbon footprint is nearly non-existent. I actually care about things like the environment and global warming and doing my part in leaving a healthy planet for future generations.

It doesn’t make me a better person, by any means. But if it’s a competition between who deserves the prime parking spot of the neighborhood–I think there’s an obvious winner.

The prime spot sits between our two townhomes and just so happens to fit only two types of vehicles: a small electric car like mine. Or a motorcycle, like his. But I was here first, which means–I get to call dibs.

I peek out the corner of the blinds just above my bed and watch as he puts his bike into park across the street in a very inconvenient location. His movements are abrupt as he dismounts from the bike, tossing his leg over the side and yanking his gloves off his hands as he takes long strides up the sidewalk toward his house.

No wait… towardmyhouse.

I try not to make any sudden movements that might alert him to my peeping Tom ways. I make sure the light stays off when I move the tiny sliver of the blind to try to catch him taking off his helmet before he enters his house at night. But he never does.

It’s been nearly five days since the cocky guy moved in, replacing my sweet elderly neighbor whose family decided to move her into a nursing home due to a recent fall.

For her, I gladly parked across the street every day just so that she could have a more convenient parking spot to unload her groceries.

But this jerk–the one who revs his motorcycle at all hours of the night and blasts music that makes my walls vibrate and has a mouth that has no idea what an indoor voice sounds like when he’s shouting at whatever game he and his dumb friends play–he deserves no such treatment.

I have no idea what the guy even looks like. I keep missing him when he leaves at random times during the day. And I’ve only been able to catch him coming back with a full-face helmet in place. Not that it makes any difference to me because I don’t like him.

There’s a loud knock at my door, and my heart nearly leaps into my throat.

Shit. It’s him.

I melt off my bed and onto my floor, crawling on my hands and knees into the closet and hoping he’ll just disappear. It’slate. The sun is down. This would be a reasonable hour to assume that I’m in bed, not an hour to be knocking on your neighbor’s door.Rude.

I bring my knees up to my chest and reach for the skates next to me. At least if he tries to break in, I can use the blade as a weapon.

There’s another–more aggressive–knock. But I don’t make any moves. Surely he knows I’m home given that my car is quite literally parked right up front. So he’ll know I’m deliberately ignoring him.

But I could be in the shower. Or on a very important zoom meeting… or in the middle of the best sex of my life for all he knows, but instead he thinks he’s entitled to knocking on my door at whatever hour he deems suitable.

Entitled brat.

The doorbell rings.

God, he’s persistent. I suddenly regret not getting that doorbell camera on Black Friday like my brother insisted I should do. If I had it, I’d be able to just pick up my phone and tell him to go away because I’m busy.

But I’m not busy. I was just spying on him.

Another loud knock.

He’s not going away. It’s time to face this dick head-on. Besides, this isn’t me. I don’t shrink away from a fight. I might be living alone now, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a grown ass woman that can handle her shit.

I stand and pull the robe off the hanger next to the unruly, fluffy white dress that’s currently taking up most of the space in this closet. And as I make my way through the hall and down the stairs, I quickly palm my hair into submission before flipping on the porch light and opening the door with vigor.

“What do you want?” I hiss out, making sure not to hold back my disdain to him pounding on my door so late.

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