Page 18 of At Your Door

“Is your TV mounted?”

Griffon’s brows furrow in amusement as she glances back at the 60-inch TV floating perfectly in the middle of her wall.

“Of course it is. Isn’t yours?”

I just stare blankly. This girl has been here for less than two weeks, and her place already looks like it came out of a home-style magazine. I don’t think I’ve met a single person in this building who’s ever mounted their TV on the wall.

My silence must be enough of an answer because she laughs and says, “Well, let’s go ahead and add that to your list of renovations.”

Quickly, I turn away as I feel color rushing to my cheeks. Instinctively, I giggle and shake my head at her comment, even though she seems completely serious.

“Uh, thank you for this. I really do appreciate it.”

“I mean, it’s the least I can do…” Griffon says, wide-eyed, and we both burst into laughter for the first time. It takes me a moment to realize it, but by the time I do, our laughs are already fading, and the awkward silence settles back in.

Avoiding eye contact, I clear my throat and speak up.

“Sooo, how did you get so ‘handy’?” I can’t help putting up air quotes, emphasizing the fact that she did a shit job in my apartment.

“Hey! I told you, it was the pipes, not me! Ben didn’t warn me how old everything was. The place couldn’t even handle the new parts I put in.”

We’re both laughing again.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I just had to ask,” I say, still smiling. “But seriously, where did you learn to do all this?” I gesture around, pointing at everything all at once.

Griffon chuckles. “Well, my dad worked in construction, and my mom was an interior designer. So, I guess you could say it’s in my blood.”

I’m actually surprised by her answer. “Wow, that’s incredible. You did an amazing job on your apartment, so that explains it.”

Griffon looks surprised, probably because—outside of my head—this is the first compliment I’ve given her.

She’s quiet for a moment as if contemplating something, but within seconds, she’s back by the doorway.

“Well, I should probably let you get settled in. I know today’s already been a lot.”

I smile softly and nod. “Thanks again.”

But before she’s fully gone, she pokes her head back in with a grin.

“Oh, by the way, I brought something from your apartment that I thought you might’ve forgotten.” My brows immediately furrow as she winks, subtly jerking her chin toward something across the room.

Confused, I turn and make my way around the bed—my eyes widening the moment I spot it. Sitting on a side table in the corner is the same brown box where I’d stashed the recently used toy.

Before I can react, I whip my head back around, only to find the doorway completely empty.

CHAPTER 11

MIA

“You dirty little whore!”

“El?!” My eyes snap to Eleanor, who’s currently double-fisting two cappuccinos with the biggest smile on her face.

“I fucking knew you’d do it—” She leans in close so only I can hear her. “—but I definitely didn’t think you’d go that far.”

I really should’ve expected this. I mean, this is El we’re talking about—of course, she was going to freak out. That’s why I didn’t tell her until I saw her in person, but now I realize that was a mistake, too.

Because “little whore” wasn’t even the first thing she called me today. At first, she didn’t believe me, so I was a liar. I mean, the story does sound insane: first, I masturbate to my neighbor, then my apartment floods, and now I’m living with said neighbor, who later surprises me with my own… or, I guess, her own sex toy that I just used.

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