Page 59 of Rosie and the Beast Next Door

She huffed out a breath and kept painting.

“You can’t leave me hanging,” I informed her. I folded my arms and leaned against an unpainted portion of the wall. She got closer and closer to my shoulder with the roller in a game of chicken. But I never lost.

Maybe Rosie never lost either, because the wet roller grazed my arm, and she lifted her eyebrows in response.

“Where was the chair, Rosie?” I leaned into the roller likebring it on.

We’d taken a million social media pictures. I didn’t have to look presentable anymore.

Her nostrils flared, and she pushed the roller over my shoulder and up toward my chin like a thief with a knife to my neck. I stared her down, daring her to do it.

“In front of Lily and Charlie’s yard. It was white, and the cushioned seat portion was missing. In my … state, I thought it was a toilet.”

I had to bend over, I was laughing too hard. The roller hit my neck on the way down, and I was officially painted on my left side. I didn’t care. It was worth it.

“Lily’d put the chair out on the curb for the trash.”

“What were you doing when my dad found you?”

“Exactly what you’re picturing I was doing,” she said through her teeth, but I could hear the laughter she was holding back. “I’d had a lot to drink, okay? I didn’t realize my lemonade was spiked until my pants were around my ankles and your dad’s flashlight was burning a hole in my retinas. That’snotan innuendo.”

Tears. When was the last time I’d teared up from laughing? She mussed my hair with her paint-spattered hand, and I stood up fully, knowing I must look a mess.

“Don’t move,” she said. She tossed the paint roller down and took her phone out to capture a picture of me.

“Get over here,” I said, dragging her under my arm. I rubbed my neck on her head, leaving a streak of paint that went from her forehead into her hair. She squealed but didn’t move an inch as she snapped some pictures of us. As I breathed in her fresh paint and coconut scent, my nose brushed her soft neck. She stilled, and her breathing sounded ragged. Or maybe it was my imagination. Because while I contemplated what her neck might feel like pressed beneath my lips, she rolled her eyes and pushed away from me.

Her attention remained fixed on her phone as she said, “I’m glad my tale of public urination is so entertaining for you.”

“It’s really more that my dad caught you in the act of public urination—”

“Stop,” she groaned, placing her hand over my mouth. “I can’t think about that part or else I’ll have to move and never see your dad again. And I happen to like him, despite everything.” She had a wistful expression as she said, “He was almost my father-in-law, once removed.”

“Yourwhatonce removed?”

“My father-in-law. Since Lily and my brother Bennett almost got married.”

“Ah, right.” Charlie had told me this, but for some reason it hadn’t clicked until now. Rosie could have been my sister-once removed, by this logic. I shuddered.Thank you, Lily.Though I wouldn’t put it past her to get back with Bennett just to spite me. “Why’d they break up?”

“I don’t know. Your sister called it off without an explanation. Bennett’s still heartbroken—but if you tell Lily that, justremember, I know where you sleep.” Though her words were threatening, she said it with very little venom in her voice. It was clear she loved her brother—no,brothers. And they were protective brothers, from the sound of it.

It was important to remember that. And to remember that this was all fake. And to not wonder how soft her neck would feel against my lips.

Rosie suddenly went very still. Great. My thoughts must have been broadcast across my face. Her gaze flew over my shoulder, and she tucked her hair behind her ear and painted with her body at a weird angle, as if conscious of her every limb. I turned around and saw the reason.

Or more accurately, the problem.

Max.

He hadn’t seemed to notice us yet as he walked down the street, staring at his phone. Punching him in the face might get his attention. It was worth a try.

“Stop glaring,” Rosie hissed. “Oh my gosh, he’s looking at us.” She whipped her head away and painted the wall as if her life depended on it.

“Why are you acting weird?” I murmured.

“This is how I act. This is normal.”

I raised my brows.

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