Page 22 of How to Deal

Tathan’s shiny Lexus is in the parking lot at our apartment building when I get off work, the silver paint gleaming in the setting sun, parked next to Casey’s car.

Casey usually stays the night with me on Fridays since Bryan works the night shift on the weekends.

I’m inside the lobby with its air-conditioning blasting my face. I check my mailbox, and sure enough,he’staken my mail, again. I want to remind him stealing someone’s mail is a federal offense, but I’m sure to a guy like him that wouldn’t matter. I’d call the cops, but he’d probably wink, and the officer would let it go. Or my luck a female officer would show up, and he’d invite her in.

Instead, I ask the receptionist who usually ignores me. “Excuse me, Ms., can you tell me how someone could get into my mailbox?” I hold my keys up, dangling them in the air. “My mail is missing nearly every day, and my neighbor takes it.”

Ripping out her earbud, the girl behind the counter stares at me like I’m speaking a language she doesn’t understand. “What?”

I frown, knowing I’m not getting anywhere with this gum-popping twit. “Never mind.”

Making my way upstairs, I pound my fist on Tathan’s door and almost die when he opens it. He’s still wearing the jeans from earlier only the shirt is gone. It’s everything I can do to, one, not run my fingertips over the muscles popping out, and two, not stare, but when he turns his back, I do wipe the drool from the corner of my mouth and follow him inside.

“Where’s my mail?”

He gives a small grin, rubbing the back of his left hand down the side of his jaw. “Where’s that dog of yours?”

“Haven’t freed him yet.”

“I set your mail over there.” He points to his dining room table.

Okay, so he’s making me get it myself. Probably so he can trap me inside and tie me up. Not that I’m against that sort of thing. I’d probablylethim tie me up at this point. Sadly.

I’m not sure what to expect when I step foot in the apartment as I’ve never been inside before. We’ve lived next door to each other for months now, and this is my first adventure inside.

Not gonna lie, I half expected to see whips and chains around the room or maybe an X-rated room like Jade as well as a box of porn on the counter, but no such luck.

He’s actuallynormal.

Lining the walls of the entryway are family photos of him and his brothers. Even some of Aldon and him when they were younger. The more I look around, the harder it is to remember why I hate him.

Earlier today, I googled the symptoms of Chlamydia in a female so I could repeat them to myself whenever I have a lapse in judgment, like now. I try to repeat them, but I can’t seem to recall even one of the symptoms.

Casually, I glance around the apartment, which is exactly the same layout as mine, but still seems different. His furnishings are modern, with cool spa-like colors on the walls. It’s somewhat relaxing with the framed black-and-white photos everywhere.

Immediately, I recognize the style of them. They have the same markings as the ones in the office at work, the same ones in the coffee shop, and the same ones in the foyer of our apartment complex.

The photographer Casey’s trying to land. This Elliott Warren is literally everywhere I look.

Though I have no reason to be annoyed with this Elliott guy, I’m annoyed at how everyone worships his photography. Nobody is that good at taking pictures that the whole city has to treat him like he’s the Paris Hilton of the photography world.

I’ll admit hating this guy has more to do with the fact that everyone loved my ex-boyfriend in high school. Everyone. Even my dad thought he was the greatest. And look how that turned out. It was awful. He was lying, deceitful and a bastard.

“Not you too,” I groan. “Everyone is obsessed with Elliott Warren. I mean Christ, you’d think the guy was a member of the Beatles or some shit.”

Tathan smirks and looks up at me with a contemplative expression. “Hmm. . . well, he’s good at what he does. Don’t you think?”

“Pft. . .” I wave my hand around. “Overrated if you ask me.”

He lets out a laugh that’s somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, or a cough, can’t be sure, but it surprises me and makes me smile. It’s adorable and has me wanting to stay and banter longer, but I must go for the sake of my will. If I stay longer, he may weaken me.

“He has Chlamydia,” I repeat this several times as I walk toward the door, but unfortunately, I say it out loud.

“Who has Chlamydia?” He smiles, looking at his phone and then at me as if he can’t quite figure me out.

Believe me, dude, I can’t even figure myself out these days.

I ignore him. “I better go before Casey decides to sign me up for eHarmony.” I motion to the door.

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