Page 52 of Loathe Thy Neighbor

“Yeah?”

A challenging brow goes up.

“Well, that’s too bad.”

Though I want to run, I turn away from him slowly, sauntering down the hall as nonchalantly as I can.

“Fucking hell,” he grumbles as I close my door.

Fucking hell is right.

10

Dean

“What the hellare you staring at?”

The fluff of white fur bores his bright blue, hate-filled gaze into me from the other end of the couch where I’ve been planted all day.

Morris does not like me one bit. He made that clear last night when I got up to use the bathroom and he swatted at me as I made my way down the hall. I’m now sporting two slashes across the top of my left foot that I know will sting later when I put my shoes on for my nightly visit to the gym.

With an annoyedmeow, the little shithead picks himself up and saunters off down the hallway, leaving me to enjoy bumming around without being watched.

I look over at Leo, and I swear he rolls his eyes at Morris.

“Same, dude. Same.” I reach over, running my finger along the glass of his terrarium.

He looks as tired as I feel.

It’s not often I take days to just lounge around. I’m not an overly busy man by any means, but I always tend to findsomethingto do to fill my time, like signing up for summer school or my volunteer work with the local animal shelter where I got Leo. Sitting still isn’t my thing.

But today, I needed it.

It’s been a long week, and I’ve been in constant go mode dealing with insurance, Lucy—who I swear is an angel—and the aftermath of nearly burning my own place down.

Shit, I’ve been so busy I forgot to tell my parents about the fire and received a nice phone call from my mother this morning that consisted of a whole lot of swearing and promises ofI brought you into this world, Dean Evans, and I can take you out.

I can thank Holland’s big mouth for spilling those beans.

After that horrid wake-up call, I decided a day of doing nothing sounded perfectly acceptable. Especially since I didn’t sleep for shit last night.

I couldn’t stop thinking about River…or how she looked bent over. How she looked practically standing between my legs with nipples as hard as rocks.

I had to fight so fucking hard to not reach out and touch her.

Just like I’ve had to fight hard today to talk myself out of stroking my cock to the image of her ass in the air.

I should be ashamed of myself for conjuring it up so many times, but I refuse. Not when she looked as good as she did.

Stop thinking about it, Dean. It’s a bad idea to go there.

I focus my attention back on the guitar in my hands, plucking at the strings. I’m not the best guitarist there is and I don’t play often, but it’s a good distraction when I’m trying to relax.

Keys slip into the lock on the front door, and Morris races back into the living room, perching by the door just as River pushes it open.

“Hi, baby.” She coos at him like he isn’t the devil in disguise, trading the purse in her hands for him, swooping the cat up and cuddling him close. I can hear his purring all the way from the couch as she scratches under his ears, peppering him with kisses.

Like she can feel my gaze, she turns her eyes to me.

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