Page 7 of Loathe Thy Neighbor

“What’s that about my ass?”

2

Dean

It never fails.

Rain or shine, River White is always at The Gravy Train on Sunday mornings. Even if her best friend Maya doesn’t show, River is here, because River loves cherry pie as much as I do.

Actually, I’ve concluded she likes anything sweet. She always seems to be snacking on green M&M’S, and because we’ve shared the same elevator on grocery days one too many times, I am aware of the things she buys, even when I don’t want to be, like that time she bought a wholesale-sized box of condoms.

In the year I’ve lived here, I haven’t met another person who annoys me and intrigues me as much as my neighbor does. One second, she’s sweet and smiling. The next, she’s ready to rip someone’s head off.

Usuallythat someone is me.

If there’s one thing about River I’m certain of—other than her love of pie—it’s her hatred of me.

I let my eyes roam over her as she stares at me with a look that says,I’ll kill you, then I’ll help them look for your body.

Full of fire and probably a little bit of demonic possession, she stands just shy of five foot five. Her deep red hair—forged in the pits of hell, I’m sure—hangs loosely down her back, just begging to be pulled. Today she’s wearing what I’ve come to recognize as her “I had another failed date and ate a pint of ice cream and half a box of cookies” attire: joggers and a shirt with more holes in it than Swiss cheese.

Yet, she’s still drop-dead gorgeous.

And that’s the part that irritates me the most.

No matter how often—and it’sveryoften—River makes her feelings for me clear, I’mstillundeniably physically attracted to her, even when I don’t want to be.

She’s borderline rude. She’s obnoxious. Bossy. And she’s the worst neighbor in the entire fucking world.

I only wish my dick would catch on to all that.

I plop down onto a stool across from my enemy.

“You were saying something about my ass?” I set my plate down and situate Leo on the table next to me. He ducks back into his shell, a little nervous of his surroundings, but he’ll pop back out as soon as he sees there’s no threat. For a creature that typically likes to do the solo thing, he’s oddly friendly. Even more so on Sundays, the day I take him to the park and let him explore.

“Are you shitting me?”

River’s angry mutter cuts through me…and heads south.

Like always, I ignore it.

There’s no point in acknowledging it. I don’tactuallylike her. It’s my dick that likes her. It also likes when I see a shape in a wooden table that resembles a pussy.

It’s nothing but my cock talking.

It’s absolutely nothing personal and all just imagery.

“Come on now, River. I don’t need to hear about your shits. I’m trying to enjoy my pie.” I stab my slice with my fork, shoving a healthy bite into my mouth.

She stares at me, lips twisted up with rage.

I grin at her around the delicious baked goodness.

Beats me why she despises me like she does, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t fun to screw with her and get a rise.

She seethes, gritting her teeth. “I hate you.”

“River!”

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