Page 2 of Dating Your Grumpy Neighbor
2
EMMETT
A few months ago, I moved into one of the rentals that my friend, Wyatt, owns after the disaster that was my failed wedding.
Not only did my fiancée leave me at the altar for her yoga instructor, who burst into the ceremony declaring his undying love for her. But the two of them ran off to go eat, pray, whatever, leaving me to cover the lease of an apartment in the city that I couldn’t afford by myself.
When this place opened up, I jumped at the chance to move in. But I couldn’t have known then that smack dab in the middle of my “I hate the everyone and everything” misery, I'd be living next to the ball of perpetual sunshine that is the woman currently pulling up in a cab.
Since moving in, I've watched from this front porch as she heads out on date after date with the foolish hope of someone convinced that they are going to be meeting their soulmate. And the temptation to tell her that love doesn’t exist, that it’s just a construct created by the greeting card companies to leach us all of our hope, happiness, and hard-earned money hits me every time she returns.
I take a sip of my whiskey and look up from my sketchbook as she slams the cab door.
"That stupid son of a motherfudger!”
Motherfudger?
Uh oh, Prince Charming must have really been a dud if Sunshine is pulling out the big guns with that one.
She pauses on her steps when she notices me sitting in the same spot I’m at every night around this time.
"Hi, Emmett," she says, her voice no longer holding the same vitriol it did a moment ago.
I nod my head at her in acknowledgment, but I don't say anything else. I'm not about to encourage her to try and befriend me like she did when I first moved in. Even if the lemon cupcakes she brought with her were the best-tasting thing, I've ever eaten.
She waits for a beat, hoping I might speak but gives up again and heads inside her house.
I return to my work, but I’m quickly interrupted again when I hear an engine revving as it accelerates down the quiet street. The headlights grow brighter in the dimming twilight as it approaches and squeals to a stop in front of Sunshine’s driveway.
A guy in a suit that looks like it’s worth more than my remaining art school student loan debt jumps out and stomps across her lawn toward the front door.
Sunshine’s curtains flutter, and I know that she sees him coming, but a part of me still sits a little straighter in my seat.
“Felicity!” he yells as he stomps up the steps to her door. “Open up!”
He slams his fist on the door twice, and I can hear the sound clear across the small patch of grass dividing our two houses as if he was banging on my door.
“Go away!” Sunshine yells back but has the sense not to open the door.
“Open up! You owe me five hundred and eighty-seven dollars for that little stunt you pulled.”
Well, now I'm really curious. He's got to have the wrong girl. Sunshine doesn’t seem like the type to do anything that could lead to something that would cost this guy almost six hundred dollars…not unless he deserved it.
I set down my sketchbook and pencils to rest my elbows down on my knees. This situation looks like it can get out of hand pretty quickly, and I need to make sure I’m ready if I need to step in. I may not be the friendliest of neighbors, but I’m not about to let anything happen to her either.
“Open up, you stupid bitch!” he yells.
Okay, that’s enough.
“Hey!” I stand up and yell.
The man looks around, startled like he didn't realize that there was someone watching him.
“The lady asked you to leave.”
“Thebitchowes me my money,” he snarls back.
“That’s two,” I say, holding up two fingers.
