“Damn it!” I growl holding my finger that I just pinched in the plastic recycling bin by my house.
“Something wrong?”
My body jerks tight as that silky voice hits my back. I don’t know what shocks me more. It’s either the way his voice seems to slide deep inside of me and wrap around those secret parts that I’ve never shown anyone… or the fact that he’s speaking to me at all.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, not really wanting to talk to him.
He may not know it, but he’s keeping me up all night and has for weeks. I might feel better about it, if I could figure out why my body seems to be fascinated by this man. He’s an ass and yeah, he’s a good looking one, but he is still an ass. Maybe it’s my fault. I’ve gone too long without any outside interaction. I haven’t had a date in so long that I can’t remember when it was. I decline all offers to go out… I need to stop doing that. Maybe if I start going out and maybe even date my fascination with my grouchy neighbor will be over.
“You sound… frustrated,” he says, as this grin takes over his face, that both excites me and scares me.
“Uh… No, not really. I… What kind of game are you playing?” I ask him, deciding to just ask him outright.
“Game?”
“Exactly. You hate me, as near as I can tell you hate every woman you come in contact with. You flat out told me that we’re not going to be friends, you warned me away from your son and honestly, I could keep going. So why are you talking to me now?”
“I have another question for you,” he says and I frown, something about that look on his face warns me that I’m probably going to hate what he has to ask.
“What is it?” I question, carefully treading ahead.
“Is the fact that my son’s not here the reason you don’t want to talk to me?”
I blink. I don’t really understand what he’s asking.
“What?”
“I think I made myself pretty clear,” he responds and I just shake my head.
“You’re about as clear as mud.”
“I think you’re one of those women,” he responds, doing nothing to help with my confusion.
“What kind of woman?”
“The kind who play up to a man’s son just to get to his dick.”
“I… What did you just say?”
“I think you heard me.”
“I did, but I honestly can’t believe you said that to me. You’re really fucked up in the head, you know that?”
Something moves across his face. I see it. It’s almost physical and it looks painful. He doesn’t say anything else to me, he just turns and walks away. I want to scream at him; I want to demand he tells me what the fuck his problem is.
I do nothing but walk to my car. I’m late for work as it is. I don’t have time to worry about my neighbor from hell.