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She finally raised her head from her phone and released an exhausted breath.
“Brooke,” I greeted her, and she forced a smile on her face. I knew she had blocked me ever since I sent her the first text, because I would send her regular updates involving the petition—I was just being an informative neighbor—and none of the texts were read.
“Hi,” she snarled, seeming like she had forced herself to greet me back.
“Have you managed to not burn your apartment down? I saw a glimpse of the future if you continue living in this building,” I teased, and she sighed as she looked at me from the corner of her eye.
“Leave me alone.”
“Have you been behaving?”
“Why do you care? Now leave me alone,” she gritted, and I tilted my head to the side.
“I can’t leave you alone. You bother me.”
“I bother you?” She sounded shocked, and I nodded. “You’re the one who bothered me while I was texting on my phone.”
“Just wanted to see if you’re being responsible. You worry me.”
“I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I don’t need any of your concern!”
I leaned in closer as I noticed that her expression had shifted from surprise to annoyance. She was interesting.
“No candles burning lately?”
“I learned my lesson the first time. Doors are expensive, and I have been on my best behavior! Promise,” she said sarcastically, and I could feel my lips threatening to stretch out into a smile, so the best I could do was scoff and offer a smirk.
She is odd.
“Good. Daddy is pleased.” Horror and disgust took over her face as she let out some weird sounds as she took a few steps back.
“You—” she gasped and shook her head as she blocked her ears with her fingers. “You’re disgusting!”
“Relax, Brooke; I’m just messing with you,” I grinned, and she pretended to barf. As she raised her middle fingers, I couldn’t help but notice how bouncy her brown hair was.
She really was gorgeous; I thought so the first day I met her, even though it was in the most annoying circumstances. She was pretty then, too.
But dammit, Brooke is annoying!
“You’re a really disgusting man,” she whispered, and I watched her go. She was unpredictable, fiery and intriguing. I wondered just what she would do once the petition was successful.
Perhaps she would create one that would counterattack my petition. Maybe I had underestimated her.
I entered my apartment and grabbed a water from the fridge, replaying our banter in the hallway. I can’t believe I expressed my concern over her, and she pushed back.
Brooke had a story; I could see the vulnerability in her eyes. I knew those eyes way too well— they had the same vulnerability I had seen in war-torn eyes years ago.
She felt familiar.
Chapter 8
Brooke
I still couldn’t believe it. Matthew had asked me to go out for drinks with him. Just the two of us!
I had already forgotten about my weird interaction with Asher. Daddy is pleased? What in the world did that mean, and when had we gotten to the part of our relationship where we could joke around?
Ew.
