Page 10
A loud knock at the door made me pause and glance back at the entrance hall.
“What was that?” Abed asked.
Reece cracked up. “A door, bro. A visitor. Not used to it, huh?”
“It was mine,” I said woodenly, sighing when I heard another knock.
“Someone’s knocking on your door on a Monday evening? Weird, dude,” Neville muttered. “Are we playing or what?”
“You guys get started. I’ll be back in a sec.” I tugged off my headset and stood, shifting into my human form before making my way across the living room to answer the door.
When I tugged it open, my gut bottomed out.
Because Dan fucking Ewen was standing there.
“Howdy, neighbour.” He smirked at me. My nostrils flared, face tightening.
Goddamnit. I’d just started to relax.
My mom had always told me I could be pretty curt and blunt. I had to make an effort not to come across as rude a lot of the time. It was particularly hard with this asshole.
Hand clenching tighter on the doorknob, I gritted out, “Hi.”
He held up a six-pack. “Thought we could celebrate you becoming a Goliath.”
What? I stared at him blankly. Why the fuck would we do that? Together? We weren’t friends. We barely tolerated each other.
“I’m busy,” I said shortly, then shifted when a tendril of guilt snaked through my gut. He wasn’t actually being a dick right now. I was being the dick right now. “Uh… thanks, though?”
Ewen huffed in amusement and gave an easy shrug. “Maybe another time, then. Oh.” His smirk returned. “And don’t worry about that little embarrassing moment earlier. You know, when you pressed your face against my tits.”
Heat crept up my neck and prickled my skin. All traces of guilt fled as I narrowed my eyes at him, but before I could stop it, my gaze darted down to his chest. At least it was covered by a T-shirt this time. A stupidly tight T-shirt. With his own bare chest printed on it. The words ‘Dullahan Dan’ were painted over his chest hair in gooey black ink.
“Eyes up here, handsome.”
I stiffened, nostrils flaring again as my seething gaze shot back up to his smirking face. His grin widened, becoming a little lopsided, and he held out the six-pack to me.
“Welcome gift.”
“Keep it.”
“Well now, that wouldn’t be very neighbourly of me, would it?” He tutted and rattled the six-pack, making the bottles clink. “Save it for when we can have those drinks together.”
I gritted my teeth and reluctantly snatched the six-pack from him. “Maybe once you’ve fixed my fence,” I got out in a tight voice, giving him a sharp smile.
He chuckled. “It’s on my list, handsome.”
“Stop calling me that.” My hand clenched too hard around the six-pack’s handle, squashing the cardboard. “Don’t call me that at work.”
His mouth twitched as he folded his arms. “Then what should I call you at work?”
“Nothing. You don’t need to talk to me at work.” I gestured vaguely at my front porch. “In fact, you don’t need to talk to me here, either. Unless it’s to tell me you’re fixing my damn fence.”
“I said it’s on my list, didn’t I?”
“It’s been on your list for six fucking months,” I hissed.
“I’m a busy man.” He waved a hand, infuriatingly calm and relaxed.
