Burn Falls

by Kimberly Knight

  Lorelei waved me off. “No, I don’t need an attorney. Before I could do anything, Tom got in her face and told her to back the fuck up.”

  “Oh. Does he need a lawyer now?”

  “No.” She rolled her chocolate brown eyes. “You don’t even practice criminal defense.”

  “Fine,” I agreed. “Continue.”

  “This chick burst into tears. Tears! In the middle of the club.”

  “Wow …” I breathed, flipping my long, dark hair over my shoulder. “Why did she cry?”

  Lore shrugged. “I guess they recently broke up and she’s still in love with him. Funny thing, I don’t care. I’m never going out with that dude again. I don’t need that shit in my life.”

  I chuckled. “Gotta love online dating.”

  “Right?” She took a sip of her cosmo. “And what guy takes a girl to a club on their first date? I mean, I like to dance and drink as much as the next girl, but I’m not putting out unless they at least feed me.”

  “You’re too much.” I laughed.

  “That’s why you love me.” She grinned and smoothed her hair down.

  “I love you because you save my ass on a daily basis.”

  “I do save your ass daily,” she agreed with a laugh.

  We had been working for a family law firm in Beverly Hills for over five years. We met the day she was hired by Chandler & Patterson, LLP as my paralegal. She was my eyes to make sure I didn’t screw up any pleadings, and my paper pusher, making sure my client files are in date order and pristine—among other things. And she’s my best friend. Some firms frowned upon attorneys friending “lower” colleagues, but not C&P. When an assistant worked well with the person they were assisting, it was like a well-oiled machine.

  Chandler and Patterson was a high-profile law firm that represented well-known famous actors/actresses, directors, musicians or other people in the limelight getting divorced and/or had custody issues. Given our clientele, we also specialized in prenuptial agreements and tried to do mediation when we could. Most of our clients didn’t want the public to know what was going on in their marital lives.

  I got into law because of my father. Before he retired, he was a criminal defense attorney for twenty plus years, and then a judge in Los Angeles. I wanted to follow in his footsteps, and while I didn’t practice criminal defense, my ultimate goal was to become a family law judge one day.

  “So, did the chick leave or what?” I was interested in hearing the end of the story since my dating life was shit. Shit meaning I went on dates that never led anywhere. I either didn’t like the dude, or once he found out what I did for a living, it turned him off because he assumed I’d take him for all he was worth if we ever got a divorce in the end. Sure I knew what to do and what not to do when it came to the financial aspects of a marriage, but not all marriages ended in divorce. Needless to say, those guys weren’t the right ones for me.

  Lorelei snorted. “I don’t know. She ran off crying, and I didn’t see where she went. Tom bought me a few more drinks, we danced, and then I went home.”

  “Alone?” I smirked.

  She furrowed her eyebrows. “Yes, alone. The guy had no potential. He was cute and all, but I don’t have time for girlfriend drama. I’m too old for that shit.” I was two years older than her thirty, so I was too old for that shit too.

  “At least you have men interested in you.”

  “Pey,” Lorelei leaned forward and grabbed my hand, “you have men interested in you. You’re just not interested in them.”

  It was my turn for my eyebrows to raise. “No, I don’t.” I knew that wasn’t exactly true. I was picky.

  She blinked slowly, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe what I’d said. “See that guy over there?” She nudged her head at the bar.

  I turned and saw a guy with a buzzed head of brunette hair, dressed in jeans and a button-down blue shirt, looking our way. “Yeah?”

  “He’s been staring at you for the last twenty minutes.”

  “He’s staring at you,” I argued.

  “Um, no.”

  I looked at the guy again, and he raised his tumbler. I turned back to Lorelei. “Okay, so maybe he is looking at me, but only because it’s a Friday night and he wants to get laid.”

  “And?” She chuckled.

  “I’m not into that kinda thing. I want to be fed, too.”

  We both started laughing, and I turned to look at the guy again to see if he was still looking at me. He was, but he scowled then looked away.

  “Aw, he thinks we’re laughing at him.”

  I shrugged. “Good, he’ll stop staring.”

  “We’re fucking bitches.”

  I nodded. “We are. But I came to have a drink with my friend after work. I didn’t come here to have a one-night stand.”

  “Maybe you need one.”

  I turned my head slightly and narrowed my eyes. “What?”

  “You’re so wound up because of work. I get it, it’s stressful, but that’s more of a reason to get laid.”

  “Well, not with that guy.” I waved my hand in the direction of the poor dude.

  A smile spread across her ruby lips. “Well, let’s find you one.”

  My Uber driver dropped me off at the front door of my building, and after taking the elevator up to my floor, I stumbled out three sheets to the wind. Lorelei and I had drunk one too many cosmos—five if I remember correctly. And because we were in our own world, gossiping and people watching, we didn’t find me a guy to go home with. That wasn’t really my thing, though. Plus a lot of the men who frequented Rick’s were lawyers, and I didn’t want to get involved with someone I had cases against. That could get messy, and it was unethical. If attorneys did get involved with each other, they needed to inform their clients, and then one of the attorneys would need to withdraw from the case so it wasn’t a conflict. Who wanted to do that for a one-night stand? Not me.

  As I passed my neighbor’s place, I placed my hand on the door wishing he’d open it, pull me in and fuck me. If I were to have a one-night stand, I wanted it to be with my sexy neighbor. Apparently, a lot of women had lived out that fantasy. I heard him all the time enjoying the company of those women, and each of them sounded different. I giggled to myself as I stood outside his door, remembering some of the things I’d heard.

  “Did you get that lamp at Target?” one woman had asked between moans. “I’m gonna fuck you hard!” another woman had shouted. At first, I’d thought it was Sam shouting because it sounded like Batman’s deep growl. And another that had me laughing so hard was, “You like that, you saucy biscuit?” Where Sam found these women was beyond me. And the ones who moaned over and over and over annoyed the fuck out of me. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was that good in bed or they thought their screams were sexy.

  And every time I wished it were me.

  Since I was buzzed, I wanted more than just a quickie with my vibrator tonight, but my neighbor didn’t open his door, so I carried my drunk self to my condo. Thinking about it, I should have had that guy with the shaved head at Rick’s buy me my drinks and take me home. At least I wouldn’t be pining over my neighbor, who didn’t even know I existed.

  That wasn’t true.

  Sam knew I existed, but only that I was the girl next door. We’d never said more than two words to each other in the three years that we’d been neighbors. Maybe he had a rule about not eating where he shits or, in this case, fucking his neighbors. Maybe he thought I had a man. Or maybe he thought I was ugly. I never saw the women he brought home (only heard them), so maybe he only screwed supermodels who talked like superheroes or had a thing for comfort food.

  After stripping my clothes and leaving a trail back to the door, I stood in front of the floor-length mirror in my bedroom. No, I definitely wasn’t a supermodel. For one, I wasn’t tall and all legs. I was fi
ve-five, and I only had normal-sized breasts. Not the ones that spilled over the cups of bras or the ones that needed a push-up bra to even look like boobs. I’d heard the saying that a man really only needed a handful. I had that covered, but no more than that. I wasn’t fat, but I wasn’t runway material either. I was normal. I weighed what was right for my frame.

  My desire to be with Sam started to fizzle out as I continued to stare at myself, thinking of all the reasons why he never gave me a second look. And then it happened …

  “Yes!” the woman screamed. “Yes! Right there!”

  I knew what she was referring to behind my bedroom wall. I’d never seen it, but if the banging was any indication, I knew he was fucking her hard because his headboard was hitting the wall next to mine.

  Bam.

  Bam.

  “Yes! Fuck yes!”

  Bam.

  Bam.

  “Well, son of a bitch,” I muttered to myself. My buzz was definitely wearing off, and my hatred for Sam was rising. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  “You like that, Nikki?”

  “Yes!” Nikki screamed again.

  I rolled my eyes. Well, I could have answered that question.

  Sam started to groan, Nikki started to moan, and I’d had it. Before I knew what I was doing, my butt-ass-naked-self was banging on the wall between our condos. “Stop!” I shouted. “Some of us are trying to sleep!”

  I was such a loser. Sure it was late, but it was a Friday night, and I’d just let my hot ass neighbor know I had no life because I was “sleeping” at three in the morning and not getting my brains fucked out like Nikki.

  The banging of the headboard stopped, and I sighed. It worked. If only I’d done that years ago, Sam might have realized I could hear him and maybe he’d pick a different place to screw them. Like the couch or the kitchen counter. Hell, maybe even the floor.

  I started to walk toward my attached bathroom when there was a knock on my front door. I stopped mid-step and didn’t move hoping he’d leave. There was only one person it could be, and apparently, I’d pissed him off. More knocks came, and I held my breath. If he couldn’t hear me breathing, he’d assume I was sleeping.

  And more knocks.

  “Open the door, Peyton.”

  He knew my name? I mean, I knew his name because I was a woman and we did that shit. As soon as I’d seen him when he moved in, I wanted to know his name, but of course, I couldn’t ask him. That would be crazy.

  I wasn’t shy. I had to present cases in a courtroom, and all eyes would be on me as I spoke. I also met with strangers every day, from new clients to attorneys I’d never worked with before. But this was different. This was Sam. This was the hot neighbor whose name I knew only because I’d heard a chick screaming it. Of course, that was when I had a glass to the wall and my ear pressed against it, trying to hear what was happening in his bedroom. Little had I known I didn’t need the glass. But I had no idea he knew my name.

  “Peyton, open the door.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes. Sam had said more than two words to me now. Granted it wasn’t face-to-face, but if I opened the door, it would be more than the eight he’d already said.

  “I’m not going away until you answer the door.”

  I wasn’t sure how our neighbors were feeling about Sam yelling at my door. It was late—or early. However you wanted to look at it.

  Sam knocked again. “Damn it, Peyton. Open the fucking door.”

  Before he caused more of a scene, I snagged my robe from the back of my bathroom door and threw it on as I made my way to the front door. Thankfully I wasn’t sleeping. My hair and make-up were still intact and gave me a little more confidence when I swung the door open.

  “What?” I hissed.

  He opened his mouth to speak, and then I watched as his eyes traveled down my body and then back up. “I thought you were sleeping?”

  “I said I was trying to,” I clarified.

  “You sleep in full makeup?”

  I scowled. Who was this guy? “No, I just got home and was getting ready for bed until I heard you—”

  “Do you want to join us?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Sam smiled, and then I remembered why I was infatuated with him. He was tall, dark and handsome: the perfect combination. His white teeth shined against his olive skin, and I swallowed. My gaze then traveled down his bare torso, and my eyes widened. I’d never seen him shirtless, and fuck me, he was perfect. Washboard abs, a trim waist that connected to that V that drove women crazy, and not a lick of hair on his chest. His lower stomach was a different story, and I knew exactly where the light dusting of hair went.

  “Do you want to join us?” he asked again.

  “How do you know my name?” I blurted.

  “What?” He chuckled.

  “How do you know my name?” I repeated.

  “Because we’ve lived side-by-side for three years.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “But we’ve never said more than hello to each other.”

  “Do you know mine?” he asked.

  I snorted. “Kinda hard not to when the women scream it nightly.”

  “Does it turn you on?”

  “I … What is this?” I asked, moving my hand back and forth between us.

  Sam placed a hand on the doorjamb then moved in closer as he whispered, “You weren’t sleeping, and are dressed only in a black robe, which leads me to believe hearing me fucking a chick was turning you on. So I want to know if you want to join us.”

  “But when you came over here, you didn’t know I was only in a robe and not sleeping,” I corrected.

  With his free hand, he ran his fingers along the silk collar of my robe. “I’ve seen how your eyes drop when you see me, and a tint of red spreads across your cheeks. I know you want me, and I figured hearing me turns you on. I want to get you in my bed.”

  I stepped back, and his hand fell away from my clothes. “You think that I’d want to share you?”

  Sam cracked another smile. “Have you ever had a threesome?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “That’s a no. In that case, I’ll kick Nikki out and it can just be us.”

  What the hell was happening? “I’ll pass,” I stated, and reached for my door to close it.

  Sam grabbed it. “You sure?”

  I was starting to realize that my fantasy with this jerk was only that—a fantasy. He wasn’t who I thought he was. I mean, he did sleep with a lot of women, but I just thought…

  I thought he’d one day realize the girl he wanted lived next door to him.

  I was totally a loser.

  “I’m not into that.”

  He smiled again. “Into what?”

  I waved my hand in the direction of his condo. “Being another notch on your bedpost.”

  He laughed. “Peyton, we’ve been neighbors for a while. I know you want to be another notch, and I’m giving you the chance.”

  “You’re such an asshole.”

  “But you’ve thought about it, right?” he asked, totally ignoring the fact I was pissed and had just called him an asshole.

  Not wanting to give him even more of a bigger head, I said, “I thought that you were a nice guy.”

  “I am a nice guy. When I want something, I go after it. Doesn’t mean I’m an asshole.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest again. “Why now? Why are you willing to kick that poor girl out?”

  “When you banged on my wall, I realized that I could be fucking you, so I came over here to get you. Nikki is down for whatever. If I can only have you alone, then I’ll kick her out.”

  “Have you ever heard the saying too little too late?”

  “Don’t be like this, Peyton. You know we both want each other. I
’m sorry I waited until now.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Wanted.”

  “What?” He tilted his head.

  “I’ll admit that I thought you were cute. But now I know you’re a sleazeball, and I don’t want to catch anything. Have a good night.” I pushed him back and closed the door in his face. I was definitely no longer drunk or horny. In fact, I wanted to move right then and there. What had I’d been thinking? He’d been with countless women. Countless!

  I picked up my discarded jeans and blouse as I walked back to my room and went to take a shower. I felt dirty just being in the same space as Sam. When I got out of the shower, it sounded as though he was literally screwing Nikki against the wall. I heard what I assumed was her body moving up and down the wall as he thrust into her. Sam was trying to torture me.

  There was no way I’d be able to sleep with my head next to all the moaning. Therefore, I grabbed a pillow off my bed and went and slept on my couch.

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