My Enemy Next Door: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Nicole London

  As I was brewing a fresh pot of coffee, my next-door neighbor slammed a door shut and said, “What are you doing here, Andrew?”

  She paused for a few moments, and then she began moaning at the top of her lungs all over again.

  I gave up on getting any work done.

  I just gritted my teeth in between failed nap attempts as she fucked ten other men over the weekend …

  Chassie

  Present Day

  Manhattan, New York

  “Guess who was nominated for an Audie Award this morning?” I tugged at Sebastian’s sleeve as we stood in line at the firm’s coffee bar.

  “Is it the woman who still hasn’t done any of her second chair duties on her current case?”

  “Nope.” I smiled, holding my phone in front of his face. “Never heard of her, but Chassie Claire is killing it.”

  “Congratulations,” he said. “I can buy a special cake for you to celebrate this momentous achievement, if you like.”

  “What’s the achievement?” A deep voice said from behind.

  We both turned around.

  Tyler had taken a spot in line behind us, and even though he was still handsome as ever in a dark grey suit, he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days.

  “Long weekend for you, Mr. Hudson?” Sebastian asked.

  “Something like that.”

  “Should I take that to mean that you followed through with my recommendation to hit up Club Seven?”

  “No,” he said. “I’m having issues with my place at night. What’s the achievement, Kelsie?”

  “Chassie,” I corrected him. “And it’s none of your business. I don’t discuss my personal life with coworkers.”

  “You don’t discuss work with them either.” He smiled. “I can see why Mr. Walsh brought me in to take over on your behalf.”

  I bit my tongue.

  Don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him get to you.

  “I’ve scheduled interviews with witnesses over the next few days.” He kept talking. “Technically, that’s the second chair’s job, but I went ahead and did that. I also started new notes, since I’m not sure if you’re telling the truth about ever completing any. The client is what matters most, you know.”

  “I placed my folder with all my notes in the joint conference when I arrived three hours ago.” I refused to let him one-up me. “You’ll find recorded interviews with every witness, detailed timelines and date stamps with all submitted photos, and plenty of evidence as to why my client—not ours, will eventually walk away with a ten million dollar settlement in the end.”

  “In that case, it sounds like we should just have a coffee together and talk about something else.”

  “I’ll pass,” I said. “And If I were you, I wouldn’t get too comfortable in this city.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because, surely you can see that Mr. Walsh hasn’t been in his right mind lately. It’ll only take him a matter of weeks to see that my definition of dedication has never needed an unnecessary sidekick, and then he’ll pay you to leave.”

  “Is that what you’d really want?”

  “Yes.”

  “Say it, then.”

  “I want you to—” I couldn’t focus when he looked at me like this, when he stared into my eyes and called my bluff.

  “Is ‘issues with your place’ code for sleeping with tons of women?”

  “It’s code for my neighbor sleeping with tons of men,” he said. “She’s quite insatiable, and loud as hell.”

  “Maybe you should invest in a place that can adore soundproofing then.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I don’t.”

  We stared at each other in silence.

  “Next in line, please!” The barista’s shouting cut through our stare-fest.

  Sebastian popped a few almonds into his mouth, watching the two of us as if we were front row entertainment.

  “Um, do either of you plan on ordering coffee today?” The barista intruded once more.

  “Yes,” we said in unison.

  Before I could beat Tyler to the punch, he moved past me and placed a couple of hundred-dollar bills onto the counter.

  “This is for Miss Heritage’s coffee this month,” he said, nodding toward me. “I’ll have a secretary come pick up black coffees for my team in twenty, and you can keep the change.”

  He turned to walk away, but then he looked over his shoulder.

  “Oh, and Chassie?”

  “We’re not back on a first name basis yet.”

  “Fair enough.” He had the audacity to smile. “Miss Heritage?”

  “Yes, Mr. Hudson?”

  “I arrived at the firm five hours ago,” he said. “That’s my definition of dedication, and all these years later, my work ethic is clearly still in a league far better than yours.”

  “Fuck you, Tyler.”

  “Give me the date and time.” He was still smiling. “I’d be happy to give it to you.”

  “Say that a bit louder for Human Resources, will you?”

  He laughed and walked away.

  “So, you’re telling me that you have no desire to sleep with that man, and you never have?” Sebastian said from behind.

  “Never,” I said. “I told you. He’s on my shit list, and he always will be.”

  “So, you’re panties aren’t wet after the way he was looking at you right now?”

  They’re soaked. “Not at all. He looked at me that way in college, too. No big deal.”

  Chassie

  Sophomore Year Incident #2

  Cambridge, Massachusetts

  I have never worked this hard in my life.

  I’ve never had to.

  Before Tyler Hudson spun into my life’s orbit, I was always the talk of the professors and the department.

  Within six weeks of him being here, though, the tides have turned, and he’s reveling in every wave.

  To make matters worse, every time I see him, my nipples harden at the sight of his smile, and he can make my panties wet with something as simple as an unwanted wink in my direction.

  Sometimes, I almost think that we can be friends, but I can’t bring myself to do that.

  He’s too calculating, and we don’t need to talk outside of the classroom or the library.

  “Miss Heritage?” The department chair breaks me out of my thoughts as we walk through the quad. “Miss Heritage, did you hear what I just said?”

  “No, I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “What were you saying?”

  “That I’m highly impressed with how hard you and Mr. Hudson are working,” he says. “You two have once in a generation level work ethic.”

  I resist the urge to tell him that he just invalidated his own point by mentioning the two of us.

  “If everyone on this campus approached their work in the way you do, we’d have most of the world’s biggest problems solved by now.”

  “Well, it’s mostly me, sir.”

  “Ah, Mr. Hudson mentioned that you’d say that.”

  “Come again?”

  “Mr. Hudson came to me yesterday morning concerned that you may be working yourself a little too hard.” He looks down at me. “He didn’t want to come off condescending, so he asked me to convey the message. He’s such a gentleman.”

  “He’s such a fuck-boy …”

  “What was that, Miss Heritage?”

  “I was saying that Mr. Hudson is quite the student.”

  “He is, isn’t he?” He smiles. “It’s going to be so hard for us to determine which one of you will be awarded Scholar of the Class at the rate you’re going.”

  “Thank you so much for reminding me about that goal.” I damn near seethe. “I’ll never forget it again.”

  “Tyler brings it up all the time.”

  I bet he fucking does …

  I fake a smile through the rest of our conversation and storm across campus the moment we’re finished.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Amy
jumps in front of me once I’m on the steps of Tyler’s dorm. “Why does it look like you’re in a rage?”

  “Because I am. Get out of my way.”

  She places her hands on my shoulders. “Tyler again?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Move.”

  “After you repeat the mantra that calms you down.”

  “Fuck Tyler Hudson,” I say, feeling an instant sense of relief. “He’s an asshole who I’ll never forgive.”

  “Have you recorded it lately?”

  “I’ve even sent you a copy.”

  “Great.” She steps out of the way. “Now I can be one hundred percent certain that you won’t be convicted of a first-degree murder charge.”

  “It would be third degree,” I say. “I wouldn’t make it look premeditated.”

  Her eyes widen, and I rush inside before she can hold me back.

  I rush down the hall to his dorm room and bang on the door.

  No answer.

  I bang on it again, much louder this time. “I know you’re in there, fuck-face!”

  The door swings open, and Tyler answers wearing nothing but a pair of grey briefs. His six-pack abs are on full display, and the briefs are slightly hanging off his hips, exposing a perfectly carved “V.”

  “Yes?” He smiles. “How may I help you?”

  My breath catches in my throat as he leans against the door, as his gaze pins me to the spot.

  “Would you like to come inside?” he asks. “Is this a personal thing?”

  “No, this is a ‘You’re a jackass thing.’ It’s also an ‘I’m seconds away from hiring a hitman to handle you’ thing.”

  He raises his eyebrow, looking completely unfazed.

  Why does he have to be so fucking attractive?

  “You’re trying to sabotage my chances of becoming the Scholar of the Class by telling everyone that I need a break.”

  “You do need a break,” he says. “You’re killing yourself trying to keep up with me.”

  “I can keep up with you just fine.”

  “Would you like to come into my room and prove that to me?”

  “We have an exam in two hours.”

  “That’s plenty of time to prove your stamina.”

  “I think we’re talking about two separate things right now.”

  “I don’t think that at all.” He stares at my lips. “I may have been trying to sabotage you. It’s my competitive nature, though. You’ve done some super petty shit to me, too.”

  “Name one.”

  “Here’s three.” He’s still staring at my mouth. “You sent me a fake email about our group meeting being moved to one hour later to make me look bad.”

  I say nothing. It’s true, but it was payback for him not sharing his lecture notes with me.

  “Two, you let me turn in my part of the group project with three typos.”

  “I didn’t prevent you from running spellcheck.”

  “And three, you’re standing in front of my dorm room pretending like you don’t want me,” he says. “Maybe we can work something out if you just admit it.”

  “I’ll see you during our exam this evening,” I say. “Don’t get too excited about having the top score, because it won’t happen this time.”

  “I already took it.” A slow smile spreads across his face. “Oh, that’s right. You probably didn’t get the email from the professor moving it up by a day—yesterday. I guess someone hacked your inbox when he was concerned that you weren’t answering his emails…Good luck asking the professor for you to make it up.”

  Motherfucker…

  Tyler

  Present Day

  Manhattan, New York

  * * *

  Me: Chassie, deposition prep starts in fifteen minutes. Are you coming?

  Chassie: Not at all. I’m sure that you can handle it yourself, FIRST CHAIR.

  Me: I still need help with certain things …

  Chassie: Here’s the link to the best psychologist in the city. You’re welcome.

  Me: I showed up to the address you have on file with the firm so we could talk tonight, but it belonged to another employee. Can you give me your address, please?

  Subject: URGENT. The case files.

  These are due within the next three days. When do you want to work on them together?

  * * *

  Tyler Hudson

  Walsh & White

  Me: Okay, seriously. Issues with me aside, why aren’t you doing any of your goddamn work on the other cases?

  Chassie

  Present Day

  Manhattan, New York

  Subject: URGENT. The case files.

  Subject: Audio Narration Redraft Request #4

  Subject: New Audiobook Request: Erotic Kink

  I knew, deep down, which subject line I should click on tonight, which subject line would get me back on track.

  Passion won the fight within seconds.

  Subject: Audio Narration Redraft Request #4

  Hey there, Best Audio Narrator Ever,

  I really love your work, but I’m having a few issues with your latest submissions.

  I’m not trying to sound offensive, but the sex scenes don’t sound as raw or real as I was hoping. They um…They actually come off like the narrator hasn’t had sex in a while. LOL (Not my business, just being honest.)

  And the gag sounds are off a bit as well.

  Can you please re-record the dialogue and the effects?

  I need them to come off way more realistic.

  Thank you so much.

  Lisa Fathom

  New York Times & USA Today bestselling author

  Sighing, I poured myself a glass of wine and took a few deep breaths.

  I stepped into the soundproof room and pulled up the book again.

  The scene was relatively simple—a typical hero and heroine have sex in the backseat of the car. The only thing different was that they were having an “affair,” and their passionate moments were supposed to be “so powerful that they reset the world’s axis.”

  I had six hours to make this right.

  Then I’ll finally do my legal work. I promise.

  Tyler

  Present Day

  Manhattan, New York

  “AHHH…Fuck me harder. Harder. Harder, Austin!”

  It was official.

  My neighbor wasn’t a nympho after all.

  She was a faker.

  She’d banged a Thomas, Andrew, Austin, and a Liam this week alone. As if having endless fake sex wasn’t enough, she recapped it frame by frame until she had her next fill.

  I wasn’t judging in the slightest, but I wasn’t sure I could deal with another restless night with her loud-ass moans and her revolving door of guys.

  Now that I thought about it, I never heard any of the men arriving or leaving. There were never any heavy footsteps down the hall, no “Goodbyes” or “See you next times” uttered in the hallway, not even a door shutting between visits.

  Even if they were using the private elevator on the other side of our floor, there were a few other things that weren’t adding up.

  Her accent changed every other night, and she had a strange habit of saying, “I think we can do that better the next time, right?” ever so often, which no man in his right mind would ever return to hear.

  I’d gone down Redditt’s rabbit hole of ‘Handling Neighbors Who Have Loud Sex’ forums in hopes of finding someone who was going through the same thing, but this problem seemed to be rarely specific to me.

  And I was going to have to confront her sooner or later.

  “Ohhhh goddd, Jonathan!” She suddenly started again. “Oh…I’m about to…”

  Okay, fuck this shit.

  I got out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweats.

  We needed to talk.

  All three (or twenty) of us.

  Chassie

  Present Day

  Manhattan, New York

  I peeled a fresh banana to test my gag reflex for the thir
d time tonight.

  The smaller bananas went down just fine, but I was still struggling to get to the thicker ‘plantain’ level.

  I wanted to make sure that my gurgling sounds were accurate for Down His Throat next week.

  At the rate I was going, I was about to make three times more money this month and I was enjoying watching my bank balance rise by the day.

  I forced it halfway down and coughed.

  Shit.

  Still coughing, I gripped the edge of my counter with one hand and softly tapped my chest with the other.

  Ding dong! Ding dong!

  My doorbell sounded, but I ignored it.

  I poured a glass of water and took my time sipping it. Grabbing my small mic, I headed back toward the soundproof room, but the doorbell sounded once more.

  Ugh.

  Walking over to the door, I swung it open. “Yes? How may I—”

  My breath caught in my throat at the sight of Tyler shirtless and in sweatpants. His eyes were narrowed, and he looked angry as hell.

  “What the hell are you doing here this time of night?” I asked.

  His expression slowly softened, and he smiled. Still not saying a word, he glanced at the banana peel that was stuck to my shoulder, then down at the mic at my hand before looking at me.

  “Do I need to call my building’s security?” I tried not to glance down at the bulge in his pants. “I can do that.”

  “I’m sure you can,” he said. “I was coming to complain.”

  “Well, feel free to click on that anti-stalking link that I sent you the other day and go back home. Whatever you want from me, can be handled at work.”