Hate Thy Neighbor

by S. M. Soto

  It’s always tough having to tell an owner that their animal didn’t make it. The animal that was like a family member to them; the one they’ve spent thousands on to keep healthy. After we delivered the awful news, the rest of the workday seemed to drag along, and by the expression on everyone’s faces here tonight, I can tell they feel the same. We all need this more than we’d like to admit.

  I’m so lost in my own thoughts, as Kassandra and Lucy go back and forth with each other over one of their favorite shows, that I don’t notice who walks into the bar until it’s too late. Once their conversations trail off and I feel a sharp jab on my arm, I shoot a glare at Kassandra. Her gaze isn’t fixed on me, though. She’s staring wide-eyed at the entrance. Slowly, I turn to follow the trajectory of her gaze, and my eyes widen when I realize what had her pausing midsentence.

  Roman, who looks as good as ever, walks in with three other guys, all seemingly deep in conversation. I don’t even try to hide the smile that spreads across my face when I see him. Though, it falters the slightest bit, when I remember we’re not exactly friends anymore. If last night was any indication, I’d say he’s getting a thrill out of pissing me off again. The realization is saddening and sobering.

  He still hasn’t noticed me yet. Or maybe he has noticed me, and he’s decided to ignore me. When he doesn’t bother looking my way, that seems like the more viable explanation. Whatever the case may be, he seems to be in deep conversation and enjoying himself. I haven’t seen him this relaxed in a while. Not that I’ve been friends with him long enough to know his relaxed side and unrelaxed side. I don’t even bother being discreet as I watch him. I tune out Lucy and Kassandra, my gaze solely focused on him, as I take slow sips of my beer.

  He’s so irritatingly handsome and laidback. Dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans with a red and black flannel over a black shirt, he looks like a dark rebel who just demands the attention of the female species. His hair is in perfect disarray, with a few rebellious strands, hanging down over his forehead. I haven’t been able to just sit and enjoy looking at him in a while. For whatever reason, I don’t get that luxury anymore. It doesn’t escape my notice the way the other women here flock to him, all dying for a piece of him. That green flare of envy, of jealousy, fills my veins, yet again. I shift on the seat, uncomfortable with my sudden bout of anger.

  “You gonna go over and talk to him or sit and stare all night long?” Atticus taunts, raising his brow in challenge. I pause, wondering if I have the guts to go over there and talk to him, after he’s made it perfectly clear he wants nothing to do with me. Hell, the more I think about last night and the way I acted, the more embarrassed I feel.

  “Don’t you have more poetry to write?” I shoot back, knowing he hates it. Everyone who learns his name for the first time asks the same question. “Atticus, like the poet?” Nothing pisses him off more than having to come up with a civil response.

  He rolls his eyes. “Yes, Olivia. Very original. Quit being a pussy and get over there.”

  “I can’t. He hates me.”

  “Oh, just get the hell up already, would you? You’re ruining my view of him anyway with your big head.” I shoot Kassandra a glare, but I end up getting up from the table, so I guess her ploy worked. Wiping my suddenly sweaty hands down the sides of jeans, I inhale a deep breath.

  You can do this. Just go over and say hi.

  Sweet and simple. That’s it.

  I cross the bar, heading to the bar top, where he’s still chatting with his friends. One of them looks over Rome’s shoulder, locking eyes with me. He eyes me oddly, looking me up and down, before nudging Rome, indicating behind him.

  I watch it happen. His body stiffens the moment he takes notice of my presence. Slowly, he cranes his neck, not even bothering to turn his body toward me. He wears an impatient look on his face, a bored expression, as if he’s waiting for me to say what I need to say and then leave, so he can get back to whatever it was he was doing.

  My stomach clenches uncomfortably. “Hey, Rome. Funny seeing you here, huh?”

  Silence.

  He blinks slowly.

  That bored expression still tainting his handsome face.

  I look at his friend, who is purposely looking anywhere but at us, and when I glance back at Roman, he’s glaring at something behind me. Turning to look, I frown, when I realize the only person looking our way is Travis. And he’s wearing the same unhappy expression on his face.

  My brows dip, as I make another attempt to address Rome. “Look, Rome, if there’s something I did to make you angry with me—”

  “It’s Roman.” His voice is like ice. Like a lash to my skin. I feel the wound split open between us. I take a slow, wary step back. My heart is beating unsteadily. There’s an iciness that settles in my chest at his coldness.

  “Right. Okay.” I clear my throat, feeling like an idiot.

  “Is that all?”

  I look down, trying to hide the dejected expression, that’s surely plastered across my face. “Yeah.” I force a smile that looks more pained than anything. “That’s all.”

  I look back at his friend, one last time, and he looks apologetic on Roman’s behalf. The entire way back to our table, I feel their gazes on me. I feel stupid. Idiotic. Like a schoolgirl who has a crush on the hot jock, who is obviously not interested.

  I think what bothers me the most is the fact he couldn’t even look at me for long. His words hurt more than I’d like to admit. He was purposely being cruel, knowing how dumb I’d look standing there. He wants me to feel this way. A sharp pain ripples across my chest, and I refrain from clutching a hand to the center to rub it away.

  When I take my seat next to Kassandra and Lucy, I bypass my beer and reach for a shot, that’s resting in the center of the table, instead. I down the thing in one gulp, grimacing, as it burns on the way down. I feel a warm, heavy hand clasp onto my shoulder.

  “Wow, look at you,” Travis praises. “Luce, would you mind scooting down a chair? I need to talk with Olivia.”

  I groan internally. Jesus, not tonight.

  Lucy pauses, her face slackening. I can tell she wants to say no, she can’t move, but, in the end, she gives in to him, just like she always does. Travis takes the chair next to mine that was once Lucy’s, and I suddenly feel claustrophobic. I’m hot. I’m upset. I should’ve just gone straight home, instead of coming here.

  I should’ve ignored Rome. I should’ve never gone up there and made a fool of myself in front of his friends.

  “Still think he isn’t an asshole?”

  I grit my teeth, at the knowing tone in Travis’s voice, because I don’t want him to be right. Brushing it off, I reach for the last shot on the table and down that one, too. He raises his hands in surrender, shifting his body toward mine subtly. He sets his hand on the back of my chair, so he can lean into me, speaking in hushed tones.

  “Look, Olivia, it’s okay to admit when you’re wrong. He’s a jerk. So what? Let’s be over and done with it.”

  I mull that over for a second. He’s not wrong, and he actually makes a solid point. Maybe I was wrong about my neighbor. Maybe Rome is the asshole I pegged him to be, and I just wanted to believe he was better than he actually was.

  “C’mon, let’s get some more drinks.”

  I shake my head, glancing toward Roman and his friends. The last thing I need is to look like I’m trying to strike up another conversation with him.

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

  Heaving a sigh, I follow Travis to the bar. We stand a few empty barstools away from Rome and his friends, and I use his broad back as a shield. I can feel Rome’s gaze burning into the side of my head, but I pretend not to notice. Like his proximity isn’t affecting me.

  “So, what brings you guys in here tonight?” Travis addresses Rome and his friends. I stiffen, glaring at his back.

  Fucking asshole tricked me.

  Rome’s friend answers with a shrug, “Just coming in for a few cold ones after wo
rk.”

  Travis smiles charmingly. “Right, right, we’re doing the same. Where do you fellas work?”

  “Automotive garage,” Rome answers, with a bit of snark. I still haven’t found the courage to look their way yet. This is just a bad accident waiting to happen.

  Travis makes a noise in the back of his throat, and my heart drops. Oh, good God. This isn’t happening. “That’s quaint.”

  “Quaint?” Rome grits. I can hear the warning clear in his tone. Finally, I summon the courage to look his way, and he’s staring at Travis, with a murderous gleam in his eyes.

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. But obviously, compared to a doctor, like me, there’s little to no competition.”

  Rome spears a heated look my way, and I have the decency to look embarrassed on Travis’s behalf. “And what would we ever have competition over?” Roman asks, his voice filled with ice. Slowly, he slides off the barstool, turning to face us. Travis smirks, and I realize too late what he’s doing. He’s taunting Roman.

  But why?

  I startle, my body going stiff, as he slides his arm around my shoulders. “Competition? There is none. Not where I’m concerned.”

  My gaze pings back and forth between the two men, both having a conversation of their own without words. Jaws are locked. Eyes narrowed in thin slits. Tension crackling in the air around us.

  What the hell is happening?

  My stomach revolts painfully when Roman looks at me. There’s so much to be read in his gaze, but what jumps out at me the most is betrayal. The man, who keeps his feelings boarded up behind a brick wall and thorns wrapped around his heart, is looking at me like I’ve forsaken him. I swear I even see a hint of jealousy there, but that can’t be right, can it?

  Roman scoffs. “There is no competition, pretty boy. Not when I don’t want what you have.”

  Their conversation and the hidden messages between them start to dawn on me. I choke on a breath.

  Are they…are they talking about me? But why? It’s not like I’m dating Travis. And it’s not like I’m dating Rome either. So, where the hell is this sudden pissing contest coming from?

  Travis smiles like he’s just won the lottery. “If that’s what you tell yourself, sure. Some people are just…undeserving of some things. Wouldn’t you agree, Olivia?”

  I jerk my gaze to his, eyes wide. Pressing my lips together, I shake my head slightly. “Please stop,” I whisper, so only he can hear.

  As if on cue, our drinks are sliding across the bar top. Travis picks them up, taking off with a shit-eating grin. I glance back at Rome and find him standing there, stiff as a board, glaring daggers at us. His hands are balled into fists, and the tic in his jaw jumps wildly, like it’s all that’s holding him back at this point.

  For the rest of the night, I sneak subtle glances at Roman. He’s talked to a few women but never for long. Every time one of them smiles and walks away, I can’t help but breathe a little sigh of relief that they won’t be going home with him.

  I truly am sick in the head.

  At some point, my bladder screams to be released. Seems all the drinks have finally caught up with me. I excuse myself and head down the wood and velvet hallway toward the bathrooms.

  “Olivia, wait!”

  I pause, turning around with a questioning expression on my face. Travis jogs up to me, glancing over his shoulder a few times.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Look, I know you said you just moved here but—” He pauses, and I have to shift on my feet, because my bladder is on the verge of bursting. All I need is to piss myself in this hallway. That would really be the cherry on top of tonight. “Listen, I like you, Olivia. You’re smart, funny, and insanely beautiful. You’re committed to the work, and I just can’t help but feel like there’s something between us. This attraction…it’s insane. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I feel it every time we’re in the room together.”

  Ice floods my body, and my breath gets lodged in my throat. My heart stops beating, and my lungs restrict air.

  What?

  What is happening right now?

  Travis takes a step toward me, and on instinct, I take a small, tentative step back. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Olivia. I just…fuck. I want you to tell me you feel this, too.” He closes in on me some more, and my heart lurches into action, doing its best to pound out of my chest. Something uncomfortable swirls in my belly, and I suddenly can’t stop my body from shaking. The shivers wrack through my limbs, continuously, as I try to process.

  My mouth drops open, and a squeak leaves me but still no words. Cool sweat seeps from my pores, when Travis steps closer. In my head, I’m screaming at myself to say something. To say no. Do anything I can to get him to stop this.

  Please don’t kiss me.

  Please don’t kiss me.

  Please don’t kiss me.

  I think this is the first time a sane woman has ever wished a handsome man would not kiss her.

  “Wait—” I pause, putting my hands up to stop him. He freezes, looking down at me expectantly. “Look, Travis, I think you’re a great guy. You’re insanely talented and handsome, but I just got out of a relationship, and you’re my boss. I don’t feel comfortable exploring anything between us.”

  Something flashes behind his eyes. There’s a slight tic in his jaw, and it looks like he wants to say something, but decides not to. Slowly, he steps back, giving me a wide berth, and I finally feel like I can breathe again.

  “All right.” He rakes a hand through his hair.

  Guilt is swift and all-consuming, as it slams into me. I feel bad that I had to turn him down. My heart tightens painfully at the dejected look on his face. I know it had to have taken a lot of confidence and courage to tell me this, but I just…I can’t.

  “I’m sorry, Travis.”

  He grimaces. “Don’t be.”

  With that, he turns, taking his heavy presence with him, and I collapse against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

  What the fuck was that?

  My bladder twinges, reminding me I still need to pee. Turning on my heels, I fly into one of the open bathroom stalls, and the entire time, I replay what just happened in the hall.

  I hope to God it won’t be awkward between us at work now. And Lucy. Christ, poor Lucy. If she finds out he made a pass at me, she’ll be crushed. I can’t do that to her. When I’m finished, I rest my hands on the porcelain edges of the sink, looking at myself in the bathroom mirror.

  “Get it the hell together, Olivia,” I hiss.

  Squaring my shoulders, on the way out of the bathroom, I try summon all the confidence I certainly don’t feel. I run my hands through my hair, brushing it out, so I don’t resemble someone who’s been in the bathroom ripping out their hair in frustration.

  “Rendezvous in the bathroom. Real classy.”

  My steps falter at the deep timbre, and a tingle travels down my spine. When I look up, I’m startled when I spot Roman, leaning against the wall. My hands curl into fists, as frustration bubbles in my gut. My chest grows tight with emotion.

  “What did you just say?”

  He rolls his eyes, brushing past me, without a word. My frustration reaches new heights, and I snap. I rush after him, gripping his solid arm to stop him from turning away from me.

  “Okay, what the hell is your problem? You’ve been acting like an ass all night long,” I hiss, yanking Rome toward me.

  He dips down, getting in my face. “My problem? He wants to fuck you. How can you not see it?”

  I purse my lips. This conversation would be so much less awkward if Travis hadn’t just done what he did in the hallway. “I never said I didn’t see it. I just…ignore it.”

  “So, what? You want to fuck him?”

  “God, no!” I blurt, darting my gaze around us, to make sure no one’s around to hear. “And what’s it matter to you? You hate me. You shouldn’t care about anything I do, or who wants to fuck me.”

&nb
sp; “It fucking matters, babe.”

  My stomach flutters, and my chest squeezes. That stupid, god-awful emotion—hope—invades my rational thoughts. “Why?” I search his ice blue gaze for answers. “Just tell me why.”

  We have a standoff, glaring down at each other, our chests heaving, working to accommodate our hatred.

  I scoff with a disappointed shake of my head. “That’s what I thought. You’re such a fucking asshole.” Shoving him out of my way, I whirl past him, angry with myself for even thinking, for one second, that Roman might feel something for me other than contempt.

  A surprised gasp rips from my chest when his hand closes around my wrist, yanking me back toward him. My heart lurches into my throat, as frissons of electricity fire through my body at his touch. Roman slips his hands into my hair and tugs me toward him. His mouth slams down on mine, his kiss, hard and hungry. It’s needy, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.

  Time suddenly slows around us. My hearing goes in and out. It sounds like I’m suddenly trapped underwater, and the only thing I’m positive I can hear is the sound of my blood rushing through my veins and my pounding heartbeat.

  I freeze, for only a second, before I lose myself in him. In his kiss. His touch. His smell. A moan spills from my mouth into his, when his tongue tangles with mine. His hand presses against my lower back, tugging my body flush with his. I wrap my arms around his waist, my fingers digging into the muscles there. Our mouths clash, both of us breathing each other in like air. Our hands grasp and grapple at each other.

  He pulls himself away from me, chest heaving, our bodies still touching. There’s fire in his eyes with the way he’s staring down at me. Every part of my body is aching. I find myself leaning into him, wanting more. I don’t know what’s happening at this moment. All the tension and the hatred we’ve felt toward each other has finally imploded into this. This mess of desire and unrestrained passion.