Princess Next Door

Chapter One

Wynter Griffin gritted her teeth as once again the sounds of loud, heavy rock filled the air. How many parties could her damn neighbor have? He’d only been moved in for a week, and he’d had an excuse to celebrate every single night. She’d only just finished unpacking, and was now getting everything into order.

There was no way that her very inked neighbor had already gotten cozy. He had way more stuff than she did—she’d seen it all while he moved in—but he also had a lot of people helping him out, while she only had the help of the moving men. None of her family wanted to help, as they believed she was making a huge mistake.

This wasn’t because they didn’t want her to move out. No, they didn’t like that she’d not gotten married or had a baby. They were great believers in marrying young, raising a family young, so that you can enjoy it when you’re older. The guy she’d dated in high school … she cringed just thinking about it. He’d had a mean streak a mile long. She’d dated him because her parents arranged it all.

They made sure she was constantly in contact with him. Inviting him to dinner, making sure they were together for dates out. She was never bored because Carey was always talking … always. Sometimes, she actually fell asleep listening to him.

Shaking her head, she rubbed at her temples as the music vibrated the walls.

So, all alone, she’d moved out of her parents’ house and come here. Her grandparents had left her some money in their will, so she’d made her escape from the constant pressure of being advised to have kids.

She worked with kids Monday through to Friday as a teaching assistant, helping where children needed her most.

At twenty-five years old, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that settling down, marriage, kids, none of that was for her right now. She was still a virgin. There was no way she’d be giving herself to Carey, and when he’d tried on prom night she’d made sure he knew the score. Her body was her own.

Sitting down in the center of her hallway, she rested her hands on her knees and took in a giant breath.

Everything is fine. More than fine. It’s just loud music like it is every single night.

The first night, she’d been fine with it. In fact, she’d even danced around her home, crazy because that was what it was, her home. She’d been so excited and so happy that nothing had gone wrong.

She hated being negative but she’d also seen disaster over the years, and she didn’t want to think about it.

Feminine screams filled the air, and she opened her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t get to sleep tonight.

Determined to do something about it, she opened the door just as someone knocked.

“Wow, good timing.”

She stared at her neighbor of a week and refused to look at his muscular, inked body, which he had on full display as he only wore a pair of swimming trunks. She’d already seen from her bedroom that he owned a pool, and she didn’t. The previous owner, Slade something, had told her the pool was perfection, but he’d been in love with his neighbor, and she didn’t intend to ever fall for this guy.

“So, I was wondering, you want to come and join the party?” he asked, sticking his hand out toward her. “I’m Zane Webster.”

Staring at his hand, she didn’t want to be rude, and years of being taught proper etiquette had her gripping his hand, not too hard though. Her mother’s constant nagging about a woman not wanting to appear butch and strong kept rolling around her head.

“Hi, I’m Wynter Griffin.”

“Pretty name for a beautiful woman. How about you join us?”

She shook her head. “I was, erm, I was wondering…” She really didn’t want to think about how good it felt holding his hand, or how nice he looked.

Nice was too subtle a word.

He was fucking hot.

She never swore though.

Often in her mind but never out loud for anyone to hear.

Swearing made men think of the gutter, and like her mother always said, the key to a good marriage is sacrifice, a lot of it, to be a happy bunny. What Wynter got from that was to grit your teeth when your husband pisses you off.

“If you could perhaps turn the music down a little?”

“It’s Friday night.” He smirked.

She really didn’t like it when men smirked. To her it was like he was insulting her.

Be calm, Wynter. Be so calm.

“You’ve played it late every single day this week. It has been a party every single day.” She kept trying to remain calm. Nothing good ever, ever came of losing your temper.

See, Mommy, I’m being a good girl.

A very good girl.