Princess Next Door
“Yeah, well, it’s been a party all week. These places are designed for partying, right? I mean, we’re set back from the street. The trees are large enough that the music doesn’t carry, and no one complains.”
I’m trying to complain.
“I really need to get some sleep.”
“Come on, Wynter, have a little fun. Don’t be a stick in the mud.”
She glared at him. “A stick in the mud? Really?”
He stared at her, and she saw the hard set of his jaw, which again enhanced his muscular physique. She loved his ink, and had always wanted to get a tattoo, but her parents wouldn’t like it.
If anything risked her getting the third degree, she avoided it. The bonus to living on her own, though, was she didn’t have to listen to it every single day, just when they decided to visit, which was never right now.
They didn’t want to help, so she was all on her own.
“Look, princess, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”
“Princess?” she asked. “With how loud and how long you’ve been playing music, I should call the police and have you arrested, or at the very least fined.”
“You got a problem with my music?”
“Yeah, it’s too loud, and it’s awful. This is not music, it’s noise. Can’t you have any consideration for other people?” She took a deep breath and completely regretted her outburst.
He held his hands up. “Whatever the princess wants, right?”
“No, don’t be like that. I just want it to be a little quieter.” She didn’t want to start an argument with her neighbor.
She’d seen television shows devoted to how dangerous it could be. This wasn’t supposed to be a bad experience, but a very enjoyable one.
“Party’s over. Everyone out!”
She watched as Zane ran through his place, and she stood on her doorstep as one by one he kicked everyone out, calling the party to an end.
The music turned off, and she wrapped her arms around herself as guilt rushed through her.
His guests, or friends, or both, all glared at her, calling her names.
“Prissy bitch.”
“Stick in the mud.”
“Boring bitch.”
She’d heard a lot of things in her time, but thirty minutes later, she stood on her very quiet doorstep, and Zane came toward her.
She felt awful and for good reason. She’d totally lashed out.
“Look, princess, I don’t know if you understand this, but if you’ve got a problem with someone, you don’t have to go to the police. You can just come right over to my place and tell me. Was it so hard to just knock and ask to turn the music down?” Zane asked.
“I don’t mind the music, but you had it on all week, and I was tired.”
“You could have enjoyed the party.”
She shook her head, wishing the guilt would disappear. This wasn’t what she wanted, not by a long shot.
Turning on her heel, she stepped over her threshold and glanced back. “My name’s Wynter, not princess.”
“Yeah, I’ll remember that, princess. I’ll be sure to.”
She closed the door, and leaned against it, slumping a little. In the back of her mind, she heard her mom berate her, and she gritted her teeth.
“Shut up, this is my house, and if I want to slump, I’ll damn well slump.”
Moving away from her door, she went up to her bedroom, stripping down and changing into bed shorts and shirt, she brushed her hair, looking out over the garden. She saw Zane in his, and she couldn’t resist watching him as he picked up the trash. He hadn’t put on a shirt, and with each movement his muscles seemed to ripple. Biting her lip, she wondered what it would be like to run her hands down his back, to hold him as he drove deep inside her.
She gasped, pressing her thighs together as the erotic thought rushed through her mind, sending fire into her body.
****
“I can’t believe she got you to break up the party,” Jones said.
“Yeah, and I can’t believe how unlucky you’ve gotten to be put next to a bitch,” Riot said.
Zane stared at his friends, who’d stopped by to help him. It was Saturday morning, and he had most of the outside cleaned up.
His friends were his rock, and they’d helped him move in and to put a real stamp on the place. He hated feeling like he was in a moving place, so getting everything set up meant a great deal to him.
His home was his comfort zone, and he’d fallen in love with this place the moment he saw it. Cassie, the woman who owned it before him, had kept the walls a plain magnolia and the ceilings white, all very neutral colors.
“It’s fine. She had a point,” Zane said, sticking up for his princess next door. Wynter. He liked the name.
“What point was that?” Silas asked. “To ruin your party?”
“We’d been partying for a week straight. I’m not defending her, but I’m sure if she’d been playing some of that shitty pop music and having lame-ass girly parties, I’d complain.”