The Neighbor Favor(20)

One day soon, she’d get up the nerve to actually talk to him.

Lily had run into Fine as Hell Neighbor in the hallway/elevator/lobby nearly every day since she’d moved in with Violet last month. And even more lately, since the other elevator had been out of service for weeks and there was only one way up, other than the stairs. And each interaction consisted of him being friendly and attempting conversation, while she became overwhelmed by his hotness and struggled to speak.

But with Fine as Hell Neighbor, Lily actually had something to talk about. Books. She could overcome her battle with casual conversation. And . . . wait.

Wouldn’t that make him the perfect date for Violet’s wedding?

They could talk about books all night. And even better, she didn’t have to worry about trying to make anything work long-term because apparently, he was a “ladies’ man,” according to Henry. Lily had never seen Fine as Hell Neighbor with a woman herself, but Henry clearly knew him better than she did. If he was a serial dater, they could have a fun night at the wedding and then go about their lives. No yearlong email chains and no messy heartbreak.

And if it happened that before they parted ways, he told Lily she was the sexiest, most fascinating woman he’d ever met, and he passionately pushed her up against the wall, grabbed her face, covered her mouth with his and then completely ravished her, who would she be to complain?

“Meow.”

Lily startled and looked down at her sweet Tomcat, who was too hungry to wait for her to finish her daydream.

“Hey, bud,” she said, as Tomcat affectionately bumped his head against her shin. “Let’s get you fed.”

Lily was the quiet sister. Or according to her family: shy. Or according to old classmates: mousy. She personally preferred the term observant.

She wasn’t bold like Violet or strategic like Iris, but she’d have to be in order to ask out Fine as Hell Neighbor. And she’d start by learning his real name.





3


“Nick.”

Nick groaned as he felt someone shaking his shoulder, trying to force him awake. He rolled over, turning away, attempting to hold on to the last remnants of his dream. In his twenty-eight years spent on this earth, Nick had rarely experienced a good night’s sleep. His childhood had been filled with long, unnerving and restless nights, where he wrote Lord of the Rings fanfiction at three in the morning, wondering when his mother would return and if she’d managed to track down his father, who’d committed another disappearing act to (a) gamble, (b) drink, (c) steal or (d) all of the above. The insomnia had followed Nick ever since and combined with the constant jet lag from his World Traveler days, dreaming was rare.

But when he did manage to dream these days, he always dreamed of Lily G.

He was dreaming about her now. The same dream as always. He was running down 16th Street, trying to get to Union Square park. Lily was waiting for him and he was late. The clock ticked as he pushed his way down the crowded sidewalk. He reached the park, sweaty and out of breath, and he could see Lily waiting for him on a park bench with her back to him. Her profile was vague, but she had brown skin and dark hair. She glanced down at her watch and sighed. He was only halfway to her when she stood and began to walk away, giving up on him ever arriving. Nick called her name, but she couldn’t hear him over the sound of street performers and skateboarders. He shouted louder to no avail. He sprinted forward, desperate and anxious. He finally reached Lily G. and clasped her shoulder, turning her to face him. And . . . she looked just like his neighbor from down the hall. That was new. Nick stared wonderingly at her pretty heart-shaped face. Her big brown eyes sparkled with joy.

“You’re here,” she said.

Her face broke into a smile and her obvious pleasure at his presence made Nick’s heart swell. Then she leaned forward, brought his face down to hers and proceeded to lick his cheek.

Wait, what?

Nick’s eyes snapped open, and a golden Pomeranian was sitting on his chest, licking his chin. It leaned away and stared at Nick with its round, black eyes. Nick’s head throbbed as he stared back, too confused and groggy to even begin to understand why a tiny dog was in his room and on his bed . . . Nick looked around at the flashy gold and bright pink bedroom decor. The fluffy white comforter that covered the queen-size bed. This wasn’t his bed, or his room. He lifted the comforter and discovered that he was completely naked.

Nick sat up in alarm and the dog barked at his sudden movement.

He looked at the dog again more closely, this time recognizing her glittery pink collar. “Ginger? But if you’re here, then I must be . . .”

“Good, you’re finally awake.”

Nick looked up and his neighbor Yolanda Rivera stood in the doorway, wearing a pink silk robe and matching fuzzy slippers. Her dark hair was set in curlers. She leaned against the wall and smiled at Nick.

“You sleep like the dead. I tried to wake you more than once,” she said. “We had some fun last night, huh?”

Nick blinked at her, his brain trying to compute exactly what this situation was. Did he have sex with Yolanda last night? No. Fuck. No. Yolanda was his friend. And that was important to him because she was unlike the various acquaintances he’d gathered throughout his life via his carefully practiced smoke-and-mirrors, everything-is-fine-here act. Back in March, Yolanda had spotted him moving into his apartment with nothing but a suitcase and his travel backpack. Realizing he didn’t own any furniture, she’d given him one of her old armchairs and then insisted he stay for dinner. Yolanda was the same age as Nick’s mother and often treated him like a son.