My eyes ping-ponged between him and Alex, who couldn’t look more bored by the conversation.
“No.” There was only one reason Alex Volkov would leave his cushy D.C. penthouse and move back to Hazelburg, and I’d bet my new camera it had nothing to do with nostalgia for his college days. “No, no, no, no, no.”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”
I glared at my brother. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m twenty-two years old.”
“Who said anything about babysitting?” Josh shrugged. “He’s looking after the house for me. I’m moving back in when I return next year, so it makes sense.”
“Bullshit. You want him to keep an eye on me.”
“That’s a bonus.” Josh’s face softened. “It doesn’t hurt to have someone you can rely on when I’m not here, especially given this whole thing with Liam.”
I winced at the mention of my ex. Liam had been blowing up my phone since I caught him cheating on me a month and a half ago. He’d even shown up at the gallery where I worked a few times, begging for another chance. I wasn’t devastated by our breakup. We’d dated for a few months, and I hadn’t been in love with him or anything, but the situation had brought all my insecurities to the surface. Josh worried about Liam getting out of hand, but let’s be honest, Liam was a Brooks-Brother-wearing, polo-playing trust fund baby. I doubted he’d do anything that would mess up his perfectly gelled hair.
I was more embarrassed I’d dated him than concerned about my physical safety.
“I can handle myself.” I pulled Josh’s arm off my shoulder. “Call the moving company and cancel,” I told Alex, who’d been ignoring us and scrolling through his phone this whole time. “You do not need to move here. Don’t you have…stuff to do in D.C.?”
“D.C. is a twenty-minute drive,” he said without looking up.
“For the record, I am totally in favor of you moving in next door,” Jules piped up. Traitor. “Do you mow the lawn shirtless? If not, I highly recommend it.”
Alex and Josh frowned at the same time.
“You.” Josh pointed at her. “Do not pull any of your shenanigans while I’m gone.”
“It’s cute how you think you have a say in my life.”
“I don’t give a shit what you do with your life. It’s when you drag Ava into your harebrained schemes I’m concerned.”
“Newsflash: you don’t have a say in Ava’s life either. She’s her own person.”
“She’s my sister—”
“She’s my best friend—”
“Remember when you almost got her arrested—”
“You have to let that go. That was three years ago—”
“People!” I pressed my fingers to my temple. Dealing with Josh and Jules was like dealing with children. “Stop arguing. Josh, stop trying to control my life. Jules, stop provoking him.”
Josh crossed his arms over his chest. “As your big brother, it’s my job to protect you and to appoint someone to fill in for me when I’m not here.”
I grew up with him; I recognized that look on his face. He wasn’t budging.
“I assume Alex is the fill-in?” I asked in a resigned tone.
“I’m not a ‘fill-in’ anything,” Alex said icily. “Don’t do anything stupid, and we’ll be fine.”
I groaned and covered my face with my hands.
This was going to be a long year.
4
Ava
Two days later, Josh was in Central America and Alex was all moved in. I’d watched the movers carry a giant flat-screen TV and boxes of varying sizes into the house next door, and Alex’s Aston Martin was now a daily sight.
Since stewing over my situation wouldn’t do me much good, I decided to make lemonade out of my lemons.
The gallery closed on Tuesdays during the summer and I didn’t have any shoots scheduled, so I spent the afternoon baking my signature red velvet cookies.
I’d just finished packaging them in a cute little basket when I heard the unmistakable roar of Alex’s car pulling in the driveway, followed by a door slam.
Shit. Okay, I was ready. I was.
I wiped my sweaty palms against the sides of my thighs. I shouldn’t be nervous about bringing the man cookies, for Pete’s sake. Alex had sat at our Thanksgiving table every year for the past eight years, and for all his money and good looks, he was human. An intimidating one, but a human nonetheless.
Plus, he was supposed to look after me, and he couldn’t do that if he bit my head off, could he?
With that reassurance in mind, I grabbed the basket, my keys, and my phone and made my way to his house. Thank God Jules was at her law internship. If I had to hear her talk about how hot Alex was one more time, I’d scream.
Part of me thought she did it to annoy me, but another part worried she was actually interested in him. My best friend hooking up with my brother’s best friend would open up a can of worms I had no interest in dealing with.
I rang the doorbell, trying to still my rampaging heart while I waited for Alex to answer. I wanted to chuck the basket on the front step and run home, but that was the coward’s way out, and I was no coward. Most of the time, anyway.
A minute passed.
I rang the doorbell again.
Finally, I heard the faint sound of footsteps, which grew louder until the door swung open and I found myself face-to-face with Alex. He’d taken off his jacket, but otherwise, he still wore his work outfit—white Thomas Pink shirt, Armani pants and shoes, blue Brioni tie.
His eyes roved over my hair （tossed up into a bun）， my face （hot as sun-scorched sand for no discernible reason）， and my clothes （my favorite tank and shorts set） before settling on the basket. His expression remained unreadable the entire time.
“They’re for you.” I shoved the basket toward him. “They’re cookies,” I added unnecessarily, because duh, he had eyes and could see for himself that they were cookies. “It’s a welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift.”
“A welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift,” he repeated.
“Yep. Since you’re…new. To the neighborhood.” I sounded like an idiot. “I know you don’t want to be here any more than I want you here—” Crap, that came out wrong. “But since we are neighbors, we should call a truce.”
Alex arched an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware a truce was necessary. We’re not in a war.”
“No, but—” I blew out a frustrated breath. He had to make this difficult. “I’m trying to be nice, okay? We’re stuck with each other for the next year, so I want to make our lives easier. Just take the damn cookies. You can eat them, throw them out, feed them to your pet snake Nagini, whatever.”
His mouth twitched. “Did you just compare me to Voldemort?”
“What? No!” Maybe. “I used the snake as an example. You don’t seem like the type who’d have a furry pet.”
“You’re right on that account. But I don’t have a snake, either.” He took the basket off my hands. “Thank you.”
I blinked. Blinked again. Did Alex Volkov thank me? I’d expected him to take the cookies and shut the door in my face. He’d never thanked me for anything in my life.