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Next-Door Nemesis(67)

Author:Alexa Martin

“You two better not be planning on throwing me in the pool,” he says. “I know how to swim. You won’t be able to take me out that easy.”

“I don’t know why you don’t trust us.” Ruby winks at me over his shoulder. “If this surprise kills you, you’ll come back from the afterlife to thank us.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.” He’s starting to fidget beneath the blindfold. I silently motion for Ruby and Ashleigh to speed it up.

“Why don’t you see for yourself then?” Ashleigh asks, and knowing what’s about to happen, the butterflies in my stomach start a riot. “Take it off in three . . . two . . . one.”

Ruby and Ashleigh let go of his arms and take a step back. Even though I know they want to stay and watch, they turn and hurry away instead.

Have I mentioned before that I have the best friends?

The second prior to him pulling off the blindfold feels like an eternity. Every worst-case scenario runs through my head, but the second his hazel eyes meet mine, all my worries drift away.

It’s only been a month, but somehow, he’s even more handsome than he was before. His haircut is different—shorter, and I wonder what it will feel like to run my fingers through it. He’s a little bit tanner, probably from all the walks he’s taking without me, but mainly, it’s the way he’s looking at me, like I’m the most incredible sight in the entire world, that turns me upside down.

“You’re here,” he whispers, his eyes never leaving mine. “What are you doing here?”

“I was thinking I could really go for a carnival.” I gesture to the games and inflatables surrounding us. “But there was only one problem.”

“Oh yeah? What was that?”

We’re both moving closer to each other, like there’s some invisible force pushing us together, but we’re both too afraid to make a sudden movement. As if this moment could be taken away from us just as quickly.

“There’s only one person I wanted to go with.” My mouth goes dry and my hands won’t stop shaking. “He lives all the way in Ohio and is super busy with his default victory as HOA president, so I have to bring the carnival to him.”

“But what about your script?” he asks, and the love I thought I had for him multiplies. “You can’t just leave your career. You know you won’t—”

“I didn’t leave my career,” I cut him off. “But even if I did, you made one major miscalculation last time.”

He’s right in front of me, close enough to touch, and my body lights up in recognition. Every part of me calls to this man. From the way he touches me to the way he believes in me to the way he drives me absolutely insane, I’m a better person with him by my side.

“I did?” he asks. There’s a cocky tilt to his smile and I want to kiss it away. “I doubt that.”

“You did.” I can’t wait to touch him any longer. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his face down to mine. “You said my dreams are in Los Angeles, but you were wrong. My dreams are right here. With you.”

And when his mouth finds mine, I know I’m right.

When I moved back home, I had no idea what I was looking for, but somehow I managed to find my forever.

Epilogue

When the old gavel hits the table, I have to resist the urge to run to the front of the room, push Nate on the table, and rip the striped button-up shirt I bought him straight off his body.

What can I say? I’m a sucker for powerful men.

I had a video conference with the producers of HOA**holes and didn’t think I’d be able to make it to the meeting today, so he’s not expecting me. I linger at the back of the conference room, watching with a fascination that hasn’t lessened even a little bit as he throws his head back and laughs at something Mr. Griffin told him.

After I moved back, part of me feared it was another reckless decision I was making without thinking it through all the way. What if I only felt chemistry and excitement with Nate because part of me knew it wouldn’t last? Would it be the same without all the obstacles between us? I mean really, how long could he put up with my antics, and how long could sweater-vests hold my attention? As it turns out, well over a year, and I don’t see it fading anytime soon.

Karen D. taps him on the shoulder and as he turns to talk to her, his eyes catch mine, and I watch as they go soft.

Add the way he looks at me to the list of things that will never get old.

He holds up a finger and I nod my head. I, more than anyone, know not to ignore a Karen. Plus, now that Karen D. took over for Janice as HOA secretary and volunteered to use her gossiping superpowers for good, I take great pains to stay out of her way. She’s thriving as the official notetaker and never before have a homeowners’ association’s minutes been so detailed or organized.

It only takes a few minutes—a record for dealing with a Karen—before he’s weaving through the crowd and making his way to me. I bite back my smile as he’s stopped every few steps to answer a question he didn’t get to during the meeting. This is another one of those moments when I feel very grateful I conceded my presidential run for a short-lived move back to Los Angeles.

“Hey, Mr. President,” I greet him when he finally makes it to me. The butterflies I always feel whenever he’s near start to go crazy in my stomach. “You looked very official and very hot with that gavel.”

“Oh yeah?” His eyes crease at the corners and he bends down to touch his mouth to mine. “I’ll see what I can do about getting one for home.”

I’m certain I’m the only person in the entire world who might be developing an HOA kink, but I won’t be shamed for it.

I link my fingers through his and pull him out of the conference room before any other well-intentioned neighbor can steal him away from me. “Promise?”

“Would I ever lie about something so serious?” He holds open the clubhouse door for me and we step outside into the most perfect night. His eyes twinkle beneath the setting sun, mischief lingering behind the hazel eyes I could stare into forever.

“Speaking of something serious . . .” I let my sentence trail off. I’ve been wanting to have this conversation for the last month, but every time I start to bring it up, I chicken out and change the subject. Now I’m running out of time and it’s now or never.

“Please tell me this is about your lease,” he says and my mouth falls open, because it absolutely is.

“How’d you know? Did Ruby tell you?” Or it could’ve been Ashleigh; she has been stopping by more often lately to drop off leftovers from the food she’s been making to demo the cooking products from the latest MLM she joined. Or maybe it was my mom . . . or my dad.

Dammit!

See, this is what happens when you live someplace and have a real community around you: you can’t pinpoint which person is making sure you don’t self-sabotage . . . again.

“What? No.” He laughs and puts his arm around me, tucking me into his side as we walk down the sidewalk toward his house. “I was there when you signed for your apartment. I’ve been wanting to ask you about it for a while now, but I didn’t want to be pushy or pressure you into making a decision you weren’t ready to make.”

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