“I got this, kid,” I told him, continuing to move.
He got out of my way and I went to the front door. I slid my feet in some flip-flops that were there that I should have taken to my closet a month ago but didn’t. I just picked them up, vacuumed under them, and dropped them back whenever I cleaned.
When I finished doing what I had to do, I’d wear them to my room and put them away.
I put my hand to the door and turned to my boy, who’d followed me.
“Stay inside.”
He stared up at me, nodding.
I opened the door, pushed through the storm, took a deep breath, and stalked down my walk.
“Did you fuckin’ hear me? I said come out here!” I heard shouted. “I know it was you, you old, fat bitch! You got a problem with me, you say it to my face! What you don’t do is call the fuckin’ cops!”
I saw my dickhead neighbor at Tilly’s door, banging and yelling.
“Yo!” I bellowed.
He stopped banging and swung my way.
I kept walking until I was in Tilly’s yard but still far away from him.
He looked me up and down, dressed and ready for work, only in flip-flops and not the heels I planned to wear. I also hadn’t yet put on my jewelry.
Some of the pissed went out of his face and something else came in it.
“This isn’t about you, babe,” he told me, suddenly friendly and calm.
Crap.
I put my hands to my hips. “I think it is, since you’re shoutin’ at Tilly when she didn’t call about your party. I did.”
His head jerked. The look of me, a full-on good-time girl, he was shocked it was me who made that call.
“Listen,” I went on. “I have a kid. He needs his sleep, even on a weekend. It sucks I had to call it in, but I hope you get me when I say I need to look after my kid. No way I’m goin’ over to your place in the middle of the night to ask you to have a mind to your neighbors. I had no choice.”
He studied me for a few beats before he stepped down off Tilly’s stoop and moved toward me.
I wanted to retreat step for step, but I stood my ground.
He could read me. We were of the same people. He knew I could look after myself.
And he knew, no way in hell I’d ever show a guy like him weakness.
No. Not ever.
With a guy like him or not, I’d never show a weakness.
I knew that too. I knew I had to show him every way I could that I was not weak. If I didn’t, a man like him could destroy me.
And he would.
He stopped four feet in front of me.
“You’re welcome to come over anytime, middle of the night or whenever,” he offered.
Fuck.
“Thanks, but like I mentioned, I got a kid,” I told him.
He looked beyond me, then back at me.
“Yeah. And he’s cute.”
I turned my head and saw Ethan standing just down the walk from our stoop.
Shit, shit, fucking shit!
I looked back at the dickhead.
“Yeah. I know. Anyway, Tilly’s cool. She’s a nice lady. You shouldn’t give her shit. She’s got two kids and a slew of grandkids who don’t ever visit her, and that sucks. She lives quiet. She doesn’t get into anyone’s business. She makes awesome cookies at Christmas. You don’t get in her face, brother, she’ll make you some cookies, and trust me, it’ll be worth bein’ cool to her.”
He grinned at me, his eyes shifting to my tits before they shot back to mine.
“I’ll take that advice,” he replied.
“Awesome. And sorry again I had to call it in, but just some advice, in case you haven’t been in the ’burg for very long: cops keep a close eye on shit and neighbors look out for neighbors. You wanna party, you might wanna take it somewhere else.”
That was taking it too far, and I knew it when hard entered his gaze and he declared, “Should be able to have a good time at my own fuckin’ house.”
I nodded. “I agree. It’s just that if that gets loud, your good time fucks with other people.” I tipped my head to the side, lifting my hand to give him the finger and thumb one-inch. “And worse, you came this close to ruinin’ AC/DC for me.”
He burst out laughing, doing it with his eyes twinkling appreciatively at me.
Shit, shit, fucking shit.
I took that too far too.
“Shame to ruin AC/DC,” he said through chuckles.
“Yeah. Now, I got shit to do. We good?” I asked.
His eyes fell to my tits again, and he didn’t lift them when he murmured, “Oh, we’re good.”
“Awesome,” I muttered, fighting back a nasty shiver. “Later.”
“Later, darlin’,” he drawled.
Fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit.
I lifted my chin to him, turned, and moved back toward my house, feeling his eyes follow me. I gave a jerk of my head to Ethan and he dashed up the steps of the stoop.
When I got closer, I saw him open the storm, and I also saw he had a baseball bat resting by the wall just inside the door.
My little man looking out for me (and Tilly).
I barely got the door closed when Ethan asked, “You okay, Mom?”
“Yeah, it’s all good. He’s gonna leave Tilly alone. It’s fine,” I assured him, hearing my phone begin to ring. It was in the bathroom and I made my way there, but I did it calling behind me, “We’ll talk about you comin’ out when I told you to stay inside after I see who that is.”