New neighbors Andi and Hayden don't get off to the best start - and neither do their dogs. When the hostility between their pets, Bart and Rosie, leads to noisy barking, Andi and Hayden must solve their pet's tension or risk eviction from their apar...
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Windellas, the cozy hamburger joint resting along the lake's edge, creeps up on me through drumming rain. The wooden building stares, proudly announcing itself with a display of bright neon signs. Puddles reflect the vibrant luminance as raindrops patter against every open surface: the royal blue awning covering the entrance, flicking signs glazed in droplets, a deck protruding off the building with stacked chairs and clipped umbrellas.
I turn on my blinker, fighting against the downpour as I enter the crowded lot. Hayden turns after me and finds a spot on the opposite edge.
Once parked, I crack my door only a few inches to puff my umbrella. After grabbing my bag and stepping outside, rain peppers the nylon cove over my head. The green fabric does its job of catching water, protecting my straightened hair and ironed sweater as I step across the lot. I double-beep my car, letting red headlights flash against the night.
Hayden pads to the entrance. He quickly surges into my eye-line through flurries of light and rain. The night swirls over him like a watercolor painting. He's umbrella-less, standing with his hands in his sweatshirt pockets as rain matts hair against his color-soaked forehead.
My stomach drops. "What the hell are you doing?" I step closer and enter the bright light of an orange mimosa sign. "I told you to bring an umbrella!" Sunk in the color, I raise my umbrella over Hayden.
He removes a hand from his pocket, laughing, and wipes water off his stubbled jaw. "It's fine. It's just water."
"You could get sick." I tilt my umbrella to cover more of him.
He smiles. "You worried about me or something?"
"No," I say way too quickly. I shift on my heels and run my thumb along the umbrella pole. "I'm just mindful that we'll be spending tomorrow together, so I'd prefer you stay in good health."
Hayden smiles against the orange light. He brushes the damp hair off his forehead and drops his gaze. I'm glass under his stare, transparent, open, and utterly exposed. Like yesterday, I feel as though he sees right through me.
Last night has rippled through my head since the moment I left Hayden's studio. I lied through my teeth, and I'm almost certain he could tell. I felt things I shouldn't and questioned things I shouldn't. As I looked at Hayden's lips, I thought about things I shouldn't. I looped the toilet bowl of bad ideas, and all because of a hot guy with a hot voice and hot eyes who can effortlessly coax information from me.
Those knowing eyes are what momentarily overpowered my brain and muddied my mind, making me question my own desires.
But he can only muddy. He can never change because a physical attraction doesn't mean a thing (even if I'm more comfortable lying about it). It's a surface-level, superficial desire that doesn't even scratch the surface of me. Everything else I want and don't want stays the same.
And maybe something I don't want is Hayden getting sick.
Is that so terrible?
I spin toward the front door and cut off Hayden's gaze. I feel seen, and it's terrifying. Hayden can trail me if he wants the umbrella. It's not my problem if he'd rather risk a fever.
