Page 2 of By Invitation Only

I turned and saw a guy with a buzzed head of brunette hair, dressed in jeans and a button-down blue shirt, looking our way. “Yeah?”

“He’s been staring at you for the last twenty minutes.”

“He’s staring at you,” I argued.

“Um, no.”

I looked at the guy again, and he raised his tumbler. I turned back to Lorelei. “Okay, so maybe heislooking at me, but only because it’s a Friday night and he wants to get laid.”

“And?” She chuckled.

“I’m not into that kinda thing. I want to be fed, too.”

We both started laughing, and I turned to look at the guy again to see if he was still looking at me. He was, but he scowled then looked away.

“Aw, he thinks we’re laughing at him.”

I shrugged. “Good, he’ll stop staring.”

“We’re fucking bitches.”

I nodded. “We are. But I came to have a drink with my friend after work. I didn’t come here to have a one-night stand.”

“Maybe you need one.”

I turned my head slightly and narrowed my eyes. “What?”

“You’re so wound up because of work. I get it, it’s stressful, but that’s more of a reason to get laid.”

“Well, not withthatguy.” I waved my hand in the direction of the poor dude.

A smile spread across her ruby lips. “Well, let’s find you one.”

My Uber driver dropped me off at the front door of my building, and after taking the elevator up to my floor, I stumbled out three sheets to the wind. Lorelei and I had drunk one too many cosmos—five if I remember correctly. And because we were in our own world, gossiping and people watching, we didn’t find me a guy to go home with. That wasn’t really my thing, though. Plus a lot of the men who frequented Rick’s were lawyers, and I didn’t want to get involved with someone I had cases against. That could get messy, and it was unethical. If attorneys did get involved with each other, they needed to inform their clients, and then one of the attorneys would need to withdraw from the case so it wasn’t a conflict. Who wanted to do that for a one-night stand? Not me.

As I passed my neighbor’s place, I placed my hand on the door wishing he’d open it, pull me in and fuck me.IfI were to have a one-night stand, I wanted it to be with my sexy neighbor. Apparently, a lot of women had lived out that fantasy. I heard him all the time enjoying the company of those women, and each of them sounded different. I giggled to myself as I stood outside his door, remembering some of the things I’d heard.

“Did you get that lamp at Target?” one woman had asked between moans. “I’m gonna fuck you hard!” another woman had shouted. At first, I’d thought it was Sam shouting because it sounded like Batman’s deep growl. And another that had me laughing so hard was, “You like that, you saucy biscuit?” Where Sam found these women was beyond me. And the ones who moaned over and overand overannoyed the fuck out of me. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was that good in bed or they thought their screams were sexy.

And every time I wished it were me.

Since I was buzzed, I wanted more than just a quickie with my vibrator tonight, but my neighbor didn’t open his door, so I carried my drunk self to my condo. Thinking about it, I should have had that guy with the shaved head at Rick’s buy me my drinks and take me home. At least I wouldn’t be pining over my neighbor, who didn’t even know I existed.

That wasn’t true.

Sam knew I existed, but only that I was the girl next door. We’d never said more than two words to each other in the three years that we’d been neighbors. Maybe he had a rule about not eating where he shits or, in this case, fucking his neighbors. Maybe he thought I had a man. Or maybe he thought I was ugly. I never saw the women he brought home (only heard them), so maybe he only screwed supermodels who talked like superheroes or had a thing for comfort food.

After stripping my clothes and leaving a trail back to the door, I stood in front of the floor-length mirror in my bedroom. No, I definitely wasn’t a supermodel. For one, I wasn’t tall and all legs. I was five-five, and I only had normal-sized breasts. Not the ones that spilled over the cups of bras or the ones that needed a push-up bra to even look like boobs. I’d heard the saying that a man really only needed a handful. I had that covered, but no more than that. I wasn’t fat, but I wasn’t runway material either. I wasnormal. I weighed what was right for my frame.

My desire to be with Sam started to fizzle out as I continued to stare at myself, thinking of all the reasons why he never gave me a second look. And then it happened…

“Yes!” the woman screamed. “Yes! Right there!”

I knew what she was referring to behind my bedroom wall. I’d never seen it, but if the banging was any indication, I knew he was fucking her hard because his headboard was hitting the wall next to mine.

Bam.

Bam.