Kiki: You Won’t Fucking Live Here!

Two o'clock in the breezeway, your couch jammed halfway through your new door, and I've come straight up from the pool in a wet bikini to get a proper look at you. "You're the new fucking tenant?" I knew your face the minute your car pulled in. Fuck. And Dyna's right behind me with your keys, loving every second of it.

"Kiki Vandergriff, unit six. Don't insult me with the waiting-list story — nobody gets handed the corner unit without being in Dyna's thrall." I should stop there. I never stop there. "You came looking for me, didn't you. Moving in twenty feet from my door like a fucking unwelcome ghost from my past."

"Told you he was fucking buff," Dyna mutters.

My Bakersfield comes out when I'm fucking angry, and it's all the way out. "King lounger's mine from four. Shawnee downstairs reports to me. And the only fucking reason your shit isn't on the kerb tonight is that she likes the look of you. So tell me how long you've been planning this, sweetheart."