“No way…,” slips out of me while I automatically pull my pants up. I bow my head and look at the girl sprawled in my bathtub. Red hair—long. Her eyes are closed, earbuds in her ears. As if she felt my gaze, she deliberately stretches one leg out of the water and lazily moves her fingers.
“Uh-uh…” I suck in air like an idiot.
“Well, what a beauty, damn it,” I manage to breathe out hoarsely.
The girl suddenly turns around, freezes for a second—then lets out a scream like a siren, spilling water everywhere as she bolts upright.
“Who are you?!”
“Actually, I wanted to ask the same thing,” I answer in a hoarse voice.
“I live here! This is my apartment! I have documents!”
Looks like the romance of the evening is over before it even began.
“Documents… for my apartment?” I raise my eyebrows.
“Turn around! Pervert!” the redhead yells, grabbing the towel.
I smirk, feeling the long-forgotten thrill awaken inside me.
“Get out of my apartment!” She swings a bottle of shampoo like a weapon.
Okay. Wait.
“Yulka?”
We once split up with a scandal, and now we somehow have to share the same roof. Just neighbors? Or… are we together again?