Nothing.

What the hell? Doors are Maci’s signature move . . . well, other than freezing my ass in the shower. I took silent and careful steps in as I looked around, inspecting every part of my apartment as I made my way to my bedroom. Going so far as to lift up the sofa cushions, and looking under the bed. But there was nothing.

Had the clown and spider scared her that bad? It wasn’t like she didn’t deserve it, and, hell, I’d been saving those for almost a year now since I’d played my last prank on her. If I hadn’t made sure her car was gone before I came back, I would have wondered if I’d actually given her a heart attack.

I’d just stripped out of my clothes and was walking into my bathroom when I heard a door shut. It could have been any of our neighbors, but knowing that it could be Maci, I jumped in the shower, turned on the water, and had the shampoo bottle in my hand within seconds. There was no way she was ruining two showers in a row.

The water didn’t start right away like I’d been expecting, and it made a weird noise before it sprayed out on me; but by then, I’d already turned around to inspect it. A string of expletives left me, and it took me a few seconds before I reached for the handle to turn off the water . . . but a few seconds was still too late. I had green, sticky water all over me. Grabbing for the showerhead, I twisted it off and brought it down to inspect it. There were green chunks in the base and after a few sniffs I yelled and slammed my fist against the wall.

“Kool-­aid, Maci? Fucking Kool-­Aid? This stuff stains—­oh shit!”

I turned the water back on and lifted the lever so the bath faucet ran instead. When I had as much of the leftover Kool-­Aid powder out of the showerhead as possible, I screwed it back on and turned the shower on. Reaching for my body wash, I flipped open the top and tipped it over to pour some into my hand.

“What . . . the hell . . . is this? Maci Price!” I yelled and threw the bottle—­of what was supposed to be my body wash—­out of the shower and turned to wash off the massive amount of liquid gold glitter that was now in my hand.

My body was still stained with green streaks, the water still had a light green tint to it, and while most of the glitter had gone down the drain, there was now a filmy layer on my hand that wasn’t going away.

I was going to ruin her.

Grabbing the bar of soap, I immediately began running it over my arms, chest, and stomach . . . but nothing was happening. There were no suds, it wasn’t lathering at all, it was working about as well as a plastic bar of soap. I stepped out of the shower, water dripping off me and threw the useless bar into the trash before searching through the cupboard, but, of course, the extra bars were missing.

Gritting my teeth, I grabbed a washcloth and stepped back into the shower and attempted to get everything off using that and the water. When I gave up minutes later, I grabbed my shampoo bottle again, but hesitated. Unscrewing the cap, I took a hesitant sniff and had to bite down on the inside of my cheek when a very distinct smell hit me. I turned the bottle over and watched as my shampoo laced with vinegar poured steadily out.

“Maci!” I yelled and shut off the water.

Not bothering with a towel, I stalked into my bedroom, slipped on a pair of drawstring sweats, and made my way to her place. I didn’t even knock, I just let myself in.

“You know . . .” Her calm voice reached me, and I stopped walking when I saw her on the couch. Leg up on the cushion as she sat there steadily painting her toenails. “Clear nail polish on bars of soap works wonders. Well, for my purposes, anyway.”

“Maci, look at me,” I bit out. When she didn’t look up, I snapped. Stalking over to her, I grabbed the bottle of clear polish and threw it across the room.

“Connor!”

“I said fucking look at me!”

Her eyes widened and she leaned back into the couch as I crowded over her.

“This isn’t funny. I have a job . . . a real job, something you would know nothing about, but I can’t go to work with a green fucking face, Maci!”

“Okay, it was—­”

“I don’t care what it was,” I said, cutting her off. “You better hope like hell that this comes off and that you have replacements for everything that was in my shower. And when I say “have” . . . I mean now.”

She licked her full lips and her eyes darted away before coming back to me. “Yeah, all right, I’ll go get them,” she said, her voice breathy as her eyes held mine.

When she didn’t make an attempt to get up, I leaned even closer and curled my lip. “Now.”

“I need you to move first.”

Shoving off the back of the sofa, I crossed my arms over my bare, stained chest and kept my glare on her as she hurried to the back of her apartment. She came back with a bag of all the extras that had been in my cupboards and I snatched it quickly away from her.

“You’re such a damn child, Maci. Grow the hell up.”

She visibly started and floundered for something to say as I walked to the door. “I’m the child? Are you kidding me? Like you had no part in this?”

“I scared you, that’s completely different than what you just did. If I get suspension for showing up tomorrow like this, you can be sure your brothers will be informed about your boyfriend.”

“You know what? Screw you, Connor! At least this morning you showed a part of the Connor I knew growing up . . . and at least you’re showing some kind of emotion right now. Even if you are being an asshole! Whoever you’ve been the last however many months is not you. You’ve been a fucking zombie. No feelings, nothing. So at least there’s something tonight. Glad to know you’re still human.”

What she said was hitting me hard. The fact that she noticed that much. The fact that she was right and this was the first time I could remember feeling anything, even if it was annoyance and anger.

Clearing my throat, I brushed away the realization that Maci could make me feel anything at all, and looked right into her gray eyes. “I’m the one with green skin, and you’re pissed off? Real classy.” With another deep breath, I left her apartment and went back to my shower for take two.

Maci

MY LEGS GAVE out and I collapsed onto the couch as soon as I heard his door shut. Jesus, was it ridiculous that I was still completely turned on from what had just happened? What am I saying; of course it was ridiculous . . . it was ridiculous to get turned on in the first place.

The way he’d more or less charged into my apartment and leaned into me so much that I’d had to lean into the couch had been what set it off. His throwing the nail polish that I’d used on his bar of soap across the room hadn’t even stopped me from noticing the way he looked in those loose, plaid-­flannel pajama pants that were hanging so low that I’d had a view to die for of his muscled V. Even in his anger, and the way he’d bitten out each word, I’d been completely lost in everything that was Connor Green. His intensity had filled my entire apartment . . . and it had been so. Incredibly. Hot.

But I hated the way he’d belittled me. I didn’t know if it was part of this new Connor, or if he’d just been trying to hurt me because he was upset; but he’d never treated me like that before. That had been the one thing to snap me out of my hormone-­driven haze that had my mind on a one-­way path that led to us in my bed.

If it hadn’t been for the way his face had fallen right before he’d left—­if it hadn’t been for the smallest glimpse of the old Connor . . . I wouldn’t be playing back every second of those few minutes again and again. His blue eyes spearing mine, the way the muscles in his arms contracted when he was using them to keep himself up on the sofa, and his demanding air that’d had my entire body heating.

God I needed a cold shower. And judging from the length of his first one, and the fact that his water had just shut off again, I knew that was exactly what I would get if I tried to shower now. But I knew just how bad Kool-­Aid stained skin, and I was positive he’d still have faded green streaks all over his skin. So instead of cooling down and trying to forget about the way he’d just made me feel . . . I did something worse.

I grabbed a box of baking soda and walked next door.

He glowered at me when he opened the door, and though his breathing was rough from trying to control his anger, he spoke in a deceivingly calm tone. “I’m still green, Maci.”

Trying to force my eyes off the towel he was clutching to his hips, and the drops of water that were racing down his skin, I dropped my head to stare at the floor and held up the box of baking soda. “I came to help.”

He huffed softly, his voice now holding a hint of a teasing tone. “I think you’ve done enough.”

“It will come off, you just need—­” I cut off when his fingers grasped my chin and forced my head back to look at him.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” His blue eyes searched my face, an unreadable emotion crossing his own. “You have no idea how much I hate that I scared you enough that you can’t even look at me now.”

I wasn’t looking at him because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from touching him. “You didn’t scare me, Connor.”

A sad smirk tugged at his lips, and he took the box from me with his free hand. “I know what to do with this. Go to sleep. I’ll come by tomorrow morning to clean up the polish.”

“But you—­”

“Please, Maci,” he said, cutting me off. “Go back to your apartment.”

I stood there staring at the door long after he’d shut it in my face. That had gone completely different from the way I’d thought it would. I’d pictured Connor sitting on the edge of the tub, me between his legs as I helped get the stain off his face, shoulders, and chest. Which, of course, turned into my hands running other places, and Connor picking me up and depositing me on the bathroom counter. I’d pictured my head falling back as he repeatedly slammed into me, me crying out his name—­