After rushing through putting on deodorant and brushing my teeth, I threw my wet hair up in a messy bun, and didn’t even bother with makeup before heading out. There was no time for that. I had shit I needed to get done.

First things first . . . I needed to stop at a Starbucks, like, ten minutes ago.

Connor

THE NOTE WAS still taped to my front door when I got home later that night, but that wasn’t saying much. Maci had keys to my place too. I was surprised that my door didn’t have holes in it, though.

Cracking open my door cautiously, I inspected the small gap, looking for any kind of line or thread, and when I didn’t find any, I flung the door open and stepped back.

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 f**king 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 f**king 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.