The phantom guitar solo seemed to be echoing in Sienna's skull long after the music had stopped. She lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, the unfamiliar shadows of her new room feeling oppressive. The thump-thump-thump had been replaced by a low, indistinct murmur of a deep voice and the occasional burst of laughter from next door. It was somehow more intrusive than the music. Who did he have over at 1 a.m. on a Tuesday?
"Quiet semester," she muttered into her pillow, the words tasting like ash.
By 1:17 a.m., the laughter had subsided, but a new, rhythmic thumping started. It was relentless. Thump. Pause. Thump. Pause.
That was it.
Fueled by a potent cocktail of exhaustion and rage, Sienna threw off her covers. She marched out of her room, her bare feet slapping against the cool floor. She didn't bother with a robe. Her oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts with cartoon aliens on them would have to serve as her battle armor.
Tasha, who had claimed the couch for the night, peeked over the back of it. "Where's the fire?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
"There's no fire. There's just… thumping," Sienna seethed, not breaking her stride toward the front door.
Tasha's eyes widened. "Whoa, whoa, hold on. You're not actually going over there right now, are you? In your… festive sleepwear?"
"It's either this or I thump back on the wall until my fist goes through the drywall. I'm choosing the diplomatic approach."
"This is the least diplomatic I've ever seen you look," Tasha whispered, but she was grinning, fully awake now. "Do you want backup? I can be the good cop to your very, very angry cop."
"I don't need a cop. I need a silencer." Sienna yanked the door open and took the three strides across the hall to 3B. The thumping was louder here. She took a deep, steadying breath, then knocked…three sharp, impatient raps.
The thumping stopped instantly.
A few seconds later, the door swung open, and the world was once again flooded with Jace Rivera.
He was shirtless, a fact her sleep-deprived brain registered with unfortunate clarity. A towel was slung around his neck, and he was glistening with sweat, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He'd clearly just been working out. That was the thumping.
"Oh," he said, his face breaking into that easy, infuriating grin. "It's you. The welcome wagon returns."
Sienna forced her eyes to stay locked on his face, ignoring the very defined landscape of his torso. "Do you know what time it is?"
He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, his gaze doing that slow, deliberate sweep it had done earlier. This time, it lingered on the alien pattern on her shorts. A corner of his mouth quirked up. "I do. It's… a little after one. Couldn't sleep? Big day of unpacking anxiety pens get to you?"
She bristled. "The only thing 'getting to me' is the fact that my wall has been a conduit for a terrible classic rock tribute and what I can only assume was your attempt to punch a hole through your floor for the last hour."
"Ah. The post-practice cool down. Jump rope." He gestured vaguely behind him. "Gotta keep the heart rate up. You should try it sometime. Great for stress." His eyes twinkled, clearly enjoying the way her jaw was tightening.
"Jump rope. At one a.m.," she repeated, her voice flat. "In an apartment building with walls made of, and I quote a reliable source, 'papier-mâché and regret'."
He had the audacity to chuckle. "I'll take that under advisement. For the record, the guitar solo was AC/DC. Show some respect." He finally straightened up, his expression shifting to one of mock seriousness. "So, is this your official noise complaint, Ms…. I just realized I don't know your name."
"Sienna," she bit out. "And consider this your first and only warning."
"Sienna," he repeated, and her name in his mouth sounded annoyingly pleasant. "Jace." He nodded toward his apartment. "Well, Sienna, I'm very sorry for disturbing your beauty sleep. Though, from where I'm standing, it seems entirely unnecessary."
The sheer, unadulterated smoothness of the line left her momentarily speechless. It was cheesy. It was arrogant. It was, she hated to admit, kind of flawlessly delivered.
She just stared at him, her well-rehearsed, angry speech evaporating into the humid hallway air.
He gave her another once-over, his grin softening at the edges. "Guess we're neighbors, princess."
The spell broke. Princess. Of course.
Without another word, her face burning with a mixture of fury and something else she refused to name, Sienna turned on her heel. She marched back to her door, his low chuckle following her like a ghost.
She slammed the door shut, leaning back against it with a thud.
Tasha was sitting fully upright now, her eyes wide. "Well? What happened? Did you sign a peace treaty or declare all-out war?"
Sienna closed her eyes, the image of his smug, shirtless, grinning face seared onto the back of her eyelids. "Worse," she breathed, the fight draining out of her, replaced by a sinking feeling of inevitability.
"Worse? What's worse than war?"
Sienna opened her eyes and looked at her best friend, the truth dawning on her with horrifying clarity.
"He thinks it's a game."
Tasha's grin widened. "Oh, this is even better than I thought. What did he say? And more importantly, was he shirtless? The basketball team's Instagram hints at a consistent state of shirtlessness."
Sienna pushed off the door, stalking toward the kitchen. "I didn't notice."
"Liar. You're a terrible liar. Your ears get red. They're red right now."
Sienna ignored her, filling a glass at the sink. "He called me 'princess'. And he said my beauty sleep was 'unnecessary'."
Tasha let out a low whistle. "Smooth. Cheesy, but smooth. So, what's the plan?"
"The plan," Sienna said, placing the glass down with a definitive clink, "is to ignore him. Completely. He's a vortex of noise and arrogance, and if I engage, I'll get sucked in. I'm building a wall."
"A wall of silence," Tasha mused. "A bold strategy. Let's see if it pays off against a guy who probably thinks a woman ignoring him is a fun new challenge."
"Don't say that."
"I'm just preparing you for the psychological warfare. You not giving him attention will be the most interesting thing that's happened to him all semester."
"I am not here to be 'interesting'," Sienna groaned, collapsing onto the mattress. "I'm here to get a degree."
"And you will," Tasha said, patting her leg. "You'll just do it with a ridiculously hot, slightly obnoxious soundtrack."
From the other side of the wall, a new sound emerged: the clear, distinct creak of a bedframe. Creak… creak… pause… creak.
Tasha's eyes met Sienna's, wide with horrified delight. "Or," she whispered, "the sound of something else entirely. Is that…?"
"Don't," Sienna cut her off, throwing a pillow over her face. The muffled sound, combined with the lingering image of his grin, sent a fresh wave of frustration through her. He wasn't just a nuisance; he was an inescapable presence, already getting under her skin without even trying.
"I'm just saying!" Tasha continued, undeterred. "The man has stamina. Jump rope at 1 a.m., and now… more cardio?"
Sienna let out a muffled scream into the pillow. Her quiet semester wasn't just over; it had been taken hostage.